by Loye, Trish
She told him where the rest of the bombs were while he stood near the door. “They’re coming,” he said.
She peeked out and saw about a dozen men creeping toward their position. The men fired at them. She raised her rifle and shot two, while Rhys took out another two before the soldiers scrambled for safety.
“We’ve got the truck,” Jake said over the comms. “Haul ass.”
“There’s going to be a boom,” Rhys replied before he nodded at her. “Do your thing.”
Cat already had her remote in hand. She blew the armory building. The explosion shook the walls of their building and thudded through her chest. That was powerful explosive Q had given her.
She blew the little charge on the window lock in the girls’ room next. She left Rhys firing at the tangos and ran to it, slamming the shutters open. “Clear,” she called.
Rhys ran into the room and leapt through the window. She jumped after him, but not before she’d left a present for the tangos. She and Rhys raced to the truck where the rest of the team waited. While she ran, she counted down in her head.
Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
Thunder and a concussive force jolted her forward. A single man screamed in agony.
“What the hell kind of grenade was that?” Rhys shouted to her, keeping pace beside her.
“You know me,” she said. “I only use the best.”
A few men who hadn’t gone into the girls’ building followed them as they ran, so Cat blew the other structures. She heard more screams, but didn’t look back. The truck had already started moving when she jumped into the back. Jake and Scattalone crouched there, rifles up and ready while Roddy drove.
They’d done it. She grinned, not caring that Rhys was pissed at her. He was here. They’d saved the girls together. She faced him, and saw the start of a smile on his face. Her heart lightened. Then, something behind him caught her eye. Clouds of dust rose from the road in the distance.
“Shit,” she cursed.
Rhys looked behind him, while Jake nodded. “We’ve got more company.”
“Just get to the bridge,” she said. “I’ve rigged it too.”
Jake grinned, his teeth showing white against the grime and camouflage smearing his face. “I like this woman, Lucky. She’s a keeper.”
Rhys didn’t say anything, just glowered and turned to face the approaching trucks. Jake arched a brow at her, but she didn’t answer his unspoken question. How could she, when she didn’t know if what she’d done could be repaired?
They jolted over bumps as Roddy drove them fast to the bridge. Jake thumped the back window into the cab. “They’re gaining.”
“I’m pushing it as hard as I can. This clunker can’t give us more.”
“They’re going to catch up to us,” Rhys said. “We need to be ready.”
“We’ll be ready,” Cat said, changing out the magazine on her rifle, her hands steady no matter the bashing of the rough ride. “We can handle a truck full of these bastards.”
“Copy that,” Rhys said. He still didn’t look at her and she lifted her chin, focusing on the hostiles closing the distance. She couldn’t be distracted by Rhys, but she wasn’t going to let him shut her out when this was over. She’d only tried to do what was best for the mission–and for him.
The other truck was only five hundred meters away, but with all the jolting and swaying it was doing, there was no way they could pull off any kind of decent shot. Instead, they conserved their ammo and waited.
Five hundred meters.
Two hundred meters.
Without speaking, they all raised their rifles and fired at the truck behind them. Men crowded the back of the pickup, and it wasn’t hard to just fire into their midst. Even with her rifle bouncing from the ride, she could hit enough of them that the truck skewed off the road. It roared back seconds later. Gaining still.
Cat chanced a glance ahead. She could see the bridge. “Bridge ETA three minutes,” she called out as she turned back.
Something punched her chest twice, then her arm. The force slammed her back into the bed of the truck.
“Cat!” Rhys yelled. And then he was there, his hands pressing her to lay back, his fingers probing the wound in her left arm.
“Shit,” she said, batting at his hands, gasping for air, trying to get her wind back. “Stop it… I’m fine.”
The truck swerved and Rhys dropped a hand beside her head to steady himself and leaned in close. His gaze seared her. “You’ve been shot,” he said. “Now lie still.”
Her body armor had saved her life, but it still felt like someone had struck her with a sledgehammer to the sternum, twice. Besides gasping like a fish, her upper arm throbbed and burned where a bullet had ripped through it. She steeled herself not to flinch while he finished his examination.
“Sitrep?” Jake asked.
“Her chest armor stopped two. Upper arm is a deep graze,” Rhys replied, before Cat could say anything.
Bullets dinged off the side of the truck. “They’re trying to pull up alongside.” Jake said. “Time to fire back, boys and girls.”
She struggled to sit up and pulled her arm from Rhys’s hand. “We’ll wrap it later.”
He nodded. “We’re going to do a lot of things later.”
She wasn’t sure how to take that. Even though she hurt, her mind jumped to something hot that required little clothing, though she knew that’s not what he meant. Still, a girl could hope.
She lifted her rifle with a grunt and started firing back. Each recoil of the rifle sent a shock of pain through her. She ignored it and soon was swept back up in the fight for their lives. The closer the truck came, the easier it was to shoot the soldiers—which they found out when Rhys killed the driver. Their truck careened off course.
“Nice shot,” Cat said.
“Won’t be long before they’re on us again,” he said.
Sure enough, Cat saw them open the driver’s door and a body fell to the ground. The truck straightened its path and headed for them again, like a dog with a scent.
“Almost to the bridge,” Rhys said, now crouched by her side. “Can you run?”
She scowled. “It was my arm that was hit, not my legs.”
He laughed. “I forgot who I was talking to.”
Trees brushed either side of the truck as it neared the river. They skidded to a stop in front of the bridge, right beside the pickup they’d sent the girls in. Roddy parked the truck so it became cover for them as they crossed.
They grabbed their gear and hopped out. Cat grit her teeth when she landed. Jake and the other two men ran across the bridge. Rhys took up position behind the truck and started shooting at the fast-approaching soldiers.
He glanced back at her. “This is where you run,” he said, firing again. “I cover you. You cover me when I run. Remember basic training?”
“Not funny, Lucky. Just don’t be slow.”
She raced across the bridge. The pounding of her feet set off a teeth-clenching throb in her arm. The rest of the SEAL team had already found firing positions on the far side.
“Move it, Lucky,” Jake’s voice ordered over the comms.
Cat made it to the far side, her heart thumping hard. Jake motioned her over. “Get ready to blow the bridge.”
She nodded and reached to the webbing pocket where she’d put the detonator. Her fingers touched shredded material and her eyes widened. There was a hole in her webbing and a quarter-sized dent in her body armor near her shoulder.
She pulled out the transmitter and swore. It had been smashed. Jake looked at it. “That can’t be good.”
“It’s not,” she said.
Without the transmitter, there was no way to blow the bridge from this side of the river.
“We can hold them off until the Chinook picks up the girls,” Jake said.
But that didn’t leave any way for them to escape. She pressed her lips together. There was only one thing to do.
“I don’t like that look o
n your face,” Jake said.
“Get those girls to safety.” She took off back across the bridge, passing Rhys as he ran the other way.
CHAPTER 22
Cat raced past Rhys, going the wrong way.
What the fuck is she doing?
“Cat!” Rhys yelled. He turned and chased after her, back to the wrong side of the bridge. He held up his rifle and fired at the tangos, who were way too close for comfort now. Their truck stopped and tangos piled out even as Cat reached the end of the bridge. She immediately slid down the bank.
He knew then that something had to be wrong with the explosives—or else she’d totally lost her mind in the heat of battle. He ran after her, but stopped before sliding down the bank. He hunkered down and spread cover fire. “Talk to me, Valkyrie,” he said over his comm.
“Get across the bridge, Lucky.”
Rhys couldn’t look at Cat, since he was too busy picking off the crazed soldiers trying to surround them. “Not without you.”
“Get over the bridge, Rhys. Please.”
“What the hell, Cat? I came here for you. I’m not leaving without you.”
She swore.
“Whatever you’re doing, Valkyrie, do it now,” Jake said over the comms. “More trucks full of tangos. ETA one minute.”
The tangos had obviously gotten in touch with their buddies, who had come roaring to their aid.
Rhys slid down the bank and changed his mag when he had cover. Cat hung by her legs from under the bridge, fiddling with the blasting caps and detonator in the explosive. Blood drenched her left sleeve.
“The transmitter’s gone,” she said without looking up from her work.
“Are you putting in a new detonator?”
“No time.” She grabbed hold of the bars and swung her legs down. “You’re a crack shot right?”
“Shooting C-4 won’t detonate it.”
“That’s why we have to shoot the blasting cap.” She jumped down beside him and unslung her rifle. “Last chance to run.”
He looked into her face, smudged with dirt and camouflage paint that made her blue eyes brilliant, while determination set her jaw. There was no way he was leaving her.
His woman.
“Stop asking me to run. You’ve already pissed me off, chère. Don’t keep adding to the list you have to answer for.”
Her eyes widened, but she nodded and then pointed behind him into the trees. “If we find cover in there we should have a clean line of sight for the shot.”
Gunfire ripped into the bridge, showering them with splinters. They both leaned against the bank and fired back at the encroaching tangos. “We’re on the wrong side when the bridge goes boom,” Rhys said between shots.
“I need the explosive in those joints in order to make it fall. Our only visual is from this side. Besides, there’s another bridge twenty klicks away.”
“There’s another way to cross the river.” He hated to do this, but she had to realize what needed to be done. He glanced at the raging water behind him, one of the only things he knew the woman beside him feared. He’d do anything to save her from that. “You know I can take this shot myself. You can still make it across the bridge.”
She shook her head. “The tangos are too close. Besides, who’s gonna provide covering fire for you if I leave you behind?”
He didn’t say anything, but watched her for a few seconds. Her eyes narrowed as she sighted down her scope, pulling her trigger. She was solid. It was always better to have a partner in a mess like this. Time to get to work.
“College,” Rhys said over the comms. “Give us covering fire. We’re getting into position to blow this sucker.”
“You coming back?” Jake asked.
“Negative. Blowing it from this side.”
“Evac plan?”
“Run and then swim.”
“Copy. Don’t make us wait too long.”
“Wilco. Lucky out.”
The SEALs increased their rate of fire, letting their weapons run full auto, making a thunderous sound. The tangos ducked behind their truck.
“Now,” Rhys said.
They scrambled up the bank and sprinted the short distance to the trees, not stopping until they were about twenty yards in. He glanced back. He could only barely see where the shot would be. He steered their run alongside the river. The view opened enough.
He stopped and ducked behind a tree, pulling Cat with him. She wobbled and his hand came away wet with her blood. Shit. He’d forgotten she was bleeding. He should have made her run to safety.
He dropped down and steadied his breathing as he sighted the small bit of white plastique he could see. Looking through the scope, the brass blasting cap was just visible.
Bark sprayed above him. “Covering fire,” he said.
“On it.” Cat lifted her rifle, her face tense with strain. He knew her arm had to be killing her, but she didn’t say a word. She opened fire.
He sighted the blasting cap again. They were only about one hundred yards away at this point, an easy shot normally, but the target was less than half an inch wide.
He slowed his breathing and focused on the shot, shutting out all sounds.
He pulled the trigger.
The blast of light was instantaneous. He ducked his head against the booming shock of sound and force that followed. Fuck, that had been a bigger explosion than he’d expected.
“What the hell was that stuff?”
But Cat didn’t answer. She was on her knees, shaking her head, her helmet askew. He tackled her to the ground where she wouldn’t be an easy target.
“Cat, can you hear me?”
She frowned and nodded. “Warn me next time. I think some shrapnel hit my helmet.”
Cat’s helmet had a crack in it. His fingers traced it. Thank God E.D.G.E. used the best and lightest armor there was.
The gunfight started up again.
“Sitrep, Lucky.” It was Jake’s voice over the comms.
“Five by five, College.”
“You’ve got tangos running through the woods to your location.”
“Copy that.”
He stood up, making sure he was covered by a tree. He changed his mag and noticed Cat’s hands shake just a little as she did hers. Her face was paler than normal. She’d lost too much blood already, but he had to push her or they weren’t going to get out of this.
“Come on, Valkyrie. It’s time to run.” He held out his hand. It told him how hurt she was that she took it. “Don’t quit on me now.”
She bared her teeth and her eyes blazed. “Never.” She turned and ran.
He followed, jumping logs and racing through the squat trees, promising himself that at the first opportunity he was going to convince this woman she belonged with him.
Cat’s arm had numbed, and she knew her senses had too. She’d managed a rough bandage a while back, but the wound needed something more. Her head and arm pounded in time with her heart. She panted more than she should, but didn’t complain and kept focused on the situation. Rhys needed a partner at his back, not a liability, if they were going to get out of this.
They’d run probably only five kilometers, but it felt like a marathon. It was late afternoon, the heat pressed in on them and the sky getting steadily darker with thunderclouds. The darkness within the trees had grown, which gave them an advantage, but the number of Boko Haram soldiers chasing them seemed to grow along with it.
Their progress slowed. More trucks had come, disgorging more soldiers to comb through these scant trees for them. The tangos had been driving her and Rhys away from the river. They’d been able to stay within the cover of the trees and brush that grew on either side of the Yobe River, but it had been a close call at times.
A rolling thunder broke through the shouts and calls of the soldiers chasing them. It would rain soon. Rhys halted and held up a fist. She stopped behind him, gaze scanning for movement as she listened intently.
Rhys knelt by a fallen, hollowed-out log. It lo
oked like termites had eaten through it. He pulled at the bark near the bottom and dug under the log.
“What’re you doing?” she whispered.
“They’re herding us. We need a hiding place so they’ll go by.”
She didn’t offer to help him dig, but instead kept watch. They didn’t have much time, but she didn’t urge him on. He knew as well as she did that the soldiers were almost on them.
After long tense minutes he finally said, “Done. Get in.”
Rhys had dug a six-inch-deep, narrow trench beside and under the log. It would allow them to use the top part of the log as cover while they nestled in the dirt under it.
She shook off her webbing, stored it near where her head would be, and then dropped and rolled into the trench. Rhys had scattered the dirt he’d dug while she settled. He dropped in beside her and used leaves and branches to cover them.
It was dark, and a tight fit. They didn’t move and barely breathed. She prayed for the rain, which would make it more difficult to find them and would cover any noises they made. Her throat was dry, though the rest of her body was damp with sweat. She swallowed, wishing she’d thought to have a drink before holing up.
Voices speaking in Hausa made her still. She forgot her discomfort, her throbbing arm, her thirst and fatigue. She breathed silently, her rifle gripped loosely in her hands. She could only see Rhys’s broad back in front of her.
The voices yelled, blaming each other for losing the fucking Americans. One man stood right near the log. She craned her head and could see his boots out the far end. Rustling noises sounded and then the scratch of a lighter. Moments later, the thick scent of marijuana entered their hiding place.
They could not be caught by these men. They wouldn’t just be killed, but the Boko Haram had a reputation for torture unlike any other. She would be raped repeatedly during it all, before she and Rhys were both eventually beheaded. She would not go out like that.
She wouldn’t let Rhys die like that, either. He’d gotten into this mess because of her. She’d make sure he got out of it.
The soldier continued to smoke. Another one joined him. She gripped the handle of her knife. Should they kill them now, before more joined them? She reached up and squeezed Rhys’s shoulder. He shook his head slightly. He had a better view and obviously knew what she was asking.