Renegade: Special Tactical Units Devision (STUD) Book 3

by Sandra Marton

  No plants.

  No grasses.

  Just one motherfucking piece of stone.

  Dec slowed the horse, tilted back his head and looked up.

  “Fuck,” he whispered.

  Fuck, indeed.

  He could see only one way up and it was little more than a series of chancy handholds and footholds.

  He clucked to the horse and they rode slowly along the base of the mountain for a little while—a little while was all they had to spare—before returning to where they’d started. What he’d seen at first, that series of miniscule fissures leading up the mountain, was it.

  Difficult, but yeah, he could manage. He’d had lots of climbing training and experience.

  But that didn’t matter.

  Annie couldn’t get up this thing. Yes, she was tough and she learned fast. He could use paracord to string them together, give her a five-minute lesson in how to place her hands and feet, and maybe, maybe she could do it, but in the condition she was in?

  Never.

  The horse pawed at the ground. Dec patted the animal’s neck to calm it.

  The horse was uneasy. Did it sense something? Hear something? Animals sometimes picked up signs and signals humans didn’t.

  So what now? How the fuck were they going to cross this mountain?

  Some kind of paracord sling to hoist Annie up? Forget it. He had no way to anchor a sling. Besides, slings had a nasty tendency to spin and bump and bang.

  Running the risk of letting Annie slam into this wall of stone was out of the question.

  A fireman’s carry? A military lift? Also no good. No matter how careful he was, if he slung Annie over his shoulder his center of gravity would be all wrong. He’d be fighting to keep the two of them from tumbling backwards into space and it would be a fight he—and she—would lose.

  Dec took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. He had to calm down, get centered. Think.

  Think.

  “Annie?”

  She stirred in his arms. “Declan,” she whispered.

  Carefully, holding her close, he slid to the ground and trotted to the nearest boulder. He sat her down so that she was leaning against the boulder, went back to the horse and took his pack from where he’d hung it on the saddle.

  “Sweetheart? How do you feel?”

  She made a face. “Won’erful.”

  He forced a smile as he got out the water bag.

  “Glad to hear it. Sit up a little. That’s it. I want you to try and drink some water.”

  “I’ll prob’ly throw up.”

  “Just water, Annie. No pills. Nothing but water.” He opened the bag and brought it to her mouth. “Try a sip. Slowly. No rush.”

  She drank. A few drops only. He held his breath, damn near willing the water to stay down…

  It didn’t. It spewed straight out of her mouth.

  She made a little sound of distress. “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He took a dirty shirt from his pack, soaked it with water and gently applied it to her hot face.

  “Mmm. Feels good.”

  “Yeah. I’m glad. Annie? Look at me.”

  She lifted her head and he patted her lips with the wet shirt. Her tongue came out; she licked at the drops. Yes! Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner?

  He was a big proponent of keeping hydrated. The need for fluids had been drummed into him in the SEALs as well as in STUD; time in the field had only reinforced the conviction that one of the worst enemies you could face was dehydration.

  “A little more,” he said, dabbing her lips with the wet shirt again.

  “Nice,” she whispered.

  His belly clenched.

  She looked like hell. The glassy eyes. The flushed skin. Even the way she was breathing. She was sick. Very sick.

  The names of diseases common to this part of the world flashed through his head. Typhoid. Paratyphoid. MERS, short for Middle Eastern Respiratory Syndrome. Who knew what she might have picked up? Her kidnappers had kept her cuffed in that fucking filthy shed…

  He had to get her home, fast. And, goddammit, he…

  His satphone buzzed. Dec scrambled through his gear, pulled out the phone, pushed a button, barked his name.

  “Sanchez.”

  “Sanchez. This is Rescue Base.”

  Dec frowned. He didn’t recognize the voice.

  “This is Colonel John Stuart. Do you recognize the name, Sanchez?”

  Hell, yes, he recognized the name. Stuart had a reputation that went back to Operation Desert Storm. Now he served as liaison between Washington and a top secret committee with a bunch of letters for a name. Depending on who you listened to, he was either a tough, hard-nosed commander or a politically astute ass-kisser.

  “Yessir, Colonel. I recognize it.”

  “Satellite surveillance tells us you’re one climb and one descent from your objective. Correct?”

  Dec nodded. The mountain, and then the coastal plain.

  “Yessir. Correct.”

  “We need you to speed things up, son. Intel reports that your primary opponent is maybe thirty minutes from your location.”

  Dec nodded again. Amjad. The two men and the boy they’d passed hours before must have fingered them.

  He looked at Annie. She was leaning back against the boulder. Her eyes were closed.

  He rose and moved a few feet away. A gust of wind slapped at him; he looked up at the sky. Great. Amjad and the weather were both coming straight at them.

  “Sanchez. Do you copy?”

  “Copy, sir. But I have a problem.”

  “You sure as shit do, son. Didn’t you understand me? They’re closing in on you.”

  “No horses this time, I bet.”

  “Horses? Ah. I understand. No. No horses. Those bozos were locals, wanting to get in on the fun. You’re facing maybe thirty, forty men, several vehicles—a few are American trucks, courtesy of some goddamn misguided committee’s dumb-ass foreign aid package five or six years ago.”

  “Yessir.”

  “Well, get your shit together and move. Your opponent won’t follow once you’re on the other side of that mountain. You’ll be in a sovereign state that’s friendly to us when Washington tells them to be friendly. Your opponent doesn’t have that kind of arrangement. He can’t afford to screw with them.”

  Dec took a deep breath. “Sir. With all due respect, I can’t do what you’re asking.”

  Stuart’s voice turned to ice. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

  “This thing ahead of us is one huge motherfucking chunk of rock. Begging your pardon, Colonel, but that’s what it is. What isn’t smooth as a baby’s ass is basically nothing but a badly designed climbing wall.”

  “So? You have hands and feet, Sanchez. Use them.”

  “Not possible. Annie—the princess is sick, sir.”

  “How sick? Is she injured?”

  “Not injured, no. She’s running a high fever and she can’t keep anything down.”

  “Crap!”

  “Yessir.”

  “She can’t get up that rock? Even with you helping her?”

  “She can’t even stay on her feet, Colonel.” Dec lowered his voice. “She’s sick. Very sick. She’s dehydrating. If I don’t get her out of here soon…”

  “Crap,” Stuart said again. “She dies, we’ve got the mother of all cluster fucks on top of a fucking international incident.”

  Dec clenched his fist. An international incident? Was that what the possible death of the woman he loved meant to this prick?

  “We need to move fast, sir,” Dec said, forcing the sir through his teeth. “Send in a couple of birds. One to take Annie—the princess—to safety, the other to lay down covering fire in case Amjad gets here while she’s still being extracted.”

  “Thank you for the advice, Lieutenant.”

  The rebuke was clipped and cold. Dec bit his lip. It was stupid to antagonize this jerk and he knew it. So he waite
d, saying nothing until Stuart spoke again.

  “Okay. Two birds to your location. It’s a fucking risk, but I don’t see any choice. With luck, ETA about five minutes before Amjad reaches you.”

  “Sir. One last thing.” Dec cleared his throat. “The princess must not be returned to Qaram. Or taken to Tharsalonia. Once she’s stable, fly her to the States. Her situation is…”

  “Her situation,” Stuart said, even more coldly, “is none of your fucking concern, Lieutenant.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Colonel! Do the right thing!”

  “You will report to me on your return to base, Sanchez.”

  Dec didn’t answer. Whatever he said next might land him a court martial. What good would he be to Annie then?

  “Did you hear me, Lieutenant? You will report to me on your return.”

  Dec took a breath. “Yessir.”

  “Not that you’re entitled to an explanation, Lieutenant, but I have spent my entire life doing the right thing. I sure as shit don’t have to be lectured on it by you!”

  The line went dead.

  Fuck. Fuck! Dec slammed down the satphone.

  Do the right thing. Black had used the same words. Do the right thing was the unofficial motto of the Units. Do it for God, for country, for the guy fighting beside you. Do it because you believe in honor and duty and commitment.

  Who knew what doing the right thing meant to a mired-in-DC-manure colonel?

  Yeah, well, to hell with the colonel.

  Dec would be on the Black Hawk with Annie. He’d be with her when it landed on the deck of the Harry S. Truman, the super-carrier stationed in the Gulf. He’d be with her when the docs on board checked her over, treated her, did whatever had to be done. He’d be with her during her return to the States, and he wouldn’t need the permission of any candy-ass colonel to make sure everybody involved did the fucking right thing.

  His mission had been to find Annie and get her to safety, and that mission wouldn’t end until he brought her to American soil.

  Stuart had said the helicopters would arrive only a few minutes before the terrorists. Dec had to assume they wouldn’t. Assuming the worst was always the safest bet.

  A gust of wind sent a rush of dust and coarse sand slapping at his face. Visibility was getting poor. That would make it tough for the helicopters, but it might help him. And, dammit, he was running out of time.

  A plan. He needed a fucking plan…

  The first thing was to check his weapons. The HK MP7. The Glock. The SOG TAK knife. Ammo. Yeah, he still had plenty. The HK MP7 could fire 40 rounds without reloading.

  Perfect.

  The second thing was to move Annie. But where? There, to that cluster of boulders. Each was the size of a big car. The boulders would hide her as well as provide protection.

  He would take up a position behind a huge chunk of rock ten, twelve meters away where he could see her, keep her covered, but where he wouldn’t be close enough for any enemy fire he took to endanger her.

  The horse whinnied.

  Hell. The animal would be an easy target. Dec undid the saddle, the bridle, tossed everything aside. What had Annie called him?

  “Thanks for your help, Big Boy,” Dec said softly. Then he slapped the animal on the rump. “Hooyah,” he yelled, and the horse took off.

  Dec stiffened.

  What was that? The wind made it difficult to hear, but… Engines. That was what he heard. Vehicles were coming in their direction.

  So much for having thirty minutes.

  Dec ran to Annie and scooped her into his arms.

  “Declan?”

  “Yes, honey.”

  She buried her face against his throat. Her face, her body were hot. His heart thundered. Even her breath felt hot.

  Quickly, he carried her to the boulders and sat her behind them.

  “Annie. You’re going to stay right here. No matter what you hear, what you see, you’re not to leave this place. You hear that?”

  Tears glittered in her eyes. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  He crouched down and clasped her hands. “For what? There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

  “So much trouble…”

  “Trouble? You? You’ve never been trouble, Anoushka. Never.”

  “Are they coming?”

  He wanted to lie. No, he’d say, they’re not. We’re just going to wait here for our ride home.

  Instead, he let go of her hands and cupped her face. “Yes,” he said bluntly. “But they’re not going to get you.”

  “Who is it? Which of them is coming for us?”

  Dec hesitated. “Amjad.”

  A tremor went through her. “He’ll kill you,” she whispered.

  “Kill me?” He forced a laugh. “Hell, sweetheart, tougher bastards than a guy with a lice-infested beard have tried to kill me. And I’m still here.”

  “I love you, Declan. I love you, love you, love—”

  He kissed her with a hunger that was soul-deep. How could he have ever thought she’d willingly left him? He should have searched for her even it meant going to the ends of the universe.

  “We’re going to get through this, honey. We have a lifetime to spend together. I won’t let anybody take that from us.”

  “I know you’ll do everything you can to save us.” She drew an unsteady breath. “But if—if things should go wrong….”

  She was right. Things could go wrong. It would be stupid not to acknowledge that.

  Dec took his Glock from its holster and put on the ground next to her.

  “Remember,” he said, looking straight into her eyes. “Use both hands. Pull hard, then fire.”

  Annie was crying. “I know.”

  “Don’t use the gun except to defend yourself.” He paused, knowing his next words would be the most difficult he’d ever spoken. “And only, only if you know there’s no choice left, if I’m down and you’re absolutely certain that everything is lost…”

  His heart rose into his throat. There was no mistaking the throaty growl of Amjad’s oncoming vehicles.

  “Annie. It’s time. Get down. Stay down. And never forget that I love you.”

  Annie flung herself into his arms for one last kiss. It tasted of dreams and despair, of hope and sorrow, of a love that would last through eternity.

  Then Dec scrambled to his feet, ran to the rock that was going to be his line of defense and threw himself down behind it.

  The wind was blowing hard. The air was thick with dust, but Amjad’s raiding party was now close enough so Dec could count the oncoming vehicles. Two trucks. Three. Jesus. Six altogether, strung out in a line and racing towards him and Annie and the mountain.

  Nothing subtle in their approach either. The terrorists couldn’t have spotted him yet, but they knew he was here and they were making the most of showing him that he was outnumbered and outgunned.

  Dec checked his rifle. He was a good shot. Forget that. He was one hell of a shot. He’d hold his fire until the last second, then take out those fucking headlights. Then the windshields. With luck, he’d blow up the drivers…

  Whomp-whomp-whomp.

  He looked up. Two Black Hawks, coming in fast.

  Dec grinned. The cavalry to the rescue. He could feel his adrenaline pumping.

  Everything was happening at once. It was either going to be a massive fuckup or a massive win—and only someone who’d never been a SEAL or a STUD would dare think it might be anything but a win.

  The vehicles were getting closer. Closer. Suddenly, one veered to the right. Towards where he had hidden Annie.

  The words from an old childhood game danced in his head.

  Ready or not, here I come.

  Dec rose up on his knees, rested his HK MP7 on top of the rock, and fired.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Black Hawks emerged like Martian war machines from the dust-filled sky.

  “Fuck,” Chay Olivieri shouted. “Amjad beat us to it.”

  “Hold your fire,” Nic
k Romano yelled. “Sanchez and Annie are down there somewhere. We’ve got to identify them before—”

  Aidan Maguire pounded on Nick’s shoulder. “Got ’em,” he said. “Dec’s at one o’clock. Annie’s at ten.”

  “Where?” Danny Sullivan said. “I see Dec, but I don’t—”

  “She’s in among those big rocks,” Alex Spanos said. “See her?”

  Danny peered out the open door. Then he gave Alex a thumb’s up.

  “Rescue Two,” he said into his mike. “We have eyes on them both. Our man at one o’clock. The lady at ten. Please confirm.”

  “Confirmed, Rescue One. Warrior at one, lady at ten. Going in for the lady.”

  Alex Spanos laughed. “Sounds like a fucking scene from King Arthur.”

  “Who?” said Nick, but he grinned when he said it.

  Chay tapped the pilot on the shoulder. “Take us down,” he said, mirroring the words with a lowering of his hand.

  The pilot nodded and Rescue One began dropping. Lower. Lower. Lower…

  Lines fell from the helicopter and the five STUD operatives rappelled to the ground while the remaining men on board provided covering fire.

  Dec saw them coming, but kept his rifle aimed at the trucks.

  Pow Pow Pow Pow.

  Two trucks went up in flames. Insurgents in one of the trucks flung open the doors.

  Dec took them out.

  Yes, the timing still sucked, but the playing field was evening up. His guys from STUD One were sprinting towards him, firing as they ran, taking out the enemy and drawing attention from the rescue bird to themselves.

  Whoosh!

  Another truck went up in a ball of flame. A couple of men stumbled out of the back, shooting as they ran. Dec fired and took them both down.

  Bursts of fire sent two more vehicles spinning. Men spilled from them. Dec, the gunship and the STUD operatives took them out with cold efficiency.

  Dec flashed a look to where he’d left Annie. Rescue Two hovered above the boulders and a soldier hanging onto a hoist was dropping from the bird.

  Dec got to his feet and sprinted towards the boulders. Something hot sizzled past his ear.