The Woman Left Behind

by Linda Howard

  At the proper altitude she deployed her chute, so prepared now for the violent jerk upward and the straps cutting into her legs that she barely noticed them, other than as a signal that everything was working as it should. Immediately she looked around for the others so she could steer away from them. They were more visible now, the billowing parachutes like giant green mushrooms. She checked above her, located Snake. His chute had opened without problem, too.

  The arid air made for a slower descent, which extended the time they were sitting ducks for anyone with a firearm, and there was nothing they could do about it. Jina’s nerves were in shreds by the time she saw the ground coming at her. She flared the chute, tried for the one-point landing, and as usual failed miserably. She got off her butt and reeled her chute in, wadding it up and securing it.

  “Babe.”

  She turned toward the whisper and located Levi, joined up with him and Crutch. They went down on one knee to provide a smaller target; there was virtually no cover that she could see. There were some rocks, a few bushes, some dark slits in the ground that she assumed were wadis, but that was it. The others shortly joined them, all of them accounted for. Boom, the first on the ground, had located the equipment bag and their weapons were distributed.

  They moved as silently as possible toward the contact point, communicating by hand signals and whispering into their comm units. Even though it was night and a wind was blowing, the heat was oppressive. She was sweating within seconds; thank God they’d be gone by daybreak. The crumbled ruin where she’d be stationed came into view. It had been . . . she couldn’t tell what it had been. The ruin was too large to have been a hut, but what else could it have been, out here literally in the middle of nowhere? Why would a hut be here anyway? Behind the ruins was the dark gash of another wadi, so maybe at one time the place had been more habitable.

  Levi signaled everyone to take a knee, then Trapper and Voodoo silently circled the crumbled pile. A truck was tucked into the shadows on the other side of the ruin, a beat-up Toyota pickup truck that was so covered in dust it blended in with the surroundings. Maybe it wouldn’t collapse under the weight of nine people.

  Trapper reappeared and gave a thumbs-up. Levi rose to his feet and the team fanned out behind him, approaching the ruin from the front while Trapper and Voodoo covered the back. When he was closer, he crouched, picked up a rock, and tossed it into the ruin.

  Ten seconds later, a small figure appeared in the shattered doorway. He wore the traditional loose trousers and a shirt, his thick, untidy black hair blowing around his face. He looked about twelve, though he was likely older. He gave a low, warbling whistle.

  Levi whistled in return, but none of them advanced any closer.

  The boy stepped out of the doorway and waved his arm. He wasn’t carrying any weapons—at least none that they could see.

  Cautiously the team approached. Per Levi’s instructions, Jina stayed at the back of the group and kept her jump helmet on, though her hair was plastered with sweat under it. With all the gear she was wearing, no one would make her as female as long as her head was covered and she wore the NVD.

  “I am Mamoon,” the boy said when they got close enough to hear him, his English understandable. He had a quick, shy grin, though it faded somewhat when he looked up at Levi, towering over him. “You are here to pick up a package, yes?”

  “Yes,” Levi affirmed. “A large package.”

  Mamoon’s grin flashed again, perhaps at the description. “Very good,” he said happily. Behind him, a man appeared out of the shadows and every weapon came up. Mamoon’s eyes got big and he stepped back, raising one hand. “This is my uncle, Yasser. He will take you to the package.”

  “We were to meet one person,” Levi said, his tone hard.

  “I am Mamoon’s only relative,” Yasser said with dignity. Like Mamoon, his English was more than passable. “He lives with me.”

  “This is your home?”

  Yasser looked around at the crumbling ruin. “No, of course not. Please to enter?”

  Jelly slipped past them, sliding along the perimeter of the remaining walls. Only when he reappeared, signaling the OK, did Levi, Boom, and Jina enter.

  They pulled down their NVDs, and Levi shone a narrow penlight around the interior, examining it. Over half of the exterior walls were down, and most of the interior ones, but at the very back of the rough structure was a small room that was mostly intact. A black curtain of some thick, rough material closed it off. The heat inside the stone walls was somewhat less, but still stifling.

  “Here,” Jina murmured, knowing her raspy voice would help disguise her sex. She didn’t want to run afoul of any cultural differences, but at the same time she was here to do her job. If she could do it without stirring up any trouble, fine.

  The black curtain would block out the light from the laptop screen, giving her a measure of cover while she worked. At the same time, she would pretty much be trapped, in the rear of the ruin, with only one way out.

  Levi said quietly, “Get set up.” He ducked back through the black curtain, letting it fall, and began talking to Yasser. Their voices faded away as they walked toward the front of the ruin.

  Jina put the equipment bag down and took out her own penlight to better explore her surroundings. The little room, no more than eight feet wide, wasn’t completely solid. At the back the wall on the left had partially collapsed. She could feel air moving, and when she got down on her hands and knees to look for the source of the breeze, she could see a deeper darkness. She moved a couple of pieces of rubble and saw a jagged hole at the base of the wall, too small for a man to fit through. Mamoon, perhaps, could do so—and she thought she could, too.

  She felt slightly better. This whole situation made her uneasy. Everyone was uneasy, and with good reason. The least hiccup could spell disaster.

  Nineteen

  Levi said, “How far away is the package?”

  “Far enough to feel safe,” Yasser answered drily. His eyes weren’t friendly, but Levi didn’t expect friendliness, just cooperation. Many moderate Arabs didn’t care for Westerners, but cared even less for radicals or their own governments. For his part, Levi wasn’t concerned with whether or not Yasser was sympathetic; all he wanted was cooperation.

  “I need a time frame.”

  Yasser shrugged. “Fifteen minutes.”

  About a mile, then, well within Tweety’s range. Levi looked around. He didn’t like leaving Babe here, but the whole point of her job was to squat in a safe location and keep an extra eye out for the rest of the team. Taking her with them defeated the purpose, because she couldn’t walk and operate the drone at the same time. That left him with a choice to make: split the team and leave a couple of guys here with Babe, or take them all with him to maximize the odds of mission success. His training said mission success was the most important. If the informant was so afraid that he was hiding even from his rescuers, then he likely had reason to be, which meant there could well be others out there looking for him. This could still turn out to be a simple retrieve-and-go, but experience told him otherwise.

  “I’m leaving one of my team members here,” he said, “to handle communications.” That was true, as far as it went. He wasn’t telling anyone about Tweety, and it would be up to Babe to deploy the drone unnoticed. She likely already had. Looking around, he could see Boom and Jelly kidding around with Mamoon, which meant she was alone in the ruin, doing her thing. The little drone was virtually silent and wouldn’t be noticed at night.

  “Ah,” said Yasser. “I see. That is good. I will be able to leave Mamoon with him, then. I did not want to take the child, because there could be danger, but did not like to leave him here alone.”

  Levi nodded an affirmative. He liked the idea; that way Babe wouldn’t be by herself. The kid seemed bright and friendly and spoke English as well as his uncle. He said, “I’ll have a word and be right back,” and entered the ruin to talk to Babe, picking his way through the rubble.


  She looked up as he pulled aside the black curtain and stopped beside her. She already had the laptop booted up, as he’d expected; she’d made a mostly level place on top of the half-collapsed wall where she’d set the laptop and stood in front of it, tapping on the keys. The illumination of the screen was the only light, giving her a ghoulish look. She’d removed her jump helmet, but even so her hair was dark with sweat and her skin was shiny with it. He liked the look on her, but then he liked how she looked regardless. Smart girl; she’d taken her pistol out of the holster and placed it by her hand, saving her a second of time if she needed it.

  She glanced up at him, then back at the screen. “Yeah?” She never maintained eye contact for longer than she had to. He understood that boundary, respected it. He’d love to smash it to pieces, but he respected it . . . for now. How long that would hold true was anyone’s guess.

  “The kid is going to stay here with you, so you aren’t alone.”

  “Fine.” Another quick glance. “Not necessary, though. I’ve been alone before.”

  “This could get hairy. You gotta figure the informer has someone hot on his ass, or he wouldn’t be so jumpy. There’s no telling what we might run into out there, retrieving him—and that’s assuming he doesn’t get cold feet and rabbit on us.”

  “Nothing we can do about that. He’s either there or he isn’t. And if anyone is out there, Tweety will see them.”

  He looked at the screen. As he’d figured, Tweety was in the air. She had the drone hovering silently over the ruin, slowly rotating as she checked on each teammate, one by one. Yasser and Mamoon were standing together, Yasser’s hand on the kid’s shoulder. They appeared to be having an earnest conversation, the kid nodding his head as he got his instructions.

  “Be careful,” she said. For a second their eyes met, then she looked down again before he could get a read on anything, given the dimness of the light.

  “You too, babe,” he said, knowing she wouldn’t hear the faint difference in how he said the word, without capitalization. His palm tingled; the impulse to smooth his hand over the back of her head, her neck, was so strong he could actually feel the sensation even though he wasn’t touching her.

  Ah, shit. He needed to get his head off this dead-end path and back on the job.

  He ducked through the curtain and back outside, though “inside” was a loose description to use for a structure that was mostly in ruins. “Lead the way,” he said briefly to Yasser. Yasser pulled a fold of his headdress across his nose and mouth, to filter out the dust blown by the hot wind. Levi and the rest of the team pulled their balaclavas up over the lower halves of their faces, for the same reason. With their NVDs in place, their faces were almost wholly obscured.

  The direction Yasser chose was north-northeast, toward rougher terrain, but that was a logical position for the informer because it offered more concealment. A mile there, make contact, a mile back; Babe would be alone for no more than forty-five minutes if everything went smoothly, but there were no guarantees. Shit happening was such a given that Levi planned for it. The only unknown was what shape the shit would take.

  Jina took Tweety in slow circles around the fanned-out line of men, looking in all directions. She spotted a gazelle once, standing motionless and watching the humans pass by. She’d done her homework, knew there were gazelles and jackals and other mammals in the desert. There were also, surprisingly, scraggly shrubs and small trees, rock piles, jagged and barren mountains, and lots of flat space. Bedouins roamed the region, though in the heat of July it made sense that they were likely closer to water sources than they would be during the winter months.

  She wouldn’t mind a little winter right now—or even a water source she could be close to. Sweat was dripping off her. But which was worse, cold misery or hot misery? Hot misery, she decided, because she felt as if she could barely breathe. The hot wind kept the dust and sand stirred up, getting in every crevice, making her eyes and mouth feel gritty, her nose clogged. None of it was a happy feeling.

  She watched the screen, controlling Tweety with both keystrokes to bring up his various cameras, and the mini roller-ball mouse that ruled the drone’s movements, which she had attached to the laptop. Her communications headset was in place, earbud and throat mic, her NVD, equipment and gear bags, pistol, and jump helmet right beside her, so she could grab and go if necessary.

  For the most part the guys were silent, communicating by gesture or low-pitched comments when necessary. She too was quiet, because she had nothing to report. Idle chatter was distracting.

  She heard Mamoon enter the outer part of the ruin, moving around, singing a little under his breath. He’d been outside for a while, which suited her fine. If he was like most kids, her solitude back here wouldn’t last long, because his curiosity would get the better of him.

  No sooner had she had the thought than the black curtain moved, and he slid behind it to join her in the small room.

  He stared at her in shock. “You are a woman!”

  She nodded, maintaining communications silence, keeping an eye on the screen. She feathered the roller ball, turning Tweety in a slow circle.

  “You travel with men?”

  His tone was scandalized. Jina clicked off her communications mic and indicated the pistol by her hand, though she kept watching the screen. “I’m armed,” she said briefly. “They leave me alone.” There was no point in getting into any long discussion about anything, just let him know how such a thing was possible, then get back to her job. She clicked the mic back on.

  He watched her for a minute, her nimble hands in the fingerless black gloves moving over the keys, “fuzzing” the track ball in minute adjustments. He looked at the screen, tilted his head a little, watched the view change as she surveyed the surroundings. The thermal imaging picked up a very small signature and she zeroed in, enlarged, found some kind of weird rodent going about its ratty business. It looked like a mash-up of rabbit, rat, and kangaroo. Backing out again, she resumed her area surveillance.

  Mamoon gasped as the line of men came on-screen. “How are you doing this?”

  Crap. She wished he’d shut up and let her do her job. She clicked off the mic again. “I have a flying camera I’m controlling.”

  His eyes got big, and he looked back at the screen. “You saw the jerboa!”

  “The rat? Yes, the camera is very sensitive.” Mic back on. She moved Tweety to the other side of the team, searching, watching.

  She tried not to sound as impatient as she felt, just keep it businesslike, but the kid must have picked up on something in her tone because abruptly he darted back through the curtain and left her alone. Maybe he remembered something he was supposed to be doing. Maybe he was going to get something. Definitely he was a kid, so who knew? She was just glad he was gone, so she could concentrate.

  Checking the time, she saw that the men had been moving for twelve minutes; they should be getting close to where the informant was hiding. She wondered if there were any caves. There were jagged and rocky mountains and such, so logically there had to be caves. It was time to take Tweety farther in advance, see what he could see.

  Mamoon had gone outside the ruin. She could hear a faint thunking sound to the left, as if he were fooling around the truck, maybe getting inside it and pretending to drive. Could be he already knew how to drive. Maybe he was getting in it to take a nap, out of the blowing sand, though she thought the interior of the truck would be too hot for comfort.

  She focused on Tweety, taking the little drone ahead, looking for the heat signature of the informant.

  She heard something else outside—a voice. A man’s voice, hushed, too indistinct for her to make out words. At first she couldn’t tell if she was hearing it in her earbud, or in her uncovered right ear. She frowned, concentrated, listened.

  Then she heard Mamoon’s lighter tones, as hushed as the other.

  Someone was out there, someone they hadn’t expected. Had Mamoon heard him, gone out to deflec
t attention?

  No. It was the middle of the night, and they were in the freaking desert. People didn’t just wander around and visit, especially not a ruin where no one was likely to be anyway. Whoever was there wasn’t there by accident.

  Alarm tingled her spine. She started to let the team know she had company when Tweety’s cameras picked up a thermal signature, a man-sized one. Then another. Then another, and more, easily ten or fifteen, concealed on either side of the route the team would take. She forgot about the threat outside the ruin, focusing entirely on her guys.

  “Ambush! Ambush—” she said urgently.

  There was no time for anything else. As she got the second word out a thunderous explosion sent rock and dust flying through the ruin, the percussion knocking her to the right. Her head and right elbow banged painfully against the wall and she went down in a heap, with debris raining down on her.

  Coughing violently, dazed, she nevertheless did what her training had taught her to do and pushed the debris away, immediately scrambled back to her feet. The darkness was absolute, the computer screen gone black.

  Assume the worst.

  The guys were too far away; whatever attack was happening, she had to save herself. She couldn’t see. Her night-vision goggles . . . they’d been beside her and were now God only knew where. She couldn’t find anything. Blindly she groped, touched something warm and metal, recognized the smooth edges of the laptop.

  The laptop was made to withstand being dropped, submerged, and any number of other insults to the sensitive workings. She had to assume it was still operable, which meant she couldn’t let it fall into anyone else’s hands. She couldn’t hear anything, her ears were ringing from the explosion. She couldn’t tell if whoever had been outside was even now coming through the ruin in search of her.

  Assume the worst.