by Low, Gennita
Lucas sighed. “Yeah, well. Let’s just say the government here doesn’t monitor as closely as we would like.” He stood up. “We have to find the tunnel out of this cave and get to one that’s connected to the main ones your guide and all the others know about. If we’re lucky and Hawk sent out choppers and saw your message, they’d be heading there and looking for us.”
“All right. So, how do we look for this tunnel?” She stared around her dubiously. “It looks impossible.”
“Let’s start by checking out the sunlight shafts. It’s got to be close where they can have air. Someone or some ones come by here often enough to maintain these weapons so let’s look for any piles of cleaning cloths and bottles, that sort of thing.”
“How about a desk?” Kit asked, pointing to a far off corner. “They might need one to use for cleaning. I bet there will be lots of oils and cleaners near there, if not on it.”
He tweaked her hair. “Very good, Watson.”
She grinned. “Pfft. I’m Holmes, you’re Watson,” she declared.
She was right. As they got closer, their light revealed a working space, with a shelf to the right, stacked with bottles and pails. She quickly took several photos while Lucas checked everything out.
“I’m hoping there is an entry near here. If they’re using tunnels like the one we were in, logically, they would enter from wherever, light this lamp hanging here on the wall so they could see, wait, I feel some kind of breeze…voila!” He pushed aside a crate, revealing a small entry way big enough to crawl through.
Kit crouched down and felt the air coming from the hole. “Shall we crawl through and—”
A crack sounded behind them. She turned and caught a quick glimpse of shadows and reflection of metal from their flashlights before Lucas pushed her out of the way. A single gunshot exploded, its echo reverberating over and over. She laid on the floor in shock for an instant, then rolled away, looking for a place to hide.
Lucas! Where was Lucas? Was he shot?
She pulled out her gun. She heard a familiar grunt to her right and turned her head, searching for his silhouette. The shafts of sunlight looked like little strobes of dust as shadowy figures fought. Somehow Lucas had managed to run to the other end of the small cavern, disarm one of their assailants and was now engaging in hand-to-hand combat with him on the floor. The other man lifted his big weapon and butted the side of Lucas’ head with it. She had no time to scream a warning. Without thinking, she aimed and fired. Dropping his firearm, Lucas’ attacker yelled in pain, then fell over.
She clapped a hand over her mouth at what she’d done. The man was in the shadows, rolling around in pain. She shivered and stared at her hand holding her weapon. She’d fired one in self-defense before, when she’d surprised a burglar at her apartment in college. At that time, she was being attacked and she’d gone for her firearm after being chased into her bedroom. The burglar had run off at her first shot and was subsequently caught by the neighbors. This was different and it was frightening how she’d just shot a man as a target.
She took a deep breath. Stay calm. It wasn’t the time to be hysterical about it. Her father had told her when he’d taught her how to shoot—“you’re in or you’re out when you use this. Don’t hesitate.” She stood up and charged towards Lucas, who was still wrestling on the floor. He was at the bottom, after falling over from the hit in the head. She kicked away the offending machine gun lying nearby.
“Hoo-yahhh!” She yelled and launched on top of the enemy pounding on her man.
She pulled at the man’s hair and punched him in the throat. Scratched. Gouged. He was howling and turning around to grab her fists.
Someone pulled her off from behind. She struggled valiantly but didn’t have the strength. The person grabbed her arms and pulled them back. She yelped in pain and twisted back and forth, trying to free herself.
Lucas must have heard her because he let out a roar of anger and somehow stood up, with his attacker still attached on him, and half-leapt-half-stumbled onto her assailant. Then, yet another pair of arms grabbed her. Only then was she aware of many voices surrounding them. How many of them were there? She’d only seen two when Lucas was fighting.
She watched Lucas tackle one man and another jumped in from behind. Punches flew. Lucas threw one body across the room. She screamed his name and struggled as yet another shadowy figure appeared and another, till she couldn’t see him under so many bodies.
Someone yelled something out in Arabic. Kit blinked from the sudden light. There were men everywhere, some of whom were holding lanterns. Except for a howling man still rolling on the floor and another being held at gun point, these were in military uniform. To her surprise, a woman appeared, in camouflage shirt and pants. She studied Kit for a second then turned toward the men on the floor.
“Five of you against one man?” She asked, in perfect English. “We must be getting soft.”
In the brighter light, Kit could only see Lucas’ leg and she anxiously waited as the male bodies on top moved out of the way, leaving one man pointing a weapon straight at Lucas. She whimpered at the sight of blood on his face but dared not move or say anything, in case it’d set him off.
He appeared calm, though. He slowly turned his head.
“Kit.” His voice came out in a hoarse growl.
“Here. I’m okay,” she hastily assured him.
The woman stepped forward. “It’s okay, soldier, I’m Lieutenant Zeravich from the 210th Division. I apologize to have mistaken you as the enemies. We’re here to transport you.” She turned to her men. “Take the two prisoners out of here.”
Kit frowned as the men obeyed her orders. Although all of them were in fatigues, Arab head gear covered much of their faces. She was quite sure not all of them were Americans. After putting hoods over the two who had attacked them first, they tossed the injured man she’d shot—she breathed a sigh of relief he was alive—over one man’s shoulder and led the other out, using the trail she and Lucas earlier had been on. While that was happening, someone else searched Lucas for weapons, pulling out his pockets and patting down his pants. That didn’t seem friendly protocol either.
After a minute of silence, Lucas confirmed her suspicions. “There isn’t a fucking 210th Division. Who are you?” he asked, still lying on the ground.
“Again, I apologize,” the woman said. “When I saw you were Americans, I needed to give our prisoners the impression we’re on the same side. A woman in charge ought to convince them, don’t you think?”
Her smile had a glimmer of amusement.
“I repeat, who the hell are you?” Lucas asked.
“Not your business, soldier. Let’s just say for now we’re the owners of these weapons.”
Kit hoped they weren’t going to search her too. She didn’t want to lose her camera and important things. The man holding her prisoner seemed satisfied with just twisting her arms behind her back, though.
“Lieutenant, I found this card on him. Read the name on it.” One of the rough-looking men who had been searching Lucas’ pockets held up a scrap of paper.
The woman took it from him. After a moment, she said, “Why am I not surprised?” She turned towards one of the waiting men. “Tell him he can come in.”
The underling went off to one side and Kit watched him disappear behind what looked like a protruding piece of rock. How many tunnels were there in this place?
“Except for the bump on his head, he is not injured, Lieutenant,” the searcher said.
“Let him sit up. I suggest you obey orders, soldier. No sudden lunges. Remember, we also have your woman friend here as a prisoner.” The Lieutenant turned at the sound of someone re-entering the cavern from the rocky protrusion. Kit fancied she heard a thread of anger in her voice as she greeted the man who appeared. “Excellency, I believe this man has your card, so perhaps you know him.”
Kit looked up and her eyes widened. Whoever the new guy was, she could tell he was in charge. He was tall, like Lucas
, with fierce-looking dark eyes, assessing the situation with one sweeping glance. A machine gun slung carelessly over one shoulder. And was that…yikes…a sword? A big-ass shiny out-of-medieval-times sword with a curved blade. In the muted lighting from the lanterns, he looked imposing and dangerous.
A small smile appeared on his lips when he saw Lucas on the floor. The light caught the gleam of an earring as he swung his gaze toward her. She swallowed, meeting his eyes. Then again wished she had her camera handy. It would so cool to have his photo on her tablet wallpaper.
“I know Lucas Branson here. Who are you?” He asked, his American accent making her blink in surprise.
“Kit,” she replied. Did Lucas really know him? “Who are you?”
His smile widened. “An American woman in a Pakistani dress running around in a cave with a weapon. I was watching you on the camera. You should be a GEM operative.” He nodded to the man behind her. “Release her.”
“A what?” Kit asked.
He didn’t answer her. Instead, turning to Lucas, who was still watching him, he said, “Why are you here, Branson, and where is your team? I notice you’re not on your feet. May I ask if your wound is bothering you?”
Kit inhaled. Lucas was indeed holding his side again. How badly was that cut he said he had? She frowned. A new worry gnawed at her. Had he been lying and it wasn’t food poisoning that was making him sick like that?
*
Lucas shook his head. This whole damn day had been like riding on a rollercoaster. He was all for action, but everything usually made sense, especially about which group belonged to which side. And now, here was the same fucking dude from last night. Then he was just some middle-man with connections. Now, he was all dressed up like he was some warlord with his own tribe. What the hell?
He examined him up and down. He looked cleaned-up and certainly better groomed than his own current self. AK-47 over one shoulder. Was that a freaking broad sword? Did people even use that anymore? Rounds of ammo criss-crossed his chest. There were knives sheathed in his belt and the sides of his boots. What, did the dude think he was fucking Rambo?
He was beyond pissed-off at the moment. He couldn’t get over how weak he was. Yesterday, he would have handled a dozen of these assholes without hesitation. Right now, he was out of breath and his side was burning a hole into his stomach. He refused to be sick in front of these guys, whoever they were.
“Give me the 411 on what’s happening, Shahrukh. I’m not talking until I know who these fu…people are,” he demanded.
“I don’t think you’re in the position to be asking questions, soldier!” the woman who had clued him in on everything being a ruse told him sharply.
“He’s a SEAL, Lieutenant Zerya. They prefer to be called sailor,” Shahrukh corrected mildly. “Branson, they’re my people. You’re in the middle of an operation I’m running.”
“Weapons? In insurgent-infested caves? Your story stinks.”
“Does it matter? All I need is to call Hawk to confirm. But first, you have to tell me why you’re here.”
Lucas shook his head again. No way was he going to be specific. “Long story, but it has to do with the girl at that wedding thing we…attended. Do you remember?”
Shahrukh cocked his head, a frown forming. “Minah. Yes.”
“You know Minah?” Kit asked, leaning forward eagerly. “Do you know how to find her? She is—”
“A friend,” Lucas interrupted. “We’re trying to get hold of her. But first, we must contact Hawk and Jazz. We need to tell them our location.”
“No need,” Shahrukh said, pressing a finger in his ear, listening. Lucas realized he must be wearing a wire. “Ah. Choppers very close by. Lieutenant Zeravich, please leave me four men and follow my earlier orders. Lucas, you and Miss…Kit can come with me. It seems they somehow have tracked you down. How?”
“Kit sent them a message,” Lucas said. “We found the back way instead of the front entrance and were making our way there when we found your little cache here. What do you intend to do with it? Because I’ll be reporting it to my commander.”
The snooty woman, Lieutenant Zeravich, made a rude noise and said something in a language Lucas didn’t recognize. Shahrukh replied likewise. The woman answered and turned her back on him rudely. Shahrukh just nodded to the men and they started heading toward the different piles on the floor.
Lucas tried to stand up and barely made it without stumbling back on his knee. “You better have a good explanation where you’re taking them, Shahrukh,” he warned.
Kit came running over. He hoped she wouldn’t bring up the fact that he wasn’t one hundred percent, although he had a feeling the other man had his suspicions.
“I’m okay,” he assured her.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. She turned to Shahrukh. “Excuse me, did you say you know Minah? And that people are here to rescue us?” She glanced at Lucas again. “I really, really need to get hold of Minah. Please.”
“I know,” Shahrukh said. His voice was gentle. “I’ll get to her soon, I hope.”
Lucas looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s just get your commander’s attention first, shall we? There isn’t time to lose.” He started toward the bigger opening, the one with rock protrusion. “Coming, or not?”
“Yeah,” Lucas replied.
What choice did he have? He needed to get to Hawk or Jazz, but he was certain by the time he conveyed to them about the weapons in this particular cavern, they would be gone. He glanced back at the men efficiently picking them up. There was a shitload of them. If he hurried, maybe his team could stop them. He took a step. And another. Fucking hell. His legs felt like he had 100lb weights tied to his ankles.
He looked down at Kit. Those pretty blue eyes showed so much worry, he wanted to kiss her and tell her he was okay. Instead, he just smiled and gave her a thumbs up. “No cadences, please,” he teased, hoping his smile didn’t look like a grimace as pain gnawed one side of him.
He was a SEAL. He wasn’t going to show he was in trouble. Dig in. Walk straight. Deep breath. Power on. He’d noticed if he shouted and let adrenalin take over, the nausea and pain would become worse. If he kept his head straight, he should be A-OK until he was back at base.
“So I’m gathering the yarn was your idea of not getting lost?”
“Yes. But I was getting worried, with so many tunnels, whether I’d have enough!”
“Then I arrived just in time.”
“Yeah! Those two other men…I shot one of them because he hit Lucas in the head. What’s your name again? And what exactly do you do?”
“You’re a good shot. I’m just a friend of Lucas and his team, that’s all.”
“You must give an interview to me and my team.”
“And what exactly do you do, Kit?”
Kit and Shahrukh seemed to be getting along like a house on fire. Lucas didn’t like it at all. Not one bit.
As they continued, he could hear the thump-thump-thump outside. Ahead, a small crack of light. He concentrated on it, watching it getting bigger and bigger as he struggled to walk without stumbling. His commander, Hawk McMillan, was already off the chopper heading towards the mouth of the cave when they slipped out of the cool darkness. Lucas looked around. Thank God. Familiar faces.
Lucas snapped a salute. Hawk returned one and put a hand up to halt the situation report he’d formed.
“One moment, Cumber,” he said, then turned to Shahrukh. “You’re damn quick. T contacted me while I was in the air regarding your situation and your current operation. Tell me you didn’t know about these weapons beforehand before I give you my help.”
Lucas blinked. Damn, he didn’t even have to tell anything and those COS commandos and GEM operatives had already taken over.
“I didn’t know about these weapons,” Shahrukh said.
Hawk’s gaze was laser-direct and a bit skeptical. “You have thirty minutes, tops, before the authorities of either side of these
borders reach here.”
“We have enough to convince you and your counterparts to buy me time to set things up.” Shahrukh gazed up the mountain trail. “You have to release the weapons to me for now.”
“His men are already removing them, Sir!” Lucas volunteered the information.
“Shahrukh, it’s against protocol to move weapons around and then recollect them at another checkpoint,” Hawk said. “Those weapons are important to show how much the insurgents around here are preparing for battle.”
“I’m sure Mrs. Zeringue and Miss Hutchens would disagree about the amount of importance weighed against a girl’s life,” Shahrukh said calmly. “It is a girl’s life we’re trying to save, is it not? And in the end, you’ll get your weapons, with a little fire power, to show the other side you mean business. If we succeed, then you’ll have weapons and a recorded battle to show for it. What good is a find if you’re without a group to which to point a finger in your many reports?”
Lucas noted Shahrukh’s demeanor never changed through his argument. He sounded like a logic professor, giving the details to reach a projected conclusion. The dude was a great strategist but how good was he in a real war, with many variations to a scenario? He was sure his commander was considering all the possibilities of things going wrong now as he too glanced up the mountainside.
“And what are we going to do for distraction?” He asked.
“You’ll need to move your copters toward the target. I’ll call and let you know where and when. I have the advantage of being on horseback and getting to the area to…set things up. We also have two men, one injured. You may want to keep them for questioning, although they’ll tell you they didn’t have any knowledge of the weapons. But they’re local Taliban fighters and it’d be a good idea to keep them behind bars for a while. Your people here,” Shahrukh continued, pointing at Lucas and Kit, with a quick smile at her, “surprised them. Kit shot at one of them.”
Hawk turned to Kit. “My co-commander talked to your media crew. Sean Cortez is burning a hole through the floor back on base. I’m not sure whether it’s out of worry for you or because I forbade him to come along on our Chinook.” His flash of amusement suggested the latter. He added, “Jazz found your van. When he searched around it, he found newspaper articles about a certain bin Yakob. We have quite a number of questions for Mr. Cortez.”