Cover of Darkness

by Kaylea Cross

  “When?”

  “Two minutes.”

  “Relay the coordinates.”

  Rhys crouched behind the protective wall the team made for him and whipped out a grid map, yelling rapid instructions over the radio. An RPG round shrieked overhead and impacted higher up the cliff, slamming into the rock face. Chunks of debris rained down on them like deadly hail.

  Dec rolled to his knees, shaken and disoriented. As the ringing in his ears dissipated, he caught the high-pitched roar of the cavalry overhead. Fighting to stay upright, he kept firing, hearing Rhys on the radio.

  “Thirty seconds to target, danger close.” He flashed Dec a grim look.

  They were too close to the target and could never make it out of range within thirty seconds.

  Thirty seconds, and Bryn was still in there…

  Dec’s heart tripped. “Move out! Go, go!”

  He grabbed the man nearest him and tore over the open ground, spewing rounds for covering fire. When he glanced back, all his teammates were hauling ass, but the roar of a jet engine pierced the din.

  A streak of light split the air. A missile, off course, hurtling toward them.

  “Take cover!” he bellowed, diving onto his front.

  The warhead roared through the sky. Impacted too close. A massive shockwave blew outward. The earth rolled beneath his feet. Pitched him upward.

  His vision dimmed. He hurtled through the air, crushing pain ripping through his chest as darkness took him.

  ****

  The sudden gunfire outside, popping noises, like fireworks, made Bryn’s breath catch. Her heart lurched. A battle. With Americans? Dec might be out there. Was a team trying to rescue her?

  Shouts reached her as men ran past the dugout, barking orders. They scrambled down the slope. She struggled to her side, lay there with her muscles tensed.

  She’d prayed for a rescue, begged Dec to come for her. But what if he was out there right now, and something happened to him? She loved him. She probably wasn’t going to make it out of this shelter. She didn’t want Dec to die for her. She at least wanted him to make it back home.

  Voices. Outside the opening. She recognized Tehrazzi’s. Her belly tightened. Was he coming back to kill her?

  He appeared through the blanket flap. His eyes met hers as he approached, pulling a knife from his belt.

  She shrank back, stomach clenching at the wickedly sharp blade he wielded. Oh God, this is it. I’m going to die.

  Smothering a scream as he stalked over, she squeezed her eyes shut, turned her head away as though it would shield her from what he was about to do to her. She braced herself for the first terrible burn of the blade in her skin.

  He grabbed her shoulder and flipped her onto her stomach. A scream of denial and fear stuck in her throat.

  But he didn’t stab her. He seized her foot and sawed through the tape. He let go, and her legs and arms fell apart. Her legs hit the ground with a thud. She jerked her gaze up, staring at him warily while she got to her knees.

  His green gaze touched hers for a moment before he bent and grabbed her wrists. She ducked her head and flinched as he sliced her hands free. They dropped to her sides, leaden as the blood rushed back. She sucked in a breath at the hot sting.

  “Get up.”

  Eyes wide, she gaped at him. Was he going to free her feet as well?

  He slid his knife back in its scabbard at his waist.

  Her breath trembled in and out. She eyed him warily.

  “You may thank Allah for sparing you. He has let you live so that you may help me escape.”

  The hell she would. Her eyes narrowed. Her fingers flexed, the burn fading. Strength flowed into her muscles along with the blood. A terrible rage invaded her. This man had taken everything from her. Her father. Her freedom. Her chance with Dec. Maybe her life, when he was finished with her.

  No more.

  The words echoed in her skull. She would not go without a fight. She would show him just how strong she was. He would pay for what he’d done to her. In blood and bruises wrought by her own hands.

  He produced a roll of duct tape, advanced toward her.

  She stared holes into his face. “I don’t think so.”

  He stilled a moment, as though she’d surprised him. Then he grinned. “Give me your hands.”

  She trembled with fury. “Come get them.”

  His jaw tensed, irritation snapping in his eyes. He reached for her.

  Bryn shot her hand around his wrist, wrenched it up and back and threw him over her hip. He hit the ground with a grunt and swiveled about to glare at her. She hopped back, her linked ankles making it hard to keep her balance, but she managed, keeping her hands up, her body squared.

  Come on, you bastard. Fight me.

  Tehrazzi climbed to his feet and brushed at his robes, giving her a look of contempt. “You would not like me to lose my temper.”

  “Fuck you.” She was out of her head with anger. “You want me? Untie my feet and fight me like a man.”

  For a moment she thought he might, his expression was so enraged. But then he seemed to gather himself and the hot glow left his eyes. He picked up the tape and then drew his knife.

  Her skin shriveled.

  “Easy way, or hard way, Miss Daoud. Your choice.”

  When he tried to grab her again, she lashed out at the wrist of his knife hand with a cry, knocked it out of his grip. A euphoric haze swamped her. A hysterical laugh brimmed. She wasn’t powerless. She was strong. She threw a punch at his head.

  He ducked back, her knuckles grazing his beard.

  But the punch had her falling forward, and her feet couldn’t keep up with the momentum. Her knees hit the ground, and in a heartbeat he was on her, straddling her hips and wrenching her head up with a muscular arm wrapped around her neck. She screeched in outrage, twisting up to bash him with her skull, trying to get air.

  He nailed her between the shoulders with the hilt of his knife. Her arms went numb, fell away from his. He released her throat.

  “Bastard,” she hissed, tears stinging because she knew it was over. He had her wrists taped up before she could move her arms, and hefted her onto his shoulder.

  She tried to plow an elbow into his face but he dodged it and whacked her in the head hard enough to make the cave spin. Before her head cleared he had her outside and…

  Slung her over the back of a horse.

  She reared up just as he leapt on behind her. Facedown with her arms pinned beneath her, she was helpless to fight his powerful grip. He jammed one elbow into her spine to hold her still and drove his heels into the horse’s sides, sending them rocketing forward over the sand.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Luke struggled up on his knees in the aftermath of the explosion. His head rang like a bell inside his helmet. Jesus, he’d almost been killed by friendly fire.

  He fumbled to get the NVGs back in place. Glancing around, he shook his head to clear his blurry vision and saw Rhys pound over to the two bodies lying in the sand. Luke staggered over. McCabe lay unconscious as Rhys checked his vitals.

  “Got a pulse,” he said. “And he’s still breathing, but not well.”

  Luke was already calling for a Medevac. Shots peppered the ground around them. He checked the other SEAL. Still alive, but his chances of surviving the shrapnel wounds to his belly were slim. He and Rhys dragged the SEALs behind some rocks.

  “Stay with them until the medics arrive,” he told Rhys, and rose to head back to the rest of the team. His knees buckled but he caught himself, gritted his teeth and rushed to help the others.

  They were still firing, holding their own when he got to them. “Dec’s down,” he shouted to them. “Hold your positions until the air support clears the ridge.” He flattened himself on the ground when another round detonated close by. He felt the rush of hot air as the debris flew past his head. Raising his rifle, he picked off a figure running at them.

  In the distance, something caught his e
ye. He glimpsed a figure on top of the ridge. Heart racing, he zoomed in with his NVGs and tightened the focus. His breath caught. Bryn and Tehrazzi. On horseback.

  She was still alive.

  Pulled to them like a magnet, he shoved to his feet.

  “Sir!”

  He spared a glance at the young SEAL beside him. His eyes were wide.

  “I’m going after him—the rest of you stay here,” he shouted over the gunfire. “Medevac’s inbound. Lay down covering fire for me—”

  “But sir—”

  “Covering fire. Now,” he snapped, fighting off waves of dizziness.

  The kid relayed the order, and the SEALs started sweeping the area with short bursts. Luke sprinted across the open desert, heading for the ridge. He couldn’t call for air support now. Not while Tehrazzi had Bryn with him. Luke was going to have to pick him off with his rifle.

  Bullets sliced through the air. Mortars whistled overhead. He kept running. His chest burned. His thighs ached. He reached the edge of the slope, scrambled up it with his rifle flung across his back. His fingers dug into the earth. He clawed his way up to the top, lay panting on his belly as he scanned the desolate ridge for Tehrazzi, weapon up. The ground tilted. He shook his head sharply.

  Stay tight. You’ve almost got him.

  The world righted itself.

  No sign of them. They’d disappeared over the ridge. Panic rose. He forced it away and dropped his eyes to the ground.

  There in the distance. Hoof prints.

  No way could he catch up on foot, and the Air Force had its hands full. If he had to wait for another helo to pick him up, he might lose the path. He tore back toward the camp, ignoring the nausea that boiled up each time his head jarred when his feet hit the ground. Firing and hitting a sentry, he raked his gaze over the site. A motorbike. There by the dugout.

  He raced over and grabbed it, fired it up. The engine sputtered and caught, roared to life. At a tingle between his shoulder blades he glanced up, saw the rifle swinging toward him. Luke fired, hitting the guy in the chest.

  Twisting the throttle, he slung around and took off to pick up the trail. Finding the place where his footprints began, he tracked the hoof prints over the rise. He followed them down the bank and across the wadi.

  Something made him stop. The bike idled beneath him.

  This route led down to the river basin. Why would Tehrazzi come this way?

  You trained him. He thinks like you. What would you do?

  He’d be hauling ass to the Iranian border. Which was in the opposite direction.

  He blinked to clear his vision, stared at the hoof prints, precious seconds ticking past. Now that he studied them more closely, they were odd looking. Too clearly defined. Horseshoes? He frowned. Tehrazzi didn’t shoe his horses. Why would he need to have his horse shod? Unless…

  Shit. Had the bastard nailed the shoes on backward, to lead anyone following him in the opposite direction?

  Like he’d just done. He could almost hear Tehrazzi’s delighted laughter whispering in the wind.

  His head pounded sickeningly. “Christ I hate you,” he breathed, and sped back the way he’d come, following the tracks toward the border.

  ****

  The scream of a jet broke through the gunfire as a fighter streaked overhead. Behind her, Tehrazzi cursed and spurred the horse to run faster. The animal put its head down and lengthened its strides, eating up the ground. A terrific explosion rocked the air. The concussion forced the air out of her lungs, thudded deep in her chest.

  The horse stumbled as the shockwave rippled through the earth, but kept its footing, galloping away from the cloud of dust rising above where the camp had been only seconds before.

  She would have been in there if Tehrazzi hadn’t needed her for cover. She would already be dead. Maybe that would have been a kinder way to go than what he had planned for her.

  Bryn’s mind raced as she flew across the desert in Tehrazzi’s unbreakable grip. He’d gotten away. He wouldn’t need her anymore. If she wanted even a chance of surviving, she had to come up with a way to escape before he stopped the horse.

  The wind whistled past her, making her eyes water. The pounding of hooves was loud in the quiet. Tehrazzi stared straight ahead, taking them farther away from the camp. Where was he going? Didn’t matter. She had to get away.

  Her eyes surveyed the terrain. Some gullies. A few drop-offs. Mostly rolling landscape. She could jump. If she did, would he stop and come back for her? Or would he keep going? Maybe she could get his gun, or the knife she’d seen at his waist. She might be able to get a shot at him. Would she be able to pull the trigger? Stab him?

  Yes.

  The realization shocked her. She hated him enough to kill him. If that was her only chance to get away, she would do it.

  But he was quick. Well trained, better than she was. She’d only get one chance with this. If she failed, he’d kill her for sure.

  ****

  Dec came to. Someone was lifting him roughly. Pain tore through his chest. Can’t breathe. He tried to push away.

  “It’s okay, man.” Rhys’s face peered down at him. He slung him over his shoulder. “Take it easy. Helo’s waiting.”

  Dec tried to suck in air. Couldn’t.

  No air. Choking.

  His vision turned gray around the edges. Rhys’s voice, urgent. Rotor blades whirring. More hands on him. Pressing down where the pain hurt the worst. His body jerked.

  Bryn. Was she alive? Had someone gotten her out?

  “Don’t,” he gasped, struggling. “Can’t leave—” They had to get Bryn out.

  “Hold him down.”

  No! “Bryn… Is she—?”

  “Easy, Lieutenant.”

  Someone put a mask on his face. Still can’t breathe. He clawed at the hands holding the mask down, striving to escape his own body. Pain’s so bad. Can’t stand it.

  “Can you sedate him?”

  “Soon as I get this line in him.”

  The rotors sped up. The floor tilted.

  Bryn… Can’t leave her… He loved her. Didn’t want to go on breathing if she was dead.

  Ping. Ping. Pop. Small arms fire hit the chopper.

  Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat. Machine gun returning fire.

  Can’t. Fucking. Breathe.

  Bang!

  The rotors whined. The aircraft tilted sharply and then dropped.

  The hands holding him clenched tight. “Shit!”

  “Brace yourselves! We’re going down!”

  Can’t breathe. Helo crashing. Going to die.

  He pushed the thought away, then pictured Bryn’s face…igniting a desperate will to live.

  ****

  The whap of rotors sounded. Luke glanced over his shoulder, watched the helo climb. One of theirs. The Medevac he’d called for McCabe. He floored the bike, slowly gaining on the horse.

  You’re not getting away this time, you bastard.

  Something exploded.

  Luke’s head whipped up. Jesus. A round had hit the helo. He saw the sparks from its tail rotor. Heard the disruption in the engine, the whine as it lost altitude. “Shit,” he whispered, heart pounding as it plummeted.

  The ground shook when it hit. Relief flooded him when no fireball exploded. Maybe the aircraft was still intact. Maybe the guys had survived. Goddamn. Nothing more he could do for them, he was too far away. The others on the ground would have to order air support and another extract.

  He had Tehrazzi in his sights. He wasn’t stopping now. Couldn’t. Everything hinged on him capturing the bastard. If he couldn’t do that, he’d kill him. Or die trying.

  He glued his eyes to the back of the horse. He was close enough to tell the color now. Deep brown. The engine screamed as he opened up the throttle, the wheels spinning in the dusty ground. Tehrazzi was right in front of him. His heart slammed. He’d waited six years for this. He was going to end this now.

  ****

  The horse was tiring. Its nostr
ils flared wide as it tried to pull in more air, its sides heaving with the strain of carrying them at a full gallop for so long. They were slowing. If Bryn was going to jump, she was going to have to do it soon, before the animal stopped.

  She flexed her fingers, getting the blood flowing through them so she could grab for the pistol in his belt. She’d already planned out the movement.

  She was going to brace her bound feet against the horse, shove up with every bit of strength she had and throw her head up into his face. At the same time, she’d have to grab the gun with her bound hands and smash her elbow into him as she threw herself off the horse somehow. She’d worry about that when the time came. For now, she had to pick her moment.

  She braced herself, body tensing in anticipation. The horse slowed a little more.

  A hitch. That’s all she needed—something to throw them a little off balance.

  Her heart pounded. She might die doing this, either during or after, when Tehrazzi caught her. For a moment she tipped her head back to gaze up at the lightening sky. The last stars were fading into the sea of indigo. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath.

  I love you, Dec. Wherever you are.

  The whine of an engine had her eyes snapping open. Tehrazzi twisted in the saddle. Her gaze went past him. A man was chasing them on a motorbike, gaining on them. Elation roared through her. Was it Dec? Hope flooded her.

  Tehrazzi barked out a curse and swiveled back around, bending low over the horse’s neck, pinning her harder between him and the animal. She fought not to shove at him.

  Stay still. Don’t tip him off you’re going to try anything.

  But then Tehrazzi tore the pistol from his waistband and aimed it behind him. He fired. The man on the bike ducked, swerved, but kept coming. Closer now. She saw his face.

  “Luke!” she screamed, rearing up despite herself.

  Tehrazzi shoved her down, kept firing.

  Get him, Luke, shoot the bastard!