Khat crumpled wearily against him as he gently eased his hand around her gowned shoulders. She had five years of tired that she carried within her. Clinging to him, her head against his shoulder, Khat felt hot tears of grief, letting go of the past, and running toward a joy she never knew could exist until Mike had stepped into her life.
He kissed the curve of her ear, strands tickling his nose. “Want to hear about that good surprise?”
Khat eased away, holding his gaze, feeling the warmth of his love sheeting through her. “Yes. What is it?”
“Mina,” he told her quietly, holding her widening eyes. “My father asked his relative in Saudi Arabia to fly in a C-130 to pick her up here at Bagram. They are going to fly her to my father’s black Arabian stud farm in Alpine for you.” He grazed her cheek with his thumb, seeing the shock and then joy come to her eyes. “I wasn’t going to leave Mina behind, Khat. She’s been a major part of your life and has saved you so many times. She’s just as much the warrior you are and risked her life time and again for you. Like you, she deserves some peace, happiness and a new, loving family who will surround her and make her one of them.”
Choking on a sob, Khat managed a strangled, “Thank you… Thank you for doing that… I was so worried for Mina… I didn’t know what would happen to her…”
Mike released her and sat up, his arm bracketing her hips, palms flat on the mattress, studying her. “Mina deserves a reward for all that she’s done for you, Angel. Now, my father, Bedir, wants to know if you would like her bred to his black stallion. I told him that you needed some time to think about that.”
“Does that mean that I can see Mina sometimes?”
Mike shrugged. “Sure, the horse farm is about twenty-five miles northwest of where we’ll be living and working. My parents have invited us up to stay any weekend we want at their ranch. You’ll have many, many miles of trails to ride your brave horse anytime you want.”
“And her leg? Has it improved since you came back to Bravo?”
Nodding, Mike slipped his hand down her arm, feeling her strength beneath the warm skin. “Yes, Travis is looking out for her now. He’s wrapping her legs for transit that will take place tomorrow.” His voice fell. “You won’t be able to say goodbye to her, Khat. The Saudi transport is coming in the morning to pick her up. They have a large padded stall prepared for her. She’ll be fine. There’s also a Saudi veterinarian on board who will accompany her all the way to my father’s horse farm. She’s in good hands.”
“She’ll be safe,” Khat whispered, touched. “That’s all I care about. Your father, Bedir, is so special.” She managed a broken smile up at him, placing her hand against his bearded face. “Like you, Michael Tarik. You are an ancient warrior who has stepped into today’s world, in my eyes. You have the heart, the morals and values of the finest of the old guard Middle Eastern caliphs and chieftains of so long ago.”
“And I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you, Khat.” Mike took her hand, kissing her opened palm, feeling her respond. Khat was exquisitely sensitive to the lightest of touches, and he silently promised her that when they started their new life Stateside, he was going to make her as happy as he could.
Mike knew there were a lot of hurdles ahead for Khat, knew her father was still a dark shadow in her life, still eviscerating her emotionally. From now on, he would shield her from him. Mike knew what a good father was because he had one, and he hoped that Bedir would gently show Khat the warmth and love that a parent should give to their child. He knew his parents would fall in love with Khat, and they would embrace her with their hearts, just as he had.
Life was never easy, and Mike knew that firsthand, but what Khat had endured and managed to survive? It was phenomenal in his eyes. To finally have this beautiful woman with the red hair and green eyes in his bed, at his side, being able to love her fully, was something he was going to look forward to. And later, when the time was right, they would marry.
Right now Khat was in the middle of a tremendous life change, and Mike had no wish to pressure her any more than she already was. She was giving up a way of life. That took guts.
A knot formed in his throat as he watched her smile softly up at him. How did he get so damned lucky? This woman was one in six billion, no other like her on this planet. And she was his. All his. Forever.
*
If you loved this book and these characters, there is more to their story in ON FIRE, an e-novella by Lindsay McKenna. ON FIRE is available now on Harlequin.com or at your favorite online retailer!
Don’t miss Lindsay McKenna’s next SHADOW WARRIORS novel, RUNNING FIRE, coming to you in May 2015!
Only from HQN Books and available wherever you buy books and ebooks!
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CHAPTER ONE
“READY, LEAH?” CAPTAIN Brian Larsen asked.
Chief Warrant Officer Leah Mackenzie picked up the mission information from the US Army 80th Shadow Squadron office. She looked outside, getting a bad feeling. It was raining at Camp Bravo, a FOB, forward operating base, thirty miles from the Pakistan border. “This is a lousy night,” she told the MH-47 pilot. She saw Brian nod.
“It sucks,” he agreed. “But we gotta make this exfil.”
Leah followed him across Operations, helmet bag in one hand, knee board in the other. It was 2400, midnight, and they were to pick up a SEAL team one mile from the Af-Pak border. They had thirty minutes to meet the black ops team who had been out for a week hunting high-value target Taliban leaders.
Her heart picked up a beat as they walked quickly from Operations onto the wet tarmac. Their MH-47, a specially equipped Chinook helicopter that could fly in any kind of weather conditions, had been prepped by the ground crew and was ready for them to board.
The rain was slashing down, cold and quickly soaking Leah’s desert-tan one-piece flight suit. It was June 1, and Brian told her rain was unusual at this time of year in eastern Afghanistan.
Bravo sat at eight thousand feet in the Hindu Kush mountains. Leah had arrived three weeks ago, acclimating and learning the Shadow Squadron area that they operated within. She had replaced a pilot who had gotten appendicitis. And being the only woman in the 80th, she stood out whether she wanted to or not. It was time to take to the sky.
“This is a shitty area to pick anyone up in,” Brian muttered. “You remember? It’s a very narrow valley? With the mountains on the east side at fourteen thousand? And on the west side at ten thousand?”
“Yes,” Leah answered. She’d worked hard to commit the terrain to memory. Black ops never picked up a team at the same spot—ever. It could be a trap or ambush the second time around. “What I don’t like is we’re landing too close to a series of caves. The Taliban routinely hide in them.”
“Roger that one,” Brian agreed grimly, studying the all-terrain radar on his HUD, head’s up display. “The SEALs said they couldn’t locate any tangos nearby, but that means squat. The Taliban hide in the caves and pop up with RPGs after we land.”
Leah nodded. Her adrenaline was already flooding into her bloodstream. Should she tell Brian she had a bad feeling? That when she did, things went to hell in a handbag? “Is there any way this team can meet us out in that narrow valley?”
“No. Then they become targets for any Taliban sitting up high in those caves.”
Mouth quirking, Leah felt her stomach tighten. She flew the Chinook in the long, flat stratus clouds, the rain slashing downward at four thousand feet. In ten minutes they’d hit the last waypoint and start descending, going in to the exfil area to pick up the awaiting SEAL team.
She heard Brian talking with Ted over the intercom. The crew chief would have to lower the ramp once they began to descend into the pickup zone. Brian had made his authorization request with Bagram Air Base, where the major part of the 80th Shadow battalion was stationed. No mission went down unless authorization was approved by everyone. And it had just been approved. It was a go.
Leah listened to all transmissions while her gaze constantly roved across the cockpit instrument panel. Everything felt good and solid to her. She’d flown by the seat of her pants since age sixteen, when her father, bird Colonel David Mackenzie, taught her how to fly. The reason she got into the Shadow Squadron was because he was the commander of this particular battalion. She was the only woman in it, and Leah hoped other deserving women pilots would be allowed to follow in her footsteps sooner, not later.
“I’ll take the controls,” Brian said.
“You have the controls,” Leah said, releasing them. Brian was worried about this pickup area and she was happy to allow the pilot more experienced in this region to fly them in and out. She busied herself with talking to the SEAL team on the ground and preparing the helo for the pickup.
At one thousand feet, she gave Ted the order to open the ramp. Instantly, a grinding sound began throughout the hollow fuselage. The closer they descended to the ground, the harder it rained.
The hair on the back of Leah’s neck stood up. A feeling of real danger washed through her. Compressing her full lips, she watched as the Chinook came out of the low-hanging cloud cover at three hundred feet. Looking to the east, she saw the caves, all black maws. Their exfil was down below them, on a gentle slope that would be easy to land upon. Her heart rate picked up and she felt a strong thrust of adrenaline burning through her.
*
NAVY SEAL CHIEF Kell Ballard lay in his hide, fourteen hundred yards west of where he saw the Shadow helicopter dropping below the low cloud cover. He was hidden and dry, his .300 Win Mag sniper rifle covered with fabric to camouflage it from enemy eyes. He’d been watching through his Nightforce scope for any thermal activity other than that of his two SEAL brothers on the opposite side of the narrow valley who were about to be picked up. The problem was the rain was so heavy that Kell knew Taliban could be in those caves and even he wouldn’t be able to spot them.
The whumping sounds of the twin engine MH-47 Chinook vibrated the air throughout the narrow-necked valley. He panned his rifle slowly, looking through his infrared scope at the helicopter descending.
Then he moved his scope farther down and to his left. He saw two thermal images of the SEALs, hiding behind brush, waiting for exfil. They’d been in contact with one another all week, although Kell’s single sniper mission was different from their mission. He’d already been out here three weeks, waiting for an HVT to slip into Afghanistan. He was sitting on the mountain to intercept the bastard when it happened. So far, he’d just waited and watched.
He’d been in touch with one of the pilots on board the Chinook, a Captain Larson. Kell had warned him that Taliban could be hidden in those caves. He had no way to find them unless one of them rose up and fired an RPG at the helo. He turned his scope toward those caves once more, trying to protect the helo, just in case.
Kell watched the Chinook swing over the valley, staying as far away from those caves as possible. But the valley was exceedingly tapered in shape, and the huge rotor circumference on this transport helo forced it to make a long, wide turn.
The Chinook was at one hundred feet, descending rapidly. Shadow pilots got in and out as swiftly as possible, knowing they were always vulnerable when landing and taking off.
Kell inhaled deeply, the night air moist and the rain punctured by the heavy echo of thumping blades. His heart rate slowed and he focused on the caves, watching the helo cautiously approach.
His intense focus was on the caves, moving his rifle scope slowly, right to left and then back again. Any heat signatures? None so far. His finger was on the two-pound trigger. He had a bullet in the chamber and two more in the mag. The wind gusted and whipped around his hide. The rain thickened, making his visual blurry. Kell’s heart suddenly plunged. He saw three heat signatures suddenly pop up from a cave.
Son of a bitch!
All three Taliban had RPGs on their shoulders, ready to fire! There was no time for a radio warning as the first enemy fired his RPG at the helo. Kell pulled the trigger, taking out the second Taliban. Moving swiftly, he scoped the third one, firing.
Too late!
*
LEAH SAW A flash off to the right, out of the corner of her eye, as Brian brought the Chinook down onto the slope.
“RPG!” she yelled. And then, the entire center of the helicopter exploded, shrapnel, fire and pressure-wave concussions slamming Leah forward. She felt the deep bite of the harness into her shoulders. Brian screamed as the fire roared forward. Leah ducked to the left, toward the fuselage at her elbow, feeling the burning heat and precious oxygen stolen from their lungs.
A second RPG struck the rear of the helicopter. The thunderous explosion ripped off the rear rotor assembly, the blades, flying razors shrieking out into the night.
Leah’s head got yanked to the right from the second RPG hit. The entire cockpit Plexiglas blew outward. Thousands of shards shattered and rained around her like glittering sparkles, catching the fire within the bird. She heard Brian screaming, fire enveloping the entire cockpit. She smelled her hair burning.
The fire was so intense, Leah couldn’t reach out and get to Brian’s harness. With shaking hands, she found the release on her own harness. The whole helo was tearing in two. Metal screeched and tore. She heard the rotor just behind and above her head rip off. A loose blade sailed through the cockpit. Because she was out of her harness, she avoided most of the slicing blade’s action. It cut the other pilot’s seat in half. Sobbing, Leah knew it had killed Brian instantly.
Escape! Egress!
Choking on the smoke, Leah thought her fire-retardant uniform was going to burst into flames any second now. Fire roared through the inside of the broken bird. Gasping, she crawled to the blown-out window to her left. Shoving her boots up onto the seat, she launched herself out the window. Leah felt immediate pain in her right arm, slashed by a jagged piece of Plexiglas left in the aluminum window frame.
She fell ten feet, hitting the rocks and mud below, tumbling end over end. Dazed, blood running down the right side of her head, she tried to get up. Her hands and legs wouldn’t work. The black clouds of smoke enveloped her. The rain slashed at Leah’s eyes, part of her helmet visor broken, exposing her face to the violent weather. Coughing, gagging, the smoke smothered her. She got on all fours and moved away as fast as she could. Air! She had to get air or she’d die of smoke inhalation!
The rocks bit into her hands and bruised her knees. Disoriented, Leah heard gunfire from her right and left. Collapsing to the ground, she crawled on her belly, so damned dizzy she wasn’t sure where she was at or where she was headed. There was another explosion behind her. Part of the Chinook had ripped in half, the aviation fuel set on fire. The pressure wave struck her, smashing her helmet into the rocks. It was the last thing Leah remembered.
*
KELL CURSED RICHLY, leaping out of his hide and leaving his sniper rifle behind. He pulled the Sig pistol from his drop holster, crouching and sprinting down the slope. He had fourteen hundred yards to run before he would reach that pilot he saw fall out of the Chinook’s starboard side window near the cockpit.
Slipping and sliding, the rain so heavy he could barely see even with his NVGs on, Ballard watched for more trouble. The two SEALs waiting for extract had immediately broken contact and were already on the run toward the cave where the RPGs had been shot from. They’d have to contact the platoon at Bravo for another pickup at a later date.
Kell breathed hard. The slippery soil slowed him down. He had dispatched all three Taliban. But were there more of them around that he hadn’t seen through his scope? And that wa
s the greater problem. He flipped up his NVGs because the roaring flames around the destroyed helo blinded his night vision capability.
The last he’d seen through his scope, the pilot was about a hundred feet west of the wreckage. He’d disappeared beneath the roiling, thick smoke. Where the hell could he be?
Circling the helo, staying well away from it, Kell entered the heavy smoke. Immediately, he started choking and gagging. Crouching low, moving swiftly, Kell began a hunt for the pilot. He had no idea if the man was dead or not. He was amazed even one of them had managed to get out of that flaming helo alive.
Kell almost stumbled over the body. He fell to his knees. The pilot was on his belly, arms stretched out in front of him, thrown forward by the second, bigger blast. Gasping, unable to see except by feel as more smoke poured into the area, Kell grabbed the man and threw him into a fireman’s carry across his shoulders. Only, to his shock, he felt breasts resting against his shoulders.
What the hell? A woman?
Copyright © 2015 by Nauman Living Trust
ISBN-13: 9781460380451
Taking Fire
Copyright © 2015 by Nauman Living Trust
Excerpt from Running Fire
Copyright © 2015 by Nauman Living Trust
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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