by Ronie Kendig
The man cursed.
“Stand down,” Colton shouted at him.
“Cowboy, report!”
Colton blinked. His hearing popped, returned. The gray overcast sky returned. His realization returned. Another flashback.
Scar stared at him, scowling. “What’s wrong with you, man?”
“Cowboy, what is your situation?”
“Dude, you going to answer or what?”
Indignation … humiliation … His stomach was ready to hurl the contents of his dinner—which wasn’t much. He wiped a hand over his mouth, swallowing the bitter taste that filled his mouth.
Shaken and limbs trembling, he low-crawled back to his rifle. Worked to steady his breathing. Cursing himself for being so messed up he couldn’t keep it together under pressure. They had to do this. For Israel …
Piper.
“Cowboy, are you there?”
This time it wasn’t Max calling his name. It was Piper. And the sound of her voice spiraling through the coms nearly sickened him. She didn’t belong here, not in the middle of a fight like this. He didn’t want her in his head. Didn’t want anyone in his head.
“Please … Col—Cowboy, talk to me.”
He yanked out the ear mic. Breathing hard, he tried to shake off the adrenaline that drenched his system. Shook his head. Ran a hand over his face and crown of his head.
“Hey, what’re you doing?” Scar stared at him. “It’s almost time.”
Colton rolled twice toward the far side of the roof, then hustled down the stairs that led to the alley. He stepped onto the dirty road.
Walked away.
“Why isn’t he answering?” Piper looked at her cousin, whose face bore the pallor of panic—chalky, a sheen over his brow.
“I don’t know. His mic could be out. Or the radios may be jammed.” Azzan growled. “His location—I can’t get the cameras to work.”
“Please, Lily, some water.”
Frustration scraped along her worry. “What …? Oh. Water?”
“Please.” Baba smiled.
Only when he said that did she hear the weariness in his voice. She gathered her frayed nerves and drew in a deep breath. Patted her father’s hand. She went to the cabinet and opened it. Empty. “Azzan, where can I get water?”
He glanced back quickly before returning his attention to the boards. “Uh … through the room with the couch. There’s …” He messed with more dials. “There’s another door. It leads to the kitchen. You will find more in the cabinets.”
Hands on her waist, she stared at the map of the city. Particularly at the location in the southwestern corner where a giant X marked Colton’s location. Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering the calls for his name?
What if something had happened to him—like getting shot? Or killed!
Someone would’ve reported that, nachon? Azzan had promised her that Colton and his spotter were in the safest location, situated the farthest from the team.
She pushed herself from the room, anxiety tightening every muscle she possessed. As she wandered past the darkened office, opened the other door that let into a semi-darkened room, she tried to steady her racing heart. Stale air swarmed her. Dust tickled her nose as she walked toward the white cabinets. Despite his reassurances, he had certainly lost his calm composure when Colton had killed one of the attackers that had hit the Mossad agents. A trickling sunbeam streaked through the darkness, glinting against her eyes as she crossed it.
She stopped, Azzan’s words ringing in her ears as she eyed the beam of light. If they so much as see the glint of sun off his scope, they will destroy that building, and with it, our hopes of stopping this attack.
Piper leaned against the cabinet door. A sob leapt into her throat. She covered her mouth and tried not to imagine Colton … dead. Like Bazak.
She pushed herself upright. “No,” she ground out. “Yeshua, protect him!”
Heart heavy, she searched the cabinets for more water. She hurried through the dusty storage units, wanting to get back, hoping for news of Colton. Finally, she discovered the stash and reached for several bottles.
Thud!
Bam! Oof!
Piper stilled. Her gaze shot to her left. A door sat ajar. Light flowed from the open area. The front foyer. She glanced back toward the command room. Who was out in the foyer?
She rushed to the door.
A body fell into view, nudging the door opened. Midas!
Raiyah’s brother must’ve overpowered him. She drew in a breath and held it. Piper leapt back, plastering herself against the wall.
A stream of Arabic flowed through the hall. Her mind reeled—he’d just given away their position! Suddenly, she was grateful for dear Mrs. Mukhtarian, a neighbor lady born in Israel but of Arabian descent, as she listened to him speaking … to someone. Who?
“I will take care of them. But you must not let him take that shot …. I don’t care how you do it; just do it!”
Piper bolted to the side and rushed back through the small office. Around the sofa. Into the command center. “Azzan! He’s loose. He’s—”
The door burst in.
Azzan came up out of his chair with a weapon in his hand.
Without hesitating, Hamzah rushed forward and dragged his sister backward by the hair, pulling her into his chokehold.
“Leave her!” Azzan shouted.
Hamzah jammed the gun against Raiyah’s head.
Baba hurried toward Piper. He prodded her into the office, but she struggled to stay where she could see the altercation.
“Please,” Raiyah said, her form so slight and petite against her brother’s tall muscular build. “Please, Hamzah. Why?”
Face pressed against hers, he sneered at Azzan. “Did you think, little sister, that nobody would find out what you did to our father?”
“Let her go,” Azzan ordered again as he inched closer. “She did nothing. It was me. I killed your father.”
Hamzah chuckled. Gripped his sister’s face. “Were you so blinded by her beauty that you could not see the little murderess for what she was?” He took a step back. “Did she not tell you? She poisoned our father.” His fingertips turned white as he squeezed her cheeks.
Tears streamed down Raiyah’s sweet face. “Please,” she whimpered. “You know what he did to me.” She clung to her brother’s arm, strangling her.
Azzan started forward.
But the man swung the gun toward him. “Stay.” He hauled Raiyah toward the door. “It is true he was not a good father, but he was a great general. And now, our people must know that his murder will not go unanswered.”
Raiyah cried. “Please, no!” She looked at Azzan. “Help me!”
Piper trembled, her hand cupped over her mouth.
Crack!
The sound of Hamzah’s weapon firing rammed through Piper. Slammed her eyes closed. She turned away just seconds after a spray of red hit the wall.
A flurry of noise erupted.
Arms encircled Piper, drawing her into the familiar warmth of her father’s arms. “Don’t look.” Baba held her firmly, rocking, praying.
A guttural cry—Azzan.
Several gunshots. A thud. Another one.
Finally, silence reigned.
Slowly, Piper lifted her face from his soggy shoulder. She glanced into the room. Her cousin walked back from the doorway, where Hamzah’s body lay still and crumpled. Azzan crouched next to Raiyah. Blood pooled out and reached toward the walls, as if seeking escape.
A sob escaped Piper. Tears streamed down her face. How … how could anyone kill their own sister? Especially such a sweet, gentle girl as Raiyah? Had she really poisoned her father? She’d all but admitted to it, which made Piper wonder what the general had done to his daughter.
Azzan pushed to his feet, staring down at the dead girl. Seconds dropped hard and deafening against the silence of his fury. He fisted a hand. Then he turned toward them. Stalked out of the room.
“Where are you going?” Piper choked out.
“To check on Midas. Then we need to clear out. They know where we are.”
“I heard him—” She gulped back a ball of grief. “I heard him say he would take care of us, but … Oh, Yeshua!”
Her father caught her shoulders. “What is it, Lily?”
“He told whoever he was talking to that he was to make sure he couldn’t take the shot.”
Azzan knelt over Midas, who groaned and peeled himself off the floor. “That means they know where the sniper is. It also means that our suspicions were accurate. They’re going for the nuke plant.”
He jogged back into the command center, and Piper followed. Grabbed a headset. “Bravo One, this is Eagle One.”
“Go ahead,” crackled over the speaker.
“Have you made contact with Cowboy?”
“Negative. No contact.”
“Listen,” Azzan said. “They are going after him. You have to get him word.”
A curse zipped through the speaker. “How soon?”
“Now!”
Another curse. “The children—they’re coming. We can’t leave!”
Her cousin banged his hand against the console. Gripped both sides and shook it fiercely.
Feeling hopeless and helpless as Azzan unloaded his frustration, Piper looked away—and her gaze hit the map on the wall. Tears over Raiyah’s death stilled on her cheeks; she wiped them as her mind harnessed a thought. A bold, terrifying thought.
“Is … is this where we are?” She pointed to a spot less than a mile from the large X. Colton.
Azzan nodded as his eyes darted over the monitors, the map, apparently searching for an idea. “We can’t be this close and fail.”
She was pretty certain she knew what was wrong with Colton. And unless someone went to him, they’d all be burned to a crisp within the hour. “I’ll go.”
CHAPTER 28
If he could hack out the parts of his brain that contained the memories, he would.
Colton squatted in the alley, head in his hands. “I can’t do this anymore, God …. I just can’t.” Back against the plaster wall, he stared up at the wakening sky. Clouds tumbled and rolled over one another. Just like the memories that churned in his mind.
Anger welled up within him, but at the same time, he heard the wizened voice of Yitshak Rosenblum quell the storm. “Yeshua seeks to use you for His purposes. Are you a man that you would dictate to God how He would accomplish His purposes?”
He slumped to his knees. Buried his face in his hands. Meredith … Emelie … his father. What if God needed to use McKenna? Or his mom? Or Piper?
The thought plunked against his heart and knocked him back. He dropped against the hard earth. Piper.
He struggled to his feet, leaned against the wall, and waited to regain his equilibrium. His head—Merciful God!—his head hurt. Doubled, he clutched his knees and clenched his eyes shut. He counted. One … two … three …
Drawing in a deep breath, he straightened.
A ghoul wavered at the end of the alley. Dark and ominous.
Colton’s heart shifted. He reached for … his weapon. He’d left it on the roof. After a quick glance up, he realized his mistake—dropping on the wrong side of the building. No ladder. No way back up.
He shot a glance at the person.
Gone.
Colton spun, searching his surroundings. And only in the humming chaos of his mind did he recognize that when he’d seen that ghoul, the lighting, the very buildings were different. A flashback. Borneo. His mind had flipped back to the battle that had killed his spotter.
He turned around, rammed his fist into the wall. Pain spiked his hand. Darted past his wrist. Up past his elbow and into his shoulder. He crumbled against the wall. Cried out. “Why … why can’t I stay. In. The. Present?” He kept his voice low, his words ground out.
He flung himself around, threw himself back against the building. Dropped to his knees. He felt beaten. Defeated. Nothing left of him to fight for. He’d lost his ability to function under stress. Lost his father. After this mission, after walking away from the team …
The team.
Max.
Griffin.
Canyon.
Marshall.
Slowly, their faces swam before him. Max with his incredible intensity that left Colton exhausted just watching the guy. Griffin with his absolute loyalty and dedication to the team and mission. The impenetrable barriers that kept Canyon focused but quiet—so steadfast. And then the Kid, with the mouth too big for his head, but his indomitable courage and spirit.
Colton couldn’t leave them.
They’re depending on me.
The entire nation of Israel was depending on him.
But he couldn’t … They didn’t understand what it took for him to stay in one piece, mentally. He wanted to be there for them. More than anything. But there wasn’t enough left of him anymore. He was empty.
“You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you. “
The verse seemed to sail on the cool morning breeze, teasing his face with a soft fragrance Colton could not identify. Yet the words tormented him. “Don’t You get it?” he cried out to God. “My mind is not steadfast. I have no peace!” He gripped his temples and growled. “Oh God, please—I want it to be! More than anything. Please, merciful God Almighty!”
A shout whipped him around.
Another shout.
His gaze rose to the roof. Scar!
God… oh God, help me.
Another torment seized him—the thought of abandoning his friends, being the cause of their deaths because things got a little too difficult.
He smeared the tears away. Dragged himself to his feet. Stared down into the alley that brightened with each minute as the sun rose. Weary, ragged. Colton closed his eyes. “God … give me strength … the strength to do this.”
He could deal with the terrors, the flashbacks.
He couldn’t deal with failing the team, himself, God. And in that split second, he saw the line he’d drawn in the sand between him and God—the one that said if God didn’t do things on his terms, Colton was out of the game.
“Forgive me, God.”
“The Lord gives strength to his people; the Lord blesses his people with peace. “
And for a second, an eerily silent second, he stood there, feeling no different, yet insanely different. He pivoted. Scanned the roofline as he scurried around the side of the building. He scaled the wall, using the windows.
He scrabbled over the gritty rooftop as a beam of sunlight struck him. Ducking his head, he low-crawled up to his rifle.
“Where the—never mind. ‘Bout time you came back.” Blood oozed from Scar’s upper arm, but the guy was in the game, working, watching their site.
“Sitrep?”
“They were shooting, but it stopped.”
“Means they’re moving in on us.” Colton peered through the scope. “Time’s short.”
“You’re a genius.”
The scathing comment rolled off Colton’s back, knowing the guy was just letting off steam. Colton deserved the sarcasm, and more. “Location is clear.” As he nudged the scope around, a blur snagged him. He jerked back. “Wait.” He dropped the distance. Scanned the road. His instincts blazed. There. A half-mile down sat a van on the side of the road. A man emerged from the back with something cradled in his arms.
This … looks bad.
“RPG! Incoming, eleven o’clock!” Scar shouted.
No sooner had Scar’s declaration sounded than Colton noticed a second man walking away from the van, a red pack situated between the man’s shoulders. “Target acquired.” “Dude! An RPG!”
“Eyes on the target.” They couldn’t afford to run. They couldn’t leave. This was it. Had to take out the seventh messenger. He sighted the target. “Peace … whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you.” Colton harnessed his mind, his heart rate. He could do it.
His mind warred with the
actions as the RPG left a frightening trail of smoke, leaving the launcher.
Boom!
Colton’s teeth rattled. Vibrations needled his body.
Crack!
Plaster trembled beneath his forearms, numbing his ribs.
A scream behind him.
He jerked—Scar! In the split second that Colton realized his spotter had scrambled away, Colton lunged to catch the man.
The roof pitched. Fell out from under them.
Head first, Colton dropped.
“No, you can’t go!”
Piper started for the door, only to be jerked around—right into Azzan’s arms. “Release me!”
His hands tightened around her arms. “Listen to me!”
“No, I will not. I am going out there to find Colton. I know what’s wrong. I can help him.”
“Cousin, there are IRG out there, hunting him down—they know where he is. If you go out there, you’re as good as dead.”
Piper yanked free of his hold, her heart pounding. “Then let me die out there.” She took a step back. “I have to try. He needs help. I can’t leave him out there. He doesn’t know the city, and …” Tears, large and fat, blurred her vision. She slumped, the words she’d let die on her lips had frozen her. What if he’d lost his mind again? What if he was stuck in another time, lost in another battle, and couldn’t find his way out?
“It’s too dangerous, Lily.”
“I’ll take her.” Midas appeared beside her. “He’s part of my team. I’m not going to sit by while he’s out there.”
Azzan frowned. Grunted. “No, you must stay—”
“Sorry, dude, but I don’t report to you.”
“Listen to me!” Azzan’s eyes flamed. “Stay with my dod. I will go with her. You don’t know the city, you can’t speak the language. If they come up on you, you are as good as dead.”
Piper stared at her cousin, stunned. “You? You’ll go with me?”
“I don’t know ….” Midas said.
Azzan smirked. “You’re trying to decide if you can trust me.” He rushed to a cabinet and pulled out two jackets and radios. “Don’t waste your time. You can’t.” He tossed a coat to Piper. “My only loyalty is to the Mossad.” Turned to Midas and handed him an orange radio. “Channel 5.”