by Seton, Cora
Ty didn’t answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes. From all the way up there on the hill? That’s a good three-fifty to four hundred feet. Impressive.”
“Five hundred. But who’s counting.”
Idiot whistled. “Sniper, huh? Army?”
“Frogman.”
Idiot’s eyebrows rose. He took Ty’s weapon out of his hands. Patting him down, he found the knife strapped to Ty’s leg. “What is one lone SEAL doing here?”
“I can’t confirm or—”
“Deny, yeah, yeah. I know the drill. I’m a SEAL too. That makes us brothers.” Ty wanted to barf. The bastard pressing an AK-47 into Ty’s chest wasn’t family.
“Let’s make a deal, shall we? Come back to base with me, and you tell my CO what my Navy brothers are doing this far north. We’ll just leave douchebag over there for the bears to munch on. I never liked that asshole.”
“Do I have a choice?”
Idiot shrugged. “Hell, yeah. You could die right here, and the grizzlies will feast on two assholes tonight.” He let loose that high-pitched laughter gain. It grated across Ty’s spine.
Ty calculated the odds of neutralizing the enemy before he pulled the trigger. They weren’t good. The other option was to go with Idiot face and collect intel about the enemy at their base camp. Of course, Crow would torture him to death, which meant getting the intel to Admiral Collins was going to be tough. And what would happen to Preston if he left him behind? The kid was already knocking on death’s door. If he left him, the door would open wide and suck him in before sunrise.
“So? What’s it going to be?” Idiot asked. “It’s cold out here.”
The only plan that made any sense was to go along with shit-for-brains for a while, drain as much info out of him he could, and neutralize him before they made it back to his base. Crow could not know SEALs were in the area, or he and his men would go underground again. This was a one-shot deal, so he’d better make it good.
“Yeah, all right. Let me gather my things, and we can go.” He’d tell Preston the plan and pocket a couple of grenades from inside the helo. Willy would be proud. Ty was going to blow the enemy sky high. He made a move toward the helo.
Idiot stepped in his way and jabbed the Ak-47 in his gut. “Nu-uh. You have a pack. That’s enough. Start walking.”
Ty thought fast. “Sure, man, I’m as cold as you are. But there’s two hundred kilos of coke inside from a fishing boat we busted in the Pacific. You really want to leave it behind?”
Idiot’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you say so before? No, stupid, we’ll take it.”
Ty again made a move toward the helo.
“Not so fast. I’ll get it. You step over there by the tree.”
Shit. “You don’t know where it is. It’s a mess in there. I’ll grab the bags and be out before your dick freezes off.”
“Nice try.” He waved his stubby finger in Ty’s face. “Think I was born yesterday? You’ve got weapons inside, dontcha?”
“No way.” Ty gave the most sincere expression he owned. Granny called it his big green eyes candy-stealing-face. “I don’t want to leave any bags of coke behind, that’s all. Each one is worth a hundred g’s. We’ll split them fifty-fifty.”
Idiot cocked his head. “I’ve got a better idea. Over by the tree. I’ll tie you up so that you don’t take off on me and I’ll get the coke.”
A rush of anxiety burned his chest. He had to keep Idiot away from the helo. He’d do anything to protect Preston. The kid was defenseless. “No man, you’ll never find all the bags. I need to go in there myself.”
“Get moving SEAL, or I’ll put a bullet in your head and be done with you.” He shoved Ty toward the woods.
A plan right now would be good. Having the rest of the SEAL EXtreme team here would be better. Ty walked slowly, his hands in front of him. There was a small, sharp knife in his front vest pocket the Idiot had missed. Very carefully, he slid it out and tucked it up his sleeve.
Idiot pulled a rope out of Ty’s pack and used it to tie him to a tree. “There. Nice and snug. I’ll leave you here in case I really can’t find the bags. Be honest with me and I’ll leave you one.”
Ty narrowed his eyes. The asshole was going to kill him and take off with all the kilos. Or at least he would if the drugs actually existed. Didn’t he have a surprise coming?
“That’s not a fair deal. We split fifty-fifty, or not at all,” Ty complained. He needed time. He’d barely started cutting through his rope with his knife.
“Fair is letting you keep breathing. At the moment, I’m just not feeling it. Convince me and I might let you live.” He turned to go.
No, not yet. “Wait! It’s booby trapped.”
Idiot spun around slowly. “I’m listening.”
“I didn’t want anyone to steal the coke. One wrong step near the helo and you’ll end up in more pieces than the airbus.” Ty grinned. He sort of liked that image.
The AK-47 was once again pointed at his chest. “Tell me where to put my feet.”
He was almost through the rope, just a few more minutes and he’d be free. “Go to hell.”
Idiot looked through the scope. “You first.”
A few more strands on the rope. Almost there. It would be helpful if the bastard would turn his back so Ty could break free and jump him. “You really are an idiot. Just follow my tracks in the snow, asshole.”
Idiot lowered the weapon. “What did you say?”
Instead of focusing on the tracks like he was supposed to do, the man’s eyes flashed lava-hot. Like Harvey the Bull’s eyes did before he attacked. Ty had the unpleasant feeling he was about to get the horns, and his arms were still tied behind the tree.
Idiot rushed him. The butt of the AK-47 slammed into Ty’s temple with the force of a sledgehammer. Stars exploded before his eyes. His head fell forward, his chin knocking his chest. The final strands of rope held him upright against the tree, just barely.
“I hate being called an idiot.” That irritating laughter rang in Ty’s ears. “I’m going in. I’ll call if I need help finding the kilos.”
No, no, don’t… Ty shook his head, desperate to clear the cobwebs. He fought the fuzzy cotton tunneling into his vision, refusing to slip into unconsciousness. Preston needed him.
Since Idiot’s focus was on his feet and avoiding fake landmines, Ty had the perfect opportunity to cut himself free and attack from behind. Only…Where’s the knife? Crap! The knife had slipped out of his fingers when the AK-47 made contact with his head.
Ty wrestled and fought the last strands of rope.
Idiot shoved his buddy’s dead body off the snow bank and peeked inside the tunnel to the helo.
“Not another step.” Came from inside. Preston’s voice.
“What in the hell?” Idiot swung back around. A look of incredibility hung on his face. “You were protecting a man inside this whole time? I knew the drugs were bogus. Well, guess what boys? It’s time to wrap up my mission and head back.”
Ty remembered the radio conversation too well. Crow had sent two men on a recon and kill mission. Idiot had the recon—he knew who was inside the helo the drones shot down. The kill part was about to happen before Ty’s eyes.
“He’s just a kid and unarmed. Leave him alone,” Ty growled.
Idiot laughed. “Great. Makes things easier.” The nose of the AK-47 pointed into the tunnel.
Pressing his arms back as hard as he could, Ty forced the binding to give. His wrists burned. The rope slashed and tore at his skin. He didn’t stop.
“Don’t move.” Preston’s voice rang loud and clear. “That means you too, Whitehorse. I’m pulling my own weight.”
What did that mean? Don’t do anything stupid, kid. I’m coming.
“Put that down, son. Let’s talk.” Idiot was negotiating? What could frighten a man with an AK-47? The answer smacked him upside his sore head. The grenades.
“Go to hell,” Preston growled.
Finally
! Ty broke free and started to run toward the helo.
“You don’t have the balls for killing, little man. But I do.” Idiot pulled the trigger.
“No!” It was as if Ty had taken the bullet. His heart squeezed in his chest. Horrible bloody images snapped like paparazzi flashes in his head. The admiral says you’re the best. It was his job to protect Preston. His job to get them both home safely so the kid could be a hero. And yet, he let a young ET2 die on his watch. Too many good kids had died on duty. When was this shit going to end? He stumbled, going down on one knee in the thick snow.
“You screwed with…the SEAL…EXtreme team.” It was Preston’s voice. He was still alive!
Ty rose and started running again. He’d kill the bastard and get Preston out of there. The kid was going to be okay. He had to be okay.
Preston went on, choking on his words. “Payback’s…a…bitch.”
The explosion threw Ty on his ass. He lay there a second staring up at the snow falling on his cheeks, stunned. The world was silent. His hearing had been shut off by the blast. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs for the second time in less than ten minutes and rolled over on his side.
“Preston?”
No Idiot, no snowmobile, no buried helo. There was nothing left but a black crater in the snow.
Chapter Four
‡
A loud boom woke Holly. She was on her side in the snow, wet and freezing. Everything hurt. Her shoulder screamed. Slowly, she tried lifting her arm and could which meant it wasn’t broken or dislocated. She rubbed the snow crystals off her eyes, but still had trouble focusing. A few feet away a lump of gray and white fur stuck out of the snow.
“Oh my gosh. Lucy! Girl, are you okay?” A sob stuck in her throat. Obviously, the answer was no. Please be alive.
Holly started crawling to her baby with arms and legs that barely moved. Cold, so cold. Her feet were numb, her hands ached. The world seemed to be spinning. Blizzard winds blew sideways, and snow swam all around her. Her head…oh wow…felt like it had been kicked by a moose. She started to black out. Fight it. Passing out again would be a death sentence. Come on, Holly. You can do this.
Behind her, a dog barked. Conan. She sucked in a few sharp, freezing breaths. Slowly, she turned her head, praying to God an angry bull wasn’t breathing down her neck. Her prayers were answered. The moose was gone and so was the sun. How long had she been passed out in the snow? She’d left Lovers’ Lodge in the morning, and now it was dark. But that didn’t mean she’d been unconscious all night. This time of the year, there were only five hours of daylight. Still, it felt late.
She fumbled in her pocket for her cell phone to call Big Jake. He’d be expecting her for dinner and would worry if she didn’t show up. Maybe he’d already sent a dog team out to find her. Hope sailed high in her fuzzy, freezing world. It beat being scared to death she’d never be able to drive herself and Lucy back to safety. Her cell phone still read “out of service.”
Conan barked again as if to say, Let’s go, Mom!
“Yeah, I know. I’m trying,” she said softly. She was so weak.
Forcing herself to move, she dragged her tingling legs toward Lucy. With trembling arms, she reached out and touched the gray fur.
Lucy whimpered. She was alive. Holly might have whimpered too. Gently, she drove her wooden arms beneath Lucy’s battered body. “It’s okay, girl. We’re going home.”
She unhooked Lucy’s tugline and neckline. It took all of her strength to lift the nearly forty-pound dog. She swayed her way back to the sled and placed Lucy in the dog bag used for sick or injured dogs, and tucked her inside the basket, the main body of the sled. Lucy licked Holly’s hand.
“Oh, girl.” Holly’s voice cracked.
She leaned into the wind and slogged through the snow to the back of the sled. Placing her feet on the foot boards of the runners, she grabbed hold of the handle bow, and curled her body forward. It hurt to stand up straight against the wind. She coiled Lucy’s lines from the sled around her own waist and hips and looped them over her good shoulder so she wouldn’t fall off.
“It’s up to you, Conan. Take us home. Hike!”
Conan whined and didn’t move. He needed Lucy to guide him.
“She can’t help you. You’re the lead dog now. You can do it.” He had to do it, or she and Lucy would die in this blizzard. “Hike!”
This time, Conan got the message. He took off running and the sled lurched forward. Holly gripped the handle bow as best she could and hoped Conan knew where he was going in this whiteout. The urge to sleep was a powerfully strong drug and Holly was out of strength. Tucking her chin down, deep into her parka, she closed her eyes and gave in to the cold.
*
Ty couldn’t believe it. Preston was dead. The poor kid had taken out the enemy while saving Ty’s life and the mission. He was a SEAL EXtreme brother after all. Damn. Ty muttered several choice curse words under his breath. It hurt to find a brother and lose him all in one day. But Ty couldn’t stick around to mourn. Once the weather let up a bit, Crow would be sending more men to find out what had happened to the other two. Ty had to bug out before it was too late.
There was no telling what Crow was up to, but if it was anything like the attack on the U.S. Department of Defense the bastard had orchestrated in Macao, it was bad. Being able to shut down all communication and radar was a compelling weapon. All sorts of illegal activity could be hidden under the radar whiteout. Crow’s team could be transporting nukes, biotechnical weapons, or building an army, and no one would know. Whatever it was, the SEAL EXtreme team would stop him.
Time was ticking, and the blizzard was howling like a sonofabitch. Without a working GPS, a radio, or a cell phone, he had to rely on his instincts. Fully loaded, he leaned into the wind and trekked fast and hard through the snow. Frozen Balls’ snow mobile was out there somewhere. If he could find it, there might be a small chance he’d make it out of this thing alive.
He had a flashlight and night vision goggles, but a helluva lot they did for him in the mother of all storms. The light produced white light on white snow. Nothing was giving off a heat signal. Still he pressed on, trying to determine how far Frozen Balls walked after he got the thing stuck. And in which direction? And why in the hell did it keep snowing? Wasn’t it bad enough it was pitch black and frigid cold?
After nearly an hour of slogging through the night he finally found the snowmobile. It fired right up. The next thing to do was to get its nose out of the deep snow bank Crow’s man had driven it into. Moron. After several minutes of rocking it back and forth, it was clear. He put Frozen Balls’ helmet on. The snowmobile’s light was better suited to the blizzard conditions than his flashlight. Not great, but better. He could see five feet in front of his face—enough distance to steer clear of a tree, or hill before he hit it. Maybe. He set his trajectory due south—the opposite direction Idiot and Frozen Balls had come from—and drove as fast as he could. With any luck, he’d find a town, or get enough miles behind him to break free of Crow’s radar whiteout. The sooner the EXtreme Team got here, the sooner they could interrogate the shit out of Crow and stop his evil plans.
The wind and snow lashed him. His snowmobile hit rocks and all sorts of shit he couldn’t see. He didn’t care as long as he kept going, fast and far. The SEAL motto, “the only easy day was yesterday,” was proving to be accurate. This was one hairy ass long, hard day.
Time was a strange thing in a blizzard. He couldn’t tell how long he’d been going, but it felt like he’d been plowing through the snow for hours. His hands were numb. His teeth chattered. He kept going until the snowmobile started sputtering. And then the damned thing quit altogether. Ty used his gloves to rub the ice off the controls.
Shit. Out of gas. He’d have to ditch the thing. He scanned the horizon. The light from the snowmobile skipped across a dark, gaping slash in the snow. Carefully, he crept along the edge a crevasse. Holy mother, it was deep. Perfect. He pushed the heavy sled as h
ard as he could and shoved it into the crevasse. It fell and fell, finally landing with a loud thud at the bottom. No one could see it from the air, or from land, for that matter. With the snow falling hard, Ty’s tracks would disappear too. Crow would have a helluva time tracking him. Now Ty was under the radar. Invisible. Just like he liked it.
He took off on foot.
Leaning into the wind, he dragged his body deeper and deeper into the woods. Who said Hell was hot? He was freezing to death. Frostbite would steal the nose off his face he didn’t find shelter soon. His body screamed for rest, but he had the heart and soul of a SEAL. He’d pushed his body harder than this countless times and in deadlier situations. At least no one was shooting at him or lobbing RPGs his way. He’d take the grain of optimism where he could get it.
Faster, Whitehorse, he ordered himself. No doubts. No weaknesses.
He was the only one who knew what happened to Preston. The kid deserved a medal of honor for his bravery and sacrifice, and Ty would make damn sure he got it. He was also the only one who knew Crow’s whereabouts. Lugging the intel back to Admiral Collins had landed squarely on his shoulders. He was beyond exhausted, but he would not fail.
After half an hour of slogging through thigh-high snow, he stopped to catch his breath and check for a radar or cell signal. Nothing. He was still caught in Crow’s cone of silence. Dammit. When the team got their hands on that bastard…
Anger and duty were the pistons that fired his legs and lifted his boots. He pressed on, putting hard miles between himself and the crevasse where he dumped the snowmobile. It was strenuous work, and soon his eyes started to cross. Shit, he was tired. A couple of times he felt himself falling forward. Face planting in the snow wasn’t an option for he might not get back up. If Crow’s men didn’t kill him, the exposure in sub-zero temperatures would. He’d gone far enough. Ty needed shelter. He’d find the best tree he could hide behind while he dug out a man-sized hole in the snow then he’d crawl in and sleep for a week. Swinging his flashlight in a slow arc through the trees, he spotted something… interesting. Half a click ahead was a dark and wavy blur just out of reach of his light.