Tactical Strike (16 page)

“All right, let’s move out, people,” the ground team commanding
officer said in a clear, loud voice.

Candace stayed out of the way while the men moved past her,
carrying the wounded on makeshift litters, and spotted one carrying a zipped
body bag across his shoulders. She swallowed and tightened her hands around the
ruck straps to ease the strain on her shoulders, trying not to think about the
man inside the body bag or any of the others meeting that same fate in the
coming hours.

Waiting by the entrance as everyone filed out into the storm,
one of the soldiers spoke to her when she neared. “You go after the last of your
crew. I’ll be right behind you.”

Not about to argue, she nodded and fell into line behind Dover,
who was carrying one of their injured on some sort of a litter with another
crewman. The moment she cleared the protection of the enclosure, a gust of wind
snatched her breath. In the half hour they’d been triaging the wounded, the snow
had already begun to accumulate on the ground. The thin layer was the only way
she could see the ground beneath her in the darkness. Shifting the ruck
slightly, the muscles in her back and legs already protesting the added weight,
she followed close behind Dover, picking her way over the rocks as they climbed
the route the team leader had chosen. Though she couldn’t see him, knowing Ryan
was ahead of her made her feel a tiny bit more secure.

“Big rock face coming up,” the man behind her called up. “Watch
your footing here.”

She could barely see her hand if she held it right up to her
face. Watching her footing was near impossible. Christ, it was cold. Her toes
and fingers were numb with it and they’d barely started the ascent. She had no
idea how far they had to go or where the end goal was, and maybe it was better
that way. Right now all she had to do was focus on putting one foot in front of
the other.

Reaching out her gloved hands to feel in front of her for the
big rock she’d been warned about was the best she could do. Finding it at last,
she curled her unfeeling fingers into a crevice above her head and searched
around for a decent toe hold. How the hell were the others carrying the
stretchers over this terrain? Her thigh and butt muscles strained to push her
up, her lungs laboring from the exertion in the thin air. The others were
carrying much more weight than her, she reminded herself. She had to keep up,
ignore the cold and the growing dread that the enemy would find them.

Stay
focused
.
One
step
at
a
time
.
Don’t
think
any
further
than
beyond
your
next
step
. That’s how SEALs made it through BUD/S. It
might help her through this.

They climbed ever higher while the storm raged and the snow
continued to fall, the pace excruciatingly slow because of having to carry the
wounded and all of her crew moving blind across the terrain without night vision
capabilities. Twice her feet slipped on the snow-slick rock and she caught
herself with her hands, shoulder muscles screaming with the effort. She lost all
sense of time, concentrating solely on each step, doing her best to keep up to
Dover.

Candace didn’t know how much time had passed before someone
finally called for a halt. She was shivering, her face numb, heart slamming from
the climb. Panting, she closed her eyes and leaned her body forward against the
rock face, unsettled by how rapidly her muscles were weakening. Worse, she was
sweating beneath her flight suit. The temperature made that dangerous. Ahead of
her, Dover changed places with someone else and dropped back with her.

Although she couldn’t see his face in the darkness, she could
hear his distorted breaths over the wind. “Doin’ okay?” he managed.

“Yeah. You?” She wanted to lie down and curl into a shivering
ball.

“Hanging in there.” He stopped talking to catch his breath a
little more. “Damn steep hill. Not sure how much farther we have to go.”

Probably a ways more, if they were trying to outdistance the
enemy they’d left in the valley. “Crew okay?”

“They’re holding their own, even the walking wounded.”

“Gillespie still hanging tough?”

“Not sure.”

Out of things to say, she simply rested in position, conserving
her energy for the next push. When the order came, she summoned her resolve and
doggedly continued to scale the steep slope after Dover. This time it seemed
like they climbed forever. Candace pushed her body onward until her legs were
trembling and her heart pounded sickeningly against her ribs. The others were
still going, despite the cold and the burdens they carried. She couldn’t stop.
Couldn’t be another liability out here that put them all at risk to enemy attack
or the threat of hypothermia because she slowed them down. She was a fucking
officer representing the Air Force. She had to rise above everything else and
pull her weight, be an example of strength and calm for her crew.

Clenching her jaw, she struggled to push her body over the edge
of a lip. Her steel-toed combat boots felt like they weighed a hundred pounds
each. She dragged one into position for a toe hold and reached up to help lever
her arms against the top of the lip, her muscles quivering with the strain.
She’d made it halfway up, her head and shoulders clearing the edge, when her
legs began to give out. A spurt of panic flashed through her as she felt her
knees begin to buckle.

No
!
No
no
no
no
—

Her fingers scrabbled for purchase on the icy surface of the
rock, and a hand suddenly clamped around her wrist, pulling hard.

“Come on,” Dover growled, muscling her upward.

The soldier behind her rushed over to set a hand on her ass,
shoving to help boost her up and over the ledge. Candace scrambled over the edge
and flopped onto her belly like a dying fish, gasping in aching lungfuls of air
so cold it felt like icy needles were pricking the inside of her chest.

Dover crouched beside her and clamped a rough hand on her
shoulder. He shook her. “Come on, Ace, get up and move your ass.”

Candace didn’t have the breath to snap at him as he half
dragged her to her knees. She gave herself a mental slap.
You
can’t
quit
.
You
have
to
move
. She crawled a few feet forward, humiliation
and despair flooding her. Dover reached down and seized her wrists, hauling her
to her feet. The weight of the ruck seemed to have tripled since they’d left the
enclosure, all but collapsing her knees. Only dogged determination kept her
inching forward, a sheen of potentially deadly sweat coating her skin beneath
the Gore-Tex jacket and flight suit.

“Don’t you fucking give up on me, Ace,” Dover snapped, his
harsh tone reaching deep into her brain, combating the exhaustion. “I’m not
carrying your ass up this mountain.
Move
.”

She understood what he was doing. Didn’t mean her body had
anything left to offer. Spurred on by the urgency in his voice and sheer
determination, she forced herself to her feet and took a few stumbling steps
forward on shaky legs.

“That’s right,” Dover encouraged, moving backward along the
trail as he egged her on. “You’re tougher than that. You will
not
quit
. Hear me?”

No, she wouldn’t quit. She couldn’t. Her crew depended on her.
She had to be a leader, no matter how weak her body was. Her will had to be
stronger than the exhaustion, stronger than the fear. She took another step,
reaching out blindly in front of her to feel her way.

Dover’s gloved hand closed around hers, squeezed then tugged
her forward, toward him as he walked backward. “That’s it. Come on. We’ll do
this together. One step at a t—”

His voice cut off on a short yelp as he suddenly lurched to the
side, yanking her off-balance. She fell sideways, and he let go, slipping toward
the edge of the cliff. Her knees hit the ground with a jarring thud as her hands
managed to slightly cushion her fall before giving out beneath her. Dover’s
short scream ripped through her, sending a bolt of fear down her spine.
Fuck
!

She scrambled over, hands finding the edge of the trail where
he’d fallen. Peering over the edge, choking back the terror, she couldn’t see
him. “Dover! Dover, answer me!” Then she spotted him and her heart stopped.

His eyes were huge in his face, staring up at her. “Jesus,
help! Can’t...hold on,” he gritted out, dangling from an outcropping a few feet
below the edge. His voice was strained, slurred, as though he’d been hurt before
catching himself.

Dammit
. “Don’t move!” She shrugged
off the pack, the relief of the missing weight on her back barely registering
amidst her panic. She’d put one leg over the edge of the lip, ready to climb
down, when someone grabbed her shoulder and wrenched her back. She fell onto her
ass, elbows slamming into the ground.

“Stay here,” the soldier from the rear ordered curtly, then
eased carefully over the edge.

She rolled over, fear overriding everything else. Flat on her
belly, Candace peered anxiously over the edge while he climbed down to where
Dover hung. She couldn’t tell how far down he was, but it couldn’t be too
far—otherwise she’d never have seen him through the blinding snow. Above her she
could pick out voices of some of the others and footsteps as someone climbed
down to them. “Hold on,” she begged, fighting her terror and guilt. He never
would have fallen if he hadn’t been trying to help her. If she hadn’t been so
weak that he’d
needed
to help her.

“Can’t,” he wheezed back. “Fuck, I
can’t
!” The terror in his voice sliced through her gut.

“Don’t let go.” Her voice was husky with strain, her throat so
tight it was hard to breathe.

“I’ve got you,” she finally heard the other man say, and
Candace sagged in relief. “Can you get a foothold?” The wind kicked up a veil of
snow and she couldn’t see them, no matter how much she strained her eyes. “Need
some help down here!” he called up. Then, “Shit. No, don’t move. Don’t—”

Her blood turned to ice.

A second later Dover’s panicked, ear-splitting scream rent the
air. Eyes wide with horror, she distinctly heard the sound of a body hitting
rock and the painful, terrified cry as he plunged down the mountainside. Numb
with disbelief, with shock, Candace stared into the darkness with burning eyes,
her frozen fingers curled around the rock lip like claws. For a moment nothing
but the howl of the wind filled her ears.

Then the thud of boots vibrated through the rock beneath her
and two men rushed past, disappearing over the ledge. Dover couldn’t be gone.
Just couldn’t be. She tried to breathe, couldn’t get air through her throat. Her
body was shaking, nausea roiling in her gut.

Strong hands grabbed her shoulders, rolled her over onto her
back. In the near blackness she barely made out Ryan’s features as he leaned in
to put his face inches from hers. “Get up,” he said sharply. He dragged her to
her feet, reaching down to pick up the discarded ruck and put it on her. The
ground seemed to shift beneath her for a moment until he steadied her. God, she
was going to puke.

A thin sound of distress clawed its way out of her throat. Then
his hands curved around her face, forcing her to look at him. Making her focus
on him, despite her mind screaming that Dover had just fallen to his death.

Ryan’s voice was low. Calm. “Listen to me. You can’t help him
now.”

Dover
. Maybe he was still alive.
Those other soldiers were still down there. Maybe Dover had caught himself and
the soldiers would bring him back up. Her muscles jerked like someone was
running a low electrical current through her. “H-he fell—I couldn’t s-stop it. I
h-have to—”

Ryan shook her once, and when he spoke next his voice was hard
and icy as the air swirling around them. “You can’t help him, Ace. There’s
nothing you can do. The wounded need attention, and we all need to find shelter.
The enemy’s out here. We have to move, right now, and if I have to drag your ass
all the way up this mountain, I will. Now let’s go.” His hand closed around her
wrist in an implacable grip and he yanked her forward, dragging her away from
the spot where Dover had just fallen over the side of the mountain.

Because of her.

Chapter Eleven

Steeling his resolve, Ryan continued to drag Ace away
from the edge of the cliff, his heart still beating erratically as he thought of
how close she’d come to tumbling over that same spot. If her crew member hadn’t
let go of her, if she’d slipped a little farther or placed her feet wrong, she’d
have gone over with him.

He couldn’t have handled that. Merely thinking about it made
his blood pressure plummet. She mattered to him more than any other woman ever
had. He would not lose her.

Candace’s body was stiff and moving slow but he ignored her
resistance, forcing her steadily forward until they got to the next incline. He
was aware she had to be pretty much blind in the darkness without NVGs. He
paused long enough to set his hands on either side of hers on the rock, leaning
in to cut the wind and make her concentrate on his voice. It was imperative that
he keep her focused, keep her moving, not let her succumb to fatigue, despair
and grief. And he had to get her away from here before the rest of the guys came
back up with the body. When she saw that, it would kill her. If Ryan had to ride
her ass like the Lone Ranger all the way up this mountain, so be it. He had no
problem letting her think he was a heartless asshole right now if being pissed
at him gave her an added burst of strength.

He held out for all of ten seconds as he pushed her. Candace
didn’t argue or fight him, didn’t fall to pieces as many would have. Instead she
doggedly put one foot in front of the other, earning his undying admiration and
making something twist in his chest. “Just a little while longer and we’ll be
out of the storm,” he said next to her ear. He could feel her shivering but
wasn’t sure how much of that was from shock and how much was from the cold. She
was breathing in a rapid, shallow rhythm that worried him. The exertion had
taken a toll on her already and she had to be sweating because he was. It was
all too ironic. The extreme demand on their muscles staved off the cold by
increasing their core temperatures and blood flow, yet the sweat it created
increased the risk of hypothermia once they stopped moving.

He splayed a hand on the base of her spine, urging her forward
and up, fighting his own fatigue and shortness of breath from the thin air.
“Keep moving with me. One step at a time. I’m right behind you. You feel me?” He
leaned in close, letting his thighs press against hers, his arms touching hers,
offering comfort and some protection from the wind. Not much, but the best he
could do under the circumstances.

She nodded, a jerky, brittle movement that told him she was
still hanging on to her control.

“You and me. Just you and me, Ace. Come on.” He forced her up,
helping her place her shaking hands to gain her balance. To her credit, she
climbed, though Ryan was sure she was moving purely on autopilot. He honestly
didn’t care what drove her at this point—just that she kept going.

Staying close enough that his chest and thighs occasionally
brushed against her as they moved, he helped and protected her the only way he
could for the moment. Now that they’d cleared the valley walls, the wind gusts
were ferocious. They hugged the rock, keeping their faces down and averted to
shield them from the worst of the icy blast. Though she had to be running on
fumes, somehow Ace found the will to keep going.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Diamond Dave’s voice
came over the squad radio. “Found shelter four hundred meters to the northeast
of your position. Casualties need cover, and we can’t keep moving them in this.
We’re setting up here for the night.”

“Copy that.” He laid a hand on Candace’s shoulder and rubbed
firmly, brushing off the snow that had gathered on her jacket. “Almost there,
lady. Just a little more, okay?”

The panting breaths had turned to gasps and he could feel the
trembling in her muscles. She was at the end of her limit. Part of him was
surprised she’d lasted this long, considering all that had happened. His male
instincts demanded he get her to safety, then hold her as tight as he could for
as long as he could. “You hear me?”

Apparently past the ability to speak, she managed another
nod.

Ryan squeezed her shoulder and braced his hand next to her head
so she could hopefully see he was right next to her. “That’s my girl. We’re
close now.” He hoped his words penetrated some of the numbness he knew must be
enveloping her.

Moving inches at a time in some places, it took another twenty
minutes to make it up to where the sentry waited for them. Ryan forced his
rubbery legs to hold his weight as he reached down and grabbed Ace’s arm.
Hooking it over his shoulders, he wrapped his free arm around her waist,
allowing her to lean on him as he steered them through the tight mouth of the
cave the others had commandeered. No one had risked lighting a fire but with his
NVGs he could see where they’d settled the wounded near the back, as far away
from the raging wind as possible. Simply being out of the wind made him feel
instantly warmer, and all too aware of the dangerous film of cold sweat on his
skin.

He half carried Candace to the back and set her down next to
where Gonzales was working on one of the unconscious air crew. After dumping his
own ruck, he pulled hers off her shoulders and dropped it on the ground.

The medic looked up at them as she slumped onto her side,
struggling for breath. “She hurt?”

“Shock and exhaustion,” Ryan answered, bending to set her arm
around him again. “We need to get her warmed up, let her rest.”

Gonzales waved him toward the corner, where the uninjured air
crew members were huddled together to keep from freezing. “Get her over there.
Make sure her clothes are dry. No go on a warming fire yet, so we’ve got to make
do with what we have. I’ve already put all our Mylar blankets on the critically
wounded. Any other casualties?”

At the question Candace sucked in a sharp breath, the muscles
in her arm stiffening along his shoulders.

“Hang on,” Ryan muttered, not about to have this conversation
in front of her. Grabbing a spare moisture-wicking shirt from his ruck, he
pulled her up and walked her over to her crew, eased her down next to them.
Immediately one man reached for her and drew her into their midst to warm her,
talking to her in a quiet voice. She didn’t respond, making Ryan even more
concerned.

He handed the airman the clean shirt. “Get her innermost layer
off and dry her skin before you put this on her. She needs to get warmed up
ASAP.” In these mountains, cotton could kill if it absorbed moisture against the
skin and froze. Women might have a layer of subcutaneous fat that helped slow
the drop in core temperature in cold weather, but they also didn’t have the
muscle mass men did to help create more heat. He crouched down in front of
Candace, waited until she looked up into his face with glassy eyes. “I’ll be
back in a minute,” he said, pausing only long enough to catch her weary nod
before going back to Gonzales, still working on his patient. Ryan kneeled beside
him, barely recognizing Gillespie’s face in the darkness. “He still hanging
on?”

“So far. Need to get his core temp up if he’s going to have a
chance though.”

Without a fire or warm IV fluids, that was going to be tough to
do. “How’s Hawking?”

“Dead.”

Though he’d expected it, the news still made him close his eyes
as exhaustion settled on his shoulders. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” Gonzales brought the Mylar blanket up around
Gillespie’s chin and tucked it around him securely. “You were going to tell me
something about more casualties?”

Ryan lowered his voice to make sure it didn’t carry to the
others in the corner. “The aircraft commander fell over the side of a cliff
about thirty minutes ago. Some of the guys went after him, but even if they find
him I doubt he’d have survived the fall. She saw it happen.” And unfortunately
there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to erase or even ease that memory for her.
“I think she might be borderline hypothermic.”

Gonzales looked at where Candace huddled with her remaining
crew, awake but not really alert. “I’ll check on her in a bit.”

Though Ryan wanted to rush over there and haul her into his
arms, he held himself back. “What do you need me to do?”

Shaking his head, the other man blew out a weary breath.
“Whatever you can.”

Ryan pushed to his feet and grabbed a small med kit from his
ruck before making his way over to one of his teammates, who was changing a
pressure dressing on Patterson’s mangled arm. The weapons sergeant grunted and
swore, writhing against the pain. Going down on one knee, Ryan gripped the man’s
other hand tight, offering what help he could as their teammate pressed down
hard and tied off the bandage.

“Fucking sadist,” Patterson hissed between bared teeth, his
legs and torso moving restlessly. His fingers bit into Ryan’s hand so much the
bones squeezed together, probably to keep from screaming. The man was one tough
son of a bitch.

“Good thing, too,” the medic responded. “Otherwise you’d have
bled out on me about an hour ago. You know I can’t give you any more morphine
without risking a drop in your blood pressure. You’re gonna have to tough it
out, big guy. Want a stick to bite down on?”

Patterson grunted at the off-kilter humor, taking a few deep,
shaky breaths before batting Ryan’s hand away and scrubbing his own over his
pale, sweaty face. “How long we in here for, ya think?”

“Until morning at least,” Ryan answered, thinking of the
forecast and how fast the front had moved in. “Snow’s already six inches deep
and the temp’s below freezing even without the wind chill. Good news is, there’s
no way the bastards trying to track us can move in this either. The snow’ll help
cover our tracks so if we can head out as soon as the storm lets up, we should
be okay.” If they didn’t start taking cold casualties in the coming hours.

“I hate lying here like a useless pile of shit. Gimme my
sidearm at least.”

Ryan dug in the man’s gear someone had hauled up the mountain
for him and pulled out the 9 mm pistol, laying it in Patterson’s trembling hand.
Though he doubted the man would be able to fire it given his condition, if it
gave him a measure of comfort and made him feel less helpless, then that was all
that mattered. Anything that boosted confidence and morale right now was a good
thing. For all of them.

Try as he might to not think about her, he was all too aware of
Candace just a few yards behind him, battered and bruised inside and out. Did
she have any clue how badly he wanted to be the one holding her right now? Or
that he’d give anything to spare her from all this?

Voices outside the cave’s mouth made Ryan look up. Three
snow-covered men staggered in from the storm, carrying another, who appeared to
be either unconscious or dead. Ryan shot a dread-filled glance at Candace,
helpless to shield her from this horror and not wanting to watch her break under
the emotional strain. Because he was very afraid that’s exactly what was about
to happen.

* * *

Huddled amidst the remnants of her crew, Candace rubbed
her numb hands together in a futile effort to heat them. Her breathing had
stabilized for the most part, though her muscles felt heavy as lead.

“How you doing, Cap?” one of the gunners, Reynolds, asked,
rubbing his gloved hands up and down her arms.

She forced a nod, trying not to think about Dover. “B-better.”
They were all freezing, yet wrapped around her like a living blanket to offer
what little warmth they could. She didn’t want them worrying about her. As the
ranking officer now, it was her job to see to their comfort and welfare.

“Where’s Dover?”

Fuck. The guilt and grief welled up so fast it clamped her
throat shut. She swallowed with difficulty, searching for the best way to tell
them, and decided to say it straight out. “He fell over the s-side of the
t-trail. It was b-bad.”

A tense, stunned silence met her words.

Fighting to speak between her chattering teeth, she forced the
rest out before she lost control of her voice. “He’s g-gone,” she finished
hoarsely, throat and eyes burning.
And
it’s
my
fault
. Dear God, how was she going to tell his wife
and son what had happened? She bit down hard on her lips to stifle the sob
trying to rip its way free.

“Ah, shit.” Reynolds scrubbed a hand over his face.

Some of the others cursed under their breath, taking ragged
breaths as they assimilated the news.

Grateful for the darkness, Candace drew into a tighter ball and
focused on breathing in and out, in and out. Guilt was like a vise around her
lungs, slowly crushing them.

When a commotion near the cave’s mouth caught her attention,
she looked up. There was just enough light for her to make out the shape of
several men coming inside. They were carrying something.

Someone, she realized.

She was already on her feet without realizing it, stumbling
toward them. Dover. They’d found him. Was he alive? Hope flared up with a
painful swelling in her heart. “Dover?” Someone caught her elbow, maybe one of
her crew, but she shook them off, kept going. She had to see him. Had to do
something.

The men carrying him shuffled around toward the back, away from
the worst of the wind gusts at the cave’s mouth. The man at Dover’s head pulled
out a pen light as they set him down, and for the first time she saw her
aircraft commander’s face.

It was past pale. Almost gray from the cold, his lips a
frightening shade of blue. She dropped to her knees beside him, her gaze
immediately flying to his throat to check for a pulse. She didn’t see one.

“He’s unconscious,” one of the soldiers said quietly, shifting
out of the way to make room for the medic who’d appeared out of nowhere.