by D. K. Hood
“I’ve lost track but I’ll only need four hours.” He inserted an earpiece in one ear. “I’ll check in first.” He handed her his Glock. “If anyone forces their way through that door when I’m asleep, don’t hesitate. I’ll wake but you’ll have the edge. Understand?”
Annie took the weapon and nodded. “I know what to do.”
“Good.” He stood and walked into the bathroom.
Annie could hear his voice speaking low, even his communications were top secret. When he returned, he made no comment about his conversation and just laid his sidearm on the pillow, climbed into bed, and in seconds was asleep. She stared at him. His breathing came slow and steady. For the first time since he’d rescued her, he looked at peace. She watched him for ages, it was hard to believe that handsome face hid a warrior inside. Checking her feelings, she turned her head away, stood, and went to the sink to clean the dishes. She’d heard how women fell head over heels for their rescuers and it wasn’t hard to understand why. She figured it was the attention. She’d had few boyfriends, mostly at college and the casual type of relationship. All of them had life goals and none of them included her. Dave was attentive and protected her with his life, so no wonder she’d become enchanted by him. Yeah, that was the perfect word, enchanted. He’d cast a spell over her, that’s for sure. They argued but the banter between them was never cruel. He spoke his mind without holding back and so did she. This was something she found unusual for a military man. They usually acted overly respectful around women. Not that he didn’t treat her with respect, but most Marines she’d met had called her ma’am of late and kept their distance. He barked orders at her as if he was above her in the chain of command. She thought on this for a while and looked at him again. He’d neatly folded his cammies and she noted his rank insignia pins were missing from the collar. Why? Perhaps if captured, he’d say he was a deserter or of no consequence to be traded or beheaded for a show on the internet. She frowned, the way he acted and his expertise would denote a high-ranking officer.
Annie kept the fire going by adding wood from a basket piled with logs and added water to the pot and stirred the contents. The sun was high in the sky, and she figured it must be around noon, Dave had slept for four hours and hadn’t moved. She stood and stretched, refilled the kettle, and placed it on the fire. She smiled at the ingenious way the grate had been designed. A hook to hang a pot that reminded her of a witch’s cauldron and below in the embers sat two smaller iron stands for a kettle and another small pot. She stood and went to the window keeping well behind the blinds. Children kicked a soccer ball in the street and a few people walked along the sidewalk. The town had sustained substantial damage. Many homes stood in ruins. The rows of houses had empty gaping holes like missing teeth. Bombings had destroyed a once thriving town.
She didn’t hear Dave get up and dress. He moved like a ghost, not making a sound. When he cleared his throat behind her, it startled her and she spun around to look at him. “Oh, you’re awake. Coffee?”
“Sure.” He stretched and pressed his hands flat on the ceiling. “It’s cramped in here but we’ll be moving as soon as it’s dark.” He took the cup she offered him and sat down at the table, turning the cup in his long fingers. “It’s going to be as boring as hell for the next few days but you’ll have to be patient. Rest up and get strong. We’re going to need you in peak condition if we’re planning on getting out of here alive.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll check in. Back in five.”
Annie added another log to the fire and sat and stared at the flames. She could see so many things in the fire. Fairies with wide fluttering wings seemed to drift across the glowing charcoal in orange and yellow flowing dresses. Tall trees reached for a smoky sky. She loved to paint, and when she returned home, would paint a fairy scene, set at sunset, and use similar colors as a remembrance of her escape from hell.
A knock came at the door and Dave charged out of the bathroom and waved her inside. He grabbed the underwear from the line and thrust it at her all the time speaking in fast Arabic. He dragged on his robe and covered his head. Annie dashed into the small room, shutting the door behind her, and wrapping the underwear in a towel. Through the door, she could hear men talking in hushed tones. Terrified someone would open the door and see a blonde American, she grabbed a towel to cover her head and face.
Pressed against the door, she listened for footsteps but heard nothing more. Where was Dave? Had someone taken him prisoner? Heart pounding, she went to the window and peered out but could only see the wall of the next building. A slight sound came from the other room and she turned and stared at the door. The knob turned slowly and panic gripped her. She glanced around but could find nothing to use as a weapon. Trembling, she did the only thing possible and averted her eyes by staring at the floor.
“Hey, it’s all good.” Dave had walked across the small space in one stride. “You’re shaking all over.” His arms went around her. “I won’t let them near you, Annie. You have to trust me to protect you. I don’t go down easy. It would take a bullet to the head or the heart to slow me down.”
Annie rested her head against his shoulder and held on to him. He felt so good in her arms she didn’t want to let go. “Are you really that good? Is that why my dad asked you to rescue me?”
“Let’s hope you never have to find out.” He brushed a kiss over her lips before stepping back and then gathered up the damp washing and carried it back to the fire. “They’ve given us goat’s milk, sugar, more bread, and basbousa.” He grinned at her over one shoulder. “I love cream and sugar in my coffee but goat’s milk will do just fine.”
Suddenly breathless, Annie pressed her fingers to her lips. His kiss had been so gentle and undemanding, but what did it mean? Confused, she hung the towel on the rail and followed him back into the other room. Against the wall, someone had stacked bags and a cardboard box sat on the table. She stared at him. “What’s basbousa?”
“It’s a traditional Middle Eastern semolina cake. It’s wonderful, all sweet and sticky. You’ll love it.” Dave turned to look at the pot on the stove. “Have you been stirring the pot?”
“Yeah.” Annie peered in the box and then made the coffee, adding milk and sugar. “It needs water every so often to stop it sticking to the bottom of the pan. “Cake and coffee will be great for lunch. I’m not sure I could eat that casserole or whatever they call it three times a day.” She sat down, feeling drained and sore all over. “I’ll eat, grab some more pain relief, and then sleep some if that’s okay?”
“Sure.” Dave pulled the cake from the box and cut it with a knife. “We’ll be moving as soon as it gets dark. Once we’re at the new safe house, I’ll be leaving you alone for maybe a couple of hours. I’ll leave a weapon with you and I’d suggest you remain covered until I return. As before, say nothing, keep your eyes on the floor.”
Fear dropped over her and she clutched her hands together so he couldn’t see them trembling. She swallowed hard. Asking questions seemed taboo but she needed to know. “Where are you going?”
“I can’t say but it’s part of the deal for keeping us safe.” Dave looked at her thoughtfully for a beat and then shrugged. “I’m not planning on putting myself in danger. It’s a mission like any other. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Unappeased, Annie nodded and sipped her coffee. “So where is this safe house?”
“I don’t know.” Dave pushed cake onto two plates and handed her a fork. “I figure the idea is to move us across town as inconspicuously as possible. We hide out during the day and move at night. I’ll pack up our gear, we’ll need to be ready to move out when they come for us. Eat up and sleep. You’re going to be awake all night.”
Annie needed to ask the question burning on her tongue. “And if you don’t come back?”
“You know the answer, Annie.” Dave bit into his cake, sighed in pleasure, and then narrowed his eyes at her. “I’ll leave the Glock.”
Chapter Fifteen
Texas<
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Blood pressure rising, Wolfe stared at the screen array on his desk. In order to gain the locals’ cooperation, his operative had sent himself on a suicide mission. His last communication had rocked him to the core. Without anyone to watch his back, Ninety-eight H had set up on the roof of a building, his sniper rifle aimed at the patrolling militia. He chewed on the inside of his mouth as the infrared images moved across the screen. How his operative had organized a group of friendlies to do a cleanup operation in the short time since he’d arrived amazed him, but hadn’t made the mission any less dangerous.
Communication with a sniper during a mission was usually restricted to the basic order to proceed or not. A spotter would feed him information about wind and weather and check any other distractions that could alter the trajectory of the bullet. Ninety-eight H was on his own, although his rifle had so many gizmos that he really didn’t need a spotter. A sniper needed to use all his powers of concentration, especially at night, to make a clean shot. They usually only took one shot, but with many targets in a combat situation, his sniper would need to be fully engaged to reload and shoot. Wolfe didn’t want to distract him, but as his only ally, he had no choice. He pressed his com. “Ninety-eight H, do you copy?”
“Copy.”
Wolfe bit back a sigh of relief. “I have you on satellite. Truck with gunner, east of your position, two streets back, moving at ten miles per hour. There’s a group of ten or twelve men moving around the building identified as the hostiles’ HQ. Foot patrols move out in twos but only move along the perimeter. What do you need from me?”
“Copy. Intel says two trucks patrol at night. Cleanup crews are standing by. Give me a countdown to contact with the patrol. Once we’re done here, I’ll be moving across town to neutralize the other truck. I figure once the trucks fail to return to base, they’ll send out foot patrols. Keep me updated on all movements and countdown to arrival as before. I’ll report each downed target.”
Wolfe’s heart rate increased as the truck slowly rounded the corner. “Copy. Engage truck in twenty seconds.” Eyes fixed on the screen, he went silent. Ninety-eight H would be counting down in his head. Heat flared on his sniper’s rifle, and the truck veered off the road. Two more flares and then Ninety-eight H came through his earpiece.
“Target down.”
In seconds, Ninety-eight H was moving, running across the rooftops. Jumping from building to building. He vanished from sight and his tracker popped up inside a sedan speeding out of a backstreet and weaving between roads across town. On the ground, people moved around the truck, dragging out the driver and passenger and tossing them in the back before it sped off toward the outskirts of town.
Wolfe scanned the screen, following the sedan through the backstreets. He spotted the second militant patrol truck ahead and Ninety-eight H would run straight into it. “Ninety-eight H, do you copy? Second truck dead ahead, change direction. Repeat change direction.”
“Copy. Direct to clock tower, town center.”
Unease slid over Wolfe. A foot patrol moved along a backstreet only yards from the clock tower. Ninety-eight H would be seen moving from his vehicle carrying such a distinctive weapon. He searched for an alternative route and engaged his com. “Ninety-eight H, do you copy?”
“Copy.”
Wolfe swallowed hard. One small mistake and militants would capture, torture, and behead his operative. He sucked in a breath. “Turn left at the next intersection. Suggest shelter in damaged building. Foot patrol moving in from one hundred yards, two men, automatic rifles. Wait until they pass then move through the alleyway and turn left. The clock tower is straight ahead and the way is clear.”
“Copy.”
Wolfe heaved a sigh of relief as Ninety-eight H ran from the sedan and slid into the building. “I’ll keep radio silence until you’re in position and then update you with the militia’s movements.”
“Copy.”
Wolfe pushed a hand through his hair to find it damp with sweat although it was cool in his office. He blew out a breath and rubbed his hands down his face. He could see where Ninety-eight H was, but where the hell was Annie?
Chapter Sixteen
Syria
After listening intently and scanning the immediate area, Dave ran across the road, avoiding the broken bricks and other debris spilling from the ruins of the buildings. With his mind running through possible scenarios, Dave’s head was in mission mode. Cool and calm, with every possible outcome considered, he eased inside the shell of the building, his night goggles slightly distorting his view. He left his rifle behind a pile of broken bricks and removed his goggles and placed them beside it, and then moved back to the front of the building. He wore his cammies, and the desert colors blended into the sandy-colored building, making him invisible in the dark and distorted shadows. He stood, arms loose and relaxed at his sides, ready to fight. Using a weapon would alert the neighborhood to his presence. He could take down two untrained men with one arm tied behind his back. The two heavily armed militiamen came into view, walking at a slow pace and occasionally checking the gutted buildings, as if performing a perfunctory task rather than clearing the area.
Dave moved to the other side of the building, to an empty space, and waited. As the men walked past, he tossed a small pebble into the street some ways ahead and another into the darkness surrounding him. As he’d suspected, the two men twisted and turned, unsure of which way to go. Untrained in maneuvers, they made the mistake of splitting up, one going ahead and the other walking straight past him before switching on a flashlight. Before the man swept the room with the beam, Dave attacked. In seconds, his hands wrapped around greasy unwashed hair in a headlock, and before the man uttered a sound, he lay dead at his feet. He stripped him of his weapons, dragged him into the shadows, and waited. In minutes the other man came strolling back toward him.
“Qasim.” The man slowed, waving his flashlight from side to side. “What’s taking so long? Are you catching a rat for dinner?” He walked past Dave and into the ruins.
No thoughts passed through Dave’s mind as he dispatched the second man. He didn’t know his name and didn’t care. It wasn’t as if he kept a tally. That would be too gross. He peered both ways down the street but had no idea if any more militia prowled the streets. He glanced at the two men. The people in town would be safer for his actions. After collecting the rifles, he slung them over one shoulder and went to collect his rifle and night goggles. Next, the second truck and whoever came after it. He touched his com. “Two targets down. Moving to the clock tower.”
“Copy that. You’re clear but I see people in the houses, close by. They look like women hiding huddled together.”
Dave snorted. “I’ve learned not to trust anyone out here. If anyone heads this way, tell me.”
He hustled across the courtyard and into the clock tower. He put down his rifle and looked around. Steps led into darkness. He’d need a position up top with a three-sixty-degree view. When something came hurtling out of a doorway, he spun around ready to fight. He glanced down to see the terrified eyes of a young boy. He took a few steps back. If the kid was rigged with a vest filled with explosives, he’d be a goner. “Open your coat.”
The boy complied, turning all around exposing bare flesh. Dave removed his night goggles so as not to frighten the kid. “Why are you here?”
“I’m to take a message to Farid to tell him when you need him to come.” His head nodded like a bobblehead. “I will be your lookout.”
Dave shook his head. “No, it’s not safe. What’s your name?”
“Saad.” The boy looked up at him and blinked. “I am brave and reliable like my father.”
Looking around for a safe place for the boy to hide, Dave indicated to a house across the way. “Is that your house?”
“Yes.” The boy looked behind him.
Dave patted him on the shoulder. “Take these weapons and remain inside. When it is over, I’ll come for you and you can take me to Farid. Right
now, it’s not safe for you here.” He slid a rifle over each of the boy’s shoulders. “Go now and protect your family.”
The boy moved slowly under the weight of the rifles. Dave tapped his com. “Any more surprises?”
“Nope, I saw him same time as you. He must have been close to the fire and it hid his heat signature.” Terabyte sounded concerned. “Three women in the house he entered. I can’t see anyone close by. The militia truck has been circling the block to the north of your position. It’s moving in your direction now. Once it hits the straightaway, it will be in sight of the militia HQ. Once you hit it, it will be like disturbing a bees’ nest.”
“Copy. That’s the plan. I’m heading upstairs now.” Dave picked up his rifle and ran up the stairs taking them two at a time. The tower was as he’d expected, the clock sat in the middle with a walkway around it. Thick brick walls with gaps in between made up a viewing platform for the entire town. Using his scope, he scanned the town to the north until he picked up the headlights of the militia truck. It was the same setup as before. One gunner and two men inside. The truck was heading in his direction through a heavily damaged area on a straight road. Using night goggles, he could make out the men inside the truck and the gunner as if they were a few meters away. He set up his rifle, checked the wind, and dropped into the zone. He’d need three shots, each bullet loaded individually and at top speed. He’d made more complicated shots before over a greater distance. Taking a deep breath, he squeezed the trigger, and before the bullet had reached its target he’d reloaded and fired again. By the time, the truck had veered off the road, mounted the curb, and stopped, he’d taken out the passenger.
The expected fallout was immediate. Heavily armed militia spilled from the HQ. All of them running toward the truck, shooting at random. The sound of loud voices and rapid fire echoed through the town but the streets were empty. The people had taken cover. Dave pressed his com. “How many?”