“Get the men,” Mustafa ordered.
Jerking out of his reverie, Zmarai nodded and stood, the sniper rifle resting beneath his arm. He quickly moved to a grove of trees down below the ridge where they’d been patiently awaiting orders.
*
BAY FELT THE hot Afghan sun bearing down on her between the boughs of the pine trees. The green scarf had worked its way off her head, pooling around her shoulders. She was treating a squalling baby, the mother worried as she patiently crouched nearby. After giving the baby girl a vaccine, Bay smiled over at the mother, reassuring her in Pashto that her daughter would be fine.
As she looked up, Bay noticed that the line of women and children had grown again. And it was already noon. Her stomach growled to remind her she needed to eat. But after one look at their anxious and hopeful faces, she remained sitting in that old chair that had been provided to her along with a deeply scarred wooden table in the shade of the grove.
She asked the SF sergeant, who was acting as her bodyguard, to get her an MRE for lunch from her hut. He hesitated because he was her security. Finally, after she pleaded with him, he agreed, saying he would be back shortly.
As she waited for the next child, a three-year-old little girl who limped, her tiny hand clenching her mother’s hand, Bay heard an odd sound. The ground began to vibrate beneath her feet. What was it? An earthquake? Afghanistan was rife with them.
Suddenly, several women near the rear of the crowd started to scream. Bay stood up, looking in the direction they were pointing and shrieking. Her heart slammed into her chest, pounding with adrenaline as she saw twenty Taliban horsemen burst out of the nearby wadi.
The horses were galloping hard toward the group. Bay jerked her radio to her lips, calling Captain Anderson, warning him of the attack. She didn’t hesitate, pulling the .45 pistol she carried, taking the fight toward the charging group of horsemen. Several fired their rifles, their shots going wild and wide. Bay threw herself on the ground, belly first, making herself a harder target to hit. Where were Anderson and his men? The only gunfire she heard was from the Taliban racing down upon the terrified group of scattering women with children.
Breathing hard, sweat running down her temples, Bay held the .45 with both hands and began to fire slowly and systematically. She saw one, two, three soldiers torn off their charging mounts by her carefully aimed bullets. Where the hell was the help?
The line of women and children moved like a writhing, startled snake. Some mothers grabbed their children, yanking them off their feet as the riders dove into them. Others fell, covering their children with their bodies as the horses’ sharp hooves ran over them.
A murderous-looking man with a black beard riding a huge black horse bore down on her. She scrambled from her prone position to kneeling, holding her pistol out and steady in her hands. She saw the hate, the sneer on his lips as he galloped straight towards her.
Her world slowed down, and that was when Bay knew she was in a life-and-death moment. She realized she could die in this daylight attack and had no time to look around for help. Taliban soldiers were tearing little boys and girls from the arms of their screaming mothers. Shrieks of the frightened children filled the air, wails from the mothers, their arms outstretched toward the fleeing soldiers who had stolen their crying children.
Her hands bucked as she fired at the swiftly moving black horse and rider. The bullet struck his leg, and he cursed, kicked his horse savagely, directly aiming at her. And then, from behind, she was thrust forward into the dirt, her head slamming into the dust. Pain and burning sensation radiated hotly over the right side of her back. Stunned, unable to breathe, Bay tried to move. She realized someone behind her had shot her in the back, striking her Kevlar vest.
Oh, God. Oh…God…
*
MUSTAFA JERKED HIS black stallion to a sliding stop. He leaped out of the saddle, his right calf bleeding, nearly crumpling beneath him. Cursing the infidel whore for shooting him, he jumped upon her just as she was trying to roll over and aim her pistol at him. With a snarl, he wrenched it out of her hands. Balling his fist, he used all his weight and strength to slam it down into the left side of her face. He heard the crunch of bone, and satisfaction roared through him. The woman cried out, and then her eyes rolled back in her head. She slumped unconscious beneath him.
Zmarai skidded his horse to a halt, the animal dancing around, tossing its head. Mustafa gestured sharply for Zmarai to help lift the American woman, so they could throw her over the front of his saddle.
Mustafa cursed richly as he discovered the American woman was a lot heavier than he expected. Huffing, he grabbed her and hauled her over to the horse. Between the two of them, they were able to drag her across the saddle.
“Run!” Mustafa roared. He turned and recognized the large rucksack that combat medics carried. Limping over to it, he grabbed it, shrugged it over his narrow shoulders and then mounted his frantic, frightened stallion. Looking up, he saw several SF soldiers running toward them. Bullets zinged and snapped around him. He sank his heels into his stallion, and the animal leaped forward, nostrils flared red, lunging toward the wadi.
Mustafa quickly galloped into the thickly lined ravine. In seconds, the trees covered their escape, hiding them from the enemies’ sights and bullets. He laughed triumphantly, watching as his men up ahead spurred their mounts, whipped them mercilessly with riding crops.
He felt a thrill of triumph. Five boys and three girls squirmed and cried beneath the arms of his soldiers. Eight! It was a good day! Even better, Zmarai rode ahead of him, the woman medic held in place while he galloped ever upward through the trees. She would pay dearly for shooting him. That, he promised her. His knuckles hurt, and he looked down to see them bruised and swelling from striking her so hard. She would get more of the same when it suited him. He’d never expected her to shoot three of his soldiers and then wound him. Satan’s whore!
CHAPTER EIGHT
GABE JERKED AWAKE, a scream on his lips. Disoriented, breathing hard, sweat running down his temples, he felt as if he were underwater, suffocating, unable to reach the surface for air.
God…what?
His mind tumbled. He looked at the digital red letters on the clock on the bed stand. It was 12:30 a.m. As he gasped for breath, his gut was tied in knots. He lay naked in the bed, feeling a horrible rush of anxiety tunnel and twist violently through him. Another nightmare? Hell, he had them regularly. This one was different. Very different. It raised the hair on the nape of his neck.
He forced himself to sit up, swinging his legs over the bed. The moment his bare feet hit the cool bamboo flooring, it gave him something to focus on, something to ground himself with. His reaction to the nightmare was joltingly different.
What the hell?
Gabe forced himself to control his breathing; something he was very good at because he was a sniper. He could damn near control every bodily function he had, including lowering his heart rate.
Wiping the sweat off his face, he blinked several times. Why was he feeling so damned scared? What the hell was this all about? He stared at the clock, making mental calculations that it was noon for Bay in Afghanistan. Daytime was safer than nighttime over there. The Taliban struck during the dark hours.
Had he had a precognitive dream about her? One that showed him something that was going to happen to her? The SEAL chief’s phone call last week had made him edgy. Tense. Maybe he was just working that out in his dream state? How the hell did he know? He was no friggin’ shrink.
Standing, Gabe walked out of the bedroom, down the hall to the kitchen. He wanted water, his mouth feeling as if it had cotton balls in it. He stood at the sink, filled the glass, tipped it to his lips and slugged down the liquid. Finishing off the glass of water, he set it in the sink, turned and walked into the quiet living room.
Frowning, he felt restless, as if he had something important to do. His mind raced with questions. No answers were forthcoming. Rubbing his face with his hands,
he muttered a curse. Dammit, he needed this sleep so badly. The past week, he’d been involved in the swim qualifications down at the SEAL base located on Coronado. He was in the water eight to ten hours a day. If the trained dolphins who protected the ships in the bay weren’t trying to bust his ribs as he put a fake limpet mine on the side of a cruiser’s hull beneath the water, then they were dealing with harbor seals whose duty it was to protect exactly that: the harbor. SEALs trained dolphins and harbor seals to defend and protect all the ships in the San Diego Bay. Whether they were dealing with nuclear-classed submarines, cruisers, a carrier or destroyer, they had been taught to kill an enemy frogman trying to sink a ship in their bay. His ribs were bruised as hell. His partner, Hammer, had busted a couple of ribs when an aggressive dolphin had taken him head-on yesterday. Hammer had lost that round and would be benched for six weeks while the fractures healed.
Looking around the near-dark condo, Gabe couldn’t shake the awful, roiling anxiety roaring through him. He felt his belly tighten, as if he were going to get hit with an unknown fist coming his way. Damn. Maybe a warm shower would help calm him down? It always had in the past.
Just as Gabe emerged from the bathroom, the white towel hanging low on his narrow hips, the phone rang. Looking at his Rolex, he saw it was two in the morning. An unsettled feeling avalanched him. No one called at this time of night. His mind spun with shock as he hurried to the phone sitting on the granite island in the kitchen. The only call he’d receive at this time of morning was….and he angrily shook his head, not going there. No. It wasn’t that phone call. It just couldn’t be….
Grabbing the phone, he growled, “Chief Griffin here.”
“Gabe? This is Chief Phillips.”
He felt all the air getting sucked out of his lungs, stunned to hear the SEAL’s voice calling from Camp Bravo in Afghanistan. Knees weak, Gabe suddenly sat down. “What’s happened to Bay?” he asked, holding the phone so tight his knuckles whitened.
“I’m sorry to call you,” he began heavily. “At noon our time, Mustafa Khogani attacked the village where she was holding a medical clinic. There were twenty Taliban riders, and they swept up through the line where she was helping the women and children.”
“Dammit, is she all right?” he ground out, his breath choking in his throat. Closing his eyes, he heard the SEAL Chief draw in a deep breath as if to fortify himself.
“No, she’s been kidnapped, Gabe. Reza, the terp, saw her shot from behind. Reza told Captain Anderson he recognized Mustafa Khogani on his black stallion come riding up to her. Bay fired at him, hitting him, we think, in the left leg. She was stunned by a Kevlar hit from behind. It threw her forward and to the ground. Khogani leaped off his horse and punched her in the face before she could get a second shot off at him. Reza said she went unconscious at that point. Khogani put her up on another rider’s horse, who is unidentified, and they rode for the wadi and disappeared into the underbrush. Khogani then ran over and grabbed her medical rucksack and took it with him.”
Gabe couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak. A knot in his throat was so painful, he couldn’t pass words through or around it. Gabe’s mind spun with the information. He’d snapped awake at twelve-thirty in the morning. That would have been the exact time Bay had been kidnapped.
He rubbed his face savagely. “Chief, get me ordered over there right now. I’ll get my commander to let me get over there as soon as possible. I’m coming over as a strap-hanger. I’ll find her…”
“I’ll do it, Gabe.”
“What’s being done right now?”
“We had no drones in the valley,” he said, his voice tight with anger. “Those CIA boys here at Bravo knew we desperately needed one over there because of all the ongoing attacks the past two months. They just laughed at us when we requested eyes on that valley. If we’d had a drone on station, we’d have seen Khogani coming. This could have all been avoided.”
“I’ll deal with them later. Whose mounting the rescue effort?” Gabe’s heart was pounding so hard in his chest, he thought it might tear out of it. His mind whirled with shock, fear and rage. Bay was kidnapped. Jesus. She was in the worst kind of trouble. Could he get over there fast enough? Was there enough military assets to pull free in order to help aid the search for Bay? What was Khogani going to do with her?
God…no…no…please, protect her until I can find her…please…
“Captain Anderson is working with Reza. The Afghan interpreter is tracking Khogani and his men with two SF soldiers.”
“Is that all?” Gabe barely hung on to his mounting rage. Dammit!
“Hell, no, Gabe, that’s not all. But you know as well as I that a woman soldier being captured, the shit is hitting the fan straight up to the Pentagon and into the White House to the president. Command was first going to remove Anderson’s people immediately out of the country. But we were able to talk them out of it. Besides, Captain Anderson refused to go. From our end we’re sending two four-man SEAL fire teams into the area. They’ve already been airlifted over there and are beginning the hunt.”
“What about drones now?” he snapped, his fury mounting over Bay’s kidnapping.
“The CIA just got one over there an hour ago. We’re coordinating with our two teams and with Reza. Our teams are using Ravens. As soon as they landed on that mountain ridge by helo, they sent their drones out. So far, they’ve not spotted anyone.”
Wanting to cry, to scream, Gabe shut his eyes tightly, trying to think what to do next. “Can you get me a flight out of Anderson in Washington, D.C.?” Chiefs could move the whole world if it pleased them. He knew Phillips was upset and involved. He had Bay’s back in this debacle. She was one of them, and he had no doubt that Phillips would expend every effort to locate her.
“I’m on it, but I’m not sending you through D.C. I’ll send you west out of California. I’ve started making the connections already. You just get your orders cut from your end, Gabe. I’ll handle the rest.”
“I’ve got to get over the fastest way possible, Chief. It can’t be two or three days from now. Bay won’t have that kind of time and you know it.”
Because Bay could already be dead. Her tortured, mutilated body would be thrown onto a goat path to rot until the vultures found her. Or until a SEAL team accidentally stumbled upon her body. His stomach clenched painfully as he wildly looked around the silent condo. Breathing raggedly, he waited.
“Okay, I’ll make it happen, Gabe.”
“You’ve got my cell phone number?”
“Yes. I’ll call you with steady updates as I receive them. You’re in the loop.”
Desperately trying to steady his breath, his heart hurting, Gabe whispered roughly, “Thanks, Chief Phillips. I owe you a whole helluva lot on this one.”
“I’m sorry this happened, Gabe. I’ve got the entire platoon on standby. If anyone is gonna find those slimy bastards, it’ll be us.”
“Thanks,” he choked out, all his strength deserting him as he hung up the phone. His stomach roiled. Turning, Gabe barely made it to the kitchen sink where he vomited up everything he’d eaten the night before.
*
“WAKE HER UP!” Mustafa ordered his men. His leg was continuing to leak blood. The American whore had caused his wound. Not caring if the woman was still unconscious an hour after they’d arrived at the second cave on the other side of the mountain, Khogani wanted something done to stop his pain.
One of the soldiers took a bucket of water, throwing it on the woman who lay sprawled out on her back in the sand of the cave. They’d stripped her of the Kevlar vest and took her .45 pistol and holster away from her. They’d found a knife hidden within her trousers, strapped to her right ankle. As the water splashed savagely against her bloodied and swollen face, she moaned. Mustafa stood there, his arms crossed. She began choking. Smiling a little, he watched the whore’s eyes open to slits, her hair soaked, her face pale.
“Get her up!” he growled, snapping his fingers.
Instantly, two of his soldiers curved their hands beneath each of her armpits and hauled her up to her feet. Her knees collapsed beneath her, and she cried out. Blood was dripping out of her nose, the red splotches hitting the front of her uniform and boots.
“Shake her! I want her awake!”
Bay felt pain in her arms as she was jerked around. Her head snapped back and forth. She tried to compensate, everything spinning around her. Gasping, her lungs heaving, she gagged and vomited.
Khogani snarled and strode forward. He wrapped his hand into her loosened hair, jerking her head up. “Look at me, whore!” he yelled into her face in Pashto.
Bay grunted, pain tearing across her scalp. Her eyesight was blurred, and she was seeing double. Her knees kept giving out. She felt the grip of men’s hands on her upper arms, shaking her savagely, trying to make her stand on her own. Angry black eyes glared back at her. The man’s bearded face hovered inches from her own. She smelled garlic and goat on his breath, and it made her even sicker.
Trembling, Bay tried to stand, tried to make her knees work for her. Pain increased as he viciously tightened his fingers into her hair. She gave a little grunt as he forced her head back, fully exposing her throat.
“Whore! Either you wake up or I’ll slit your infidel throat here and now!”
His hot, rotten-smelling breath made her gag. Adrenaline suddenly shot into her bloodstream. Her ears were ringing, his Pashto threats distorted. Gasping, Bay made herself look into his angry, small black eyes. It was the same Taliban soldier who had ridden the black horse. Bay recognized the sneer on his lips, his yellow coated, rotten teeth.
Mustafa cursed and released her hair. Stepping back, he settled his hand on the butt of his curved scimitar blade. His eyes slitted as he watched her struggle to stand instead of continually collapsing. Her left eye was nearly swollen shut. He smiled, watching her fight into conscious awareness. He flicked his wrist, telling the two soldiers to release her.
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