Cover of Darkness (28 page)

She nodded, making the too-large helmet bob, eyes adjusting to the goggles that lit the pitch-black landscape with a weird green glow. Luke maneuvered to the doorway, rifle in hand, and as soon as the skids bumped against the ground, he was gone. Bryn leapt out and took off after him as fast as she could in her crouch. Her hair whipped around where it emerged from under the helmet, the wash from the rotors creating miniature sandstorms that beat against her clothes.

At a run, she followed Luke to a dune, the pulse of the helicopter growing fainter. When he went to his knees, Bryn felt a hand on her back, Dec right behind her. He placed a finger to his lips and motioned for her to get down. Trying her best to breathe slowly and quietly, she dropped onto her belly and held still while the two men took their bearings and 263

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assessed the situation. Without a two-way radio, she couldn't hear their communications.

"Clear," Luke confirmed.

"Clear," Dec echoed.

Letting out a relieved breath, she awaited further instruction. Where was Ali?

Dec hunkered next to her. "Okay?"

She nodded, afraid to speak.

"Follow Luke, but stay back a little ways. Keep quiet unless there's an emergency. I'll be right behind you."

She nodded again, realized she'd grabbed his hand and let go abruptly. When Luke got to his feet she stayed a few steps back and copied his every move like a mime, careful to place her feet in his prints in the sand. Paranoia overwhelmed her brain, forming images of landmines and trip wires. Her heart drummed against her chest like a crazy metronome.

Their feet swished through the sand as they moved, quickly now, her vision fixed on the back of Luke's head as it turned this way and that, scanning the horizon, weapon always poised. Unarmed as she was, if they did run into trouble she wouldn't be any help unless she found rocks small enough for her to throw. She clamped her teeth together to stem the burst of hysterical laughter.

Suck it up, Bryn. One foot in front of the other. Pay
attention.

They hiked across the desert for what seemed like a long time—long enough for blisters to form where her heels and baby toes rubbed. Coming to a rise, Luke slowed his pace, signaled for her to stop and crawled forward over the crest on 264

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his forearms. Dec came up beside her and lay a hand on her back, in reassurance or command, she wasn't sure. After a few seconds, Luke disappeared from view. Dec pressed against her shoulder blades, keeping her still.

Every fiber of her being tuned to the man next to her, the warmth of his body imbued with the scent of soap and musk that was all Dec. As impossible as it seemed, a sense of calm stole over her.

They stayed like that for a few minutes longer, Dec's hand warm against her spine. The instant his body tensed, she whipped her head around.

"Copy that," he murmured into his mike, peering down at her through his goggles. "Ali's confirmed our target's in the house. Luke's going to order a predator drone strike and paint the target with a laser while we stay here for cover support."

House? Out here? She glanced up at the sky. Were unmanned predator drones flying around up there? Unreal.

She'd seen stuff like this on CNN, but never dreamed she'd experience it firsthand. Now that she had a front row seat, she would rather have passed on the opportunity.

"I'm going to creep a little further to keep an eye on things, but you can stay here if you want."

Oh. He meant she might feel better not witnessing the explosion, human lives being lost. How many people were in that house, anyway? And how did Luke know if they were all terrorists or not?

He couldn't know, and maybe he didn't care. So long as Tehrazzi was killed, collateral damage was justified. Could he 265

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be that cold-blooded? So callous? Yes, he really could. The blood drained from her face.

"Bryn? What do you want to do?"

Some tiny part of her, a part that shamed her, wanted to watch the warhead go off and know Tehrazzi was being blown to bits. But mostly the idea of watching and knowing someone was dying shriveled her insides. Especially when innocent people might be involved.

"Any civilians in there?"

Dec went dead still. "No. Look, maybe you should—"

"I'll come with you." She didn't want to be left by herself, so she'd go with him and shut her eyes, pray with everything she had that no innocent blood would be shed.

He hesitated. "I'd rather you didn't." It wasn't a command, though.

He didn't want her seeing it. How did he cope with this part of his job? "I'm coming."

She shadowed him to the crest of the hill, where the village came into view, a cluster of five or six mud houses in the middle of the desert. She had to wonder what the lives of these villagers were like, what sort of existence they eked out in such a barren, lonely place.

They waited in absolute silence for Luke to apprise them of the situation. When the report came Dec whispered, "Affirm,"

into his boom mike. "Air strike inbound." He indicated the house furthest to the left.

Rather than cowering from what was going to happen, as she wanted to, an alarming excitement bubbled up inside her.

Ashamed, she stared at the dimly lit windows of the target 266

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house and reminded herself that other people might be in there too. "Tehrazzi's really inside?"

"Uh-huh. When I tell you, get your head down and keep your eyes shut or you'll toast your retinas."

The alien emotion intensified, roaring through her in a frightening rush of vengeance and glee. The man responsible for her father's death and all her suffering was about to meet his demise. Her hands shook as she scanned through the built-in high-powered binoculars.
Gotcha, you bastard
.

Dec glanced at her, then confirmed into his mike that there was no additional activity. He pulled a map out of his vest pocket and double-checked the coordinates with Luke. "Stay here," he ordered her. "I'm going to go a little further and make sure we haven't been spotted. Don't move until I come back."

She froze in place as he crept forward and disappeared from view. Left alone on the cool sand, she lay there, afraid to move, her pulse beating a frantic tattoo.

Then voices broke the stillness, barely detectible.

Heart lodged in her throat, Bryn swiveled her head. Two shadowy figures had appeared in the distance. A young girl led a donkey by its halter, chattering to a child perched on its swaying back. What in God's name were they doing out alone at night? They headed down the dirt road straight toward the house where Tehrazzi was apparently holed up.

Every muscle in her body went rigid with denial. "Oh no..."

Had Dec heard the kids? Did he know they were in danger?

Could he alert the children before the air strike?

Not if he hadn't seen them.

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What should she do? She was too afraid to yell out in case someone started shooting, but no way could she sit back and let those children suffer. The breath shot in and out of her nose as she counted backward from ten, praying Dec would do something so she wouldn't have to.

Ten, nine, eight...

The little boy laughed. Bryn squeezed her eyes shut.

Four, three, two...

No Dec.

One.

Bryn took off running. Her thigh muscles bunched as she scrambled down the rise, breath coming in jerky gasps. The ill-fitting helmet jiggled up and down, obscuring her hampered vision, so she yanked at the chin strap and shoved the thing off her head. Kept running. She
had
to get there before the air strike. Had to save the kids.

"Bryn!"

Ignoring Dec's shout, she sprinted hard, fueled by adrenaline. Bouncing off rocks and boulders, she hit the road and scrambled to her feet, breath sawing in and out of her lungs in sobs. She could not let innocent children be caught up in this.

"Bryn, no!"

She ignored him. The children weren't stopping. She opened her mouth and screamed the Arabic word for stop. It came out in a high-pitched wail, and both children jerked around to face her in fear. "Stop! Go back!" she yelled, waving her arms in a frantic effort to get them to move.

"Run!"

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But rather than scurry away from her as she'd intended, the girl yanked on the donkey's halter and hurried toward the house, probably terrified of the apparition screaming at them in the middle of the desert.

"Go back!" she yelled again, slipping into English.

An engine screamed overhead.

The girl kept going.

Something heavy slammed into Bryn's back, tumbling her into the dirt. Dec had tackled her, was shielding her with his body, the air strike moments away. He pressed her down, begging her to stay still, but she couldn't give up. Pinned beneath him, she raised her head and stared helplessly at the children. She was too late. As if in slow motion, the toddler atop the donkey looked back at her, shadowed eyes wide as he advanced unknowingly toward his death. The image burned its way into her brain. "No-o!" She couldn't bear this.

Couldn't live with it.

A shriek split the air, the streak of the warhead.

"Head down! Close your eyes!"

She struggled in Dec's grip. Then the missile hit the building and exploded, the pulse of light blinding her. Dec tried to cover her eyes but the blast wave knocked him off her and slammed them into a rock face. He cushioned the blow for her, but the air around them burned like a blowtorch as debris flew.

Her lungs felt scorched, her face singed as she struggled to her hands and knees, fighting hysteria, the concussion driving the breath from her. The house was nothing more than a pile of burning rubble. She couldn't see the children. Where were 269

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they? Maybe they'd been far enough away from the explosion. Maybe they were still alive. She had to find them.

Her legs wobbled under her as she staggered to her feet.

Dec was rolling to his hands and knees as she passed him at a jerky run toward the wreckage. Muscles in her legs and back burned, Dec pounding over the sand behind her, coming up fast, closer and closer. She found a new burst of speed.

Her heart and lungs screamed in protest as she forced her body to its limit, eyes fixed on the carnage before her.

Gasping from the prolonged exertion, she stumbled to a halt where the children should have been. Kneeling, she began digging with single-minded intent, heedless of the sharp timber and rock slicing her hands and arms.

"Come on, come on!" she grunted, hefting a chunk of wall out of the way. In the gap she'd opened, a foot appeared.

Small. The little boy's. Stricken, she sat immobile for a split second, mind refusing to acknowledge what was right in front of her eyes.

A wail of grief tore from her throat and she clawed at the surrounding rubble, exposing more of the crushed body.

Hard hands closed around her shoulders, dragging her up and away. She struck out mindlessly, screaming as she lashed out with a solid elbow to the throat. The hands released her immediately and she fell to the ground, scrambling back to the young body.

Someone grabbed her again, tighter this time, around her ribs. Almost cutting off her air.

"Bryn. Bryn!" Dec.

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She fought him like a madwoman. "Let me go!" she screeched, landing another blow to his face, but he blocked it, swearing. He tried to snatch her again, missed. Back on her knees she went, tearing at the rocks covering the little legs. If she could just free him, maybe they could take him on the helicopter to a hospital.

Someone else grabbed hold of her, far less gently.

Spinning to throw a punch, she came face to face with Luke.

Illuminated by the ghastly orange light of the flames, the look in his eyes should have scared the hell out of her, but she was beyond reason.

He shook her once, hard, making her head snap back. "Get out of here,
now
." He shoved her toward Dec.

With a cry of outrage, she lashed out at Luke with the side of her hand. Quick as lightning he whipped her arm up and behind her, held it there on the point of pain, where he could snap the bones with one twist of his wrist. His expression was unyielding. "Don't make me hurt you, Bryn."

"You bastard," she wept, struggling futilely. "Let me get him out at least!"

"No. You're going to turn around and get your ass on that incoming chopper, and you're going to do it now."

"Bryn, come on," Dec urged. "Come with me."

"I can't just leave him here! Don't you understand?" Their callous indifference was unbelievable.

"There's nothing you can do," Luke said tightly, hauling her away toward Dec.

"I won't leave him like that." She twisted hard, a wrenching pain in her elbow as she resisted Luke, not caring 271

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if she dislocated her arm. Suddenly, his hands clamped on either side of her neck in a pressure lock. She squeaked and tried to hit him, but he'd moved in too close and she didn't have any leverage. Within seconds her vision went hazy, and she went down.

Dec leapt toward her as she fell. "Jesus," he exclaimed, catching her dead weight an instant before she hit the ground. He hauled her into his arms and shot Luke a glare.

"What the hell—"

"She lost it," he said with a shrug, starting for the rendezvous point without a backwards glance. "I didn't hurt her. She'll come to in a minute."

For Christ's sake, he could have broken her neck. Or strangled her. Bryn hung limply in his arms, face streaked with grime and tears. Ali was goggling at them with his mouth open, backing away to give him room to move her. Shifting her carefully onto his shoulder, Dec hustled them down the road into a clearing to await the chopper.