Tactical Strike (18 page)

“Dizziness? Confusion?”

She had seemed unsteady on her feet, now that he thought about
it. “Yeah.”
Shit
.

“Nosebleeds?”

“Don’t think so.” Though that wasn’t necessarily an indicator
she wasn’t in danger.

Park checked his watch, frowned. “She’s been up here for around
ten hours now,” he said thoughtfully, the comment telling Ryan they were
wondering the exact same thing.

Dread curled its icy fingers around his stomach.
Nope
. He wouldn’t go there unless Park confirmed it.
Still, his heart rate increased at just the thought of hearing that diagnosis
from the medic’s lips. “Will you come check her?”

“Gimme a few minutes.”

Ryan got what he needed and returned to Candace, finding her
still curled on her side. Relief slid through him when he went to one knee next
to her head and her eyes focused on him. Reaching for his ruck, he dug through
it and came up with a protein bar. He tore it open with his teeth and handed it
to her, tugging a knit cap onto her head. “Here.”

She seemed to blanch even more, her lips pressing together as
she gave a short shake of her head. One gloved hand came up to ward him off.

He pushed it aside and slid a hand under her head to support
her. “Small bite. Come on, you have to eat something.”

Candace flung up a hand again to brush his away, but he ignored
her. Setting her head in his lap, he held the bar to her lips. With a reluctant
sigh she opened her mouth. He caught a flash of teeth as they sunk into the bar,
biting off barely enough to call a nibble. She chewed it slowly, that puckered
brow telling him she was in a lot more pain than she let on. Her throat worked
convulsively and she had to swallow several times to get it down. Ryan waited a
few moments before hauling out his CamelBak and offering her the tube. She made
a face but this time didn’t protest when he put it between her lips. A few tiny
swallows later he let her rest, waiting to see if it would settle.

When it appeared everything was going to stay down, he gave her
another bite of the protein bar. Then another, and another, until she’d finished
half of it.

The effort of eating even that much seemed to have drained the
remainder of her energy. Candace laid her head in his lap without a fight and
closed her eyes briefly.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” he murmured, stroking a hand
over the cap, trying to reassure her with his touch.

“Can’t s-sleep,” she protested. “W-wish I c-could.”

Unable to do anything more, Ryan sat with her and stroked her
head, her shoulder. Her breathing was faster than normal but the shivers had
lessened slightly since he’d put her in the bedroll.

Suddenly she reared up and clapped a hand over her mouth, her
expression pinched with panic. With a gagging noise that made his own stomach
roll, she jerked away, struggling to her knees while he tried to help, barely
making it away from the bedroll before she began to heave. In less than five
seconds after that she’d thrown up the little bit of food and water he’d managed
to get down her.

When it was over he set a steadying hand on her shoulder, his
heart clenching when she leaned into his touch like a child. “All done?”

“God,” she whispered miserably, wiping her mouth with the back
of a sleeve, her face clammy with perspiration. Wincing, she pressed a hand to
her forehead and allowed him to place her back on her side. He’d just tucked her
back in and was about to give her more water to rinse her mouth out when Park
came over.

“Not feeling so hot, huh?” he commented as he bent over
her.

Candace made an unhappy sound, not opening her eyes.

“How long have you had the headache?”

“F-few hours,” she managed, swallowing again, arms wrapped
around her middle.

He met Ryan’s gaze. “She’s coherent enough,” he said in a low
voice. “Could just be dehydration or exhaustion.”

“She said she can’t sleep.” That, combined with the other
symptoms, had his gut slowly winding into knots.

“We’ll watch her. Give her some ibuprofen for now,” he
instructed, handing Ryan three tablets, “and let her rest. She might feel better
in a while.”

And
if
she
doesn’t
? Ryan didn’t say it out loud, merely lifting
one eyebrow instead.

The medic shrugged, though his intent expression told Ryan he
was aware of everything Ryan
wasn’t
saying. “We’ll
have to wait and see.”

Yeah. And waiting fucking sucked. Altitude sickness was shitty
enough. The more critical forms of it...
Nope
.
Not
going
there
.

“I need you to take some pills for me,” Park said to Candace.
“Can you do that?”

Opening her eyes, Candace looked right at him and nodded once,
albeit reluctantly. She was obviously in a shitload of pain. Still, seeing her
so alert eased some of the tension inside him.

“Good. I’ll check on you in a bit.” To Ryan he said, “You
staying with her?”

“As long as I can. Forty-five minutes until my next watch.” Due
to the cold, they were taking thirty-minute watches, even though that felt like
forever out there in the wind chill.

“I’ll keep my eye on her when you leave. See if you can get her
warmed up some before you go.”

If Park suspected there was something more going on between
them he never let on, and as far as orders went, Ryan was dying to carry out
this one. He’d wanted to hold her all night, and finally had his chance.

As soon as Park left them Ryan gave her the tablets, one at a
time and a minute apart to ensure they stayed down. Then he eased down behind
her and pressed up tight against the bedroll surrounding her, tucking her firmly
into the curve of his larger body. He shivered lightly, his body temp falling
now that he wasn’t up moving around. In the quiet he could hear the faint clack
of her teeth as her jaw muscles shivered.

Sliding one arm beneath her head and the other along her waist,
Ryan held her close. “I’ve got you, Ace. Get some sleep now.”

“’K-kay,” she mumbled. Her eyes were closed, the frown lines
between them remaining. It felt good to know she trusted him enough to take care
of her.

Pushing aside the growing anxiety, Ryan let out a deep sigh. He
was too keyed up to sleep now and he wanted to make sure he kept monitoring her
before he had to go on watch. Shutting his eyes, he focused instead on the feel
of her curled against him. No point in getting worked up about a potential
threat until it happened. He just hoped to God her condition didn’t deteriorate.
The storm wasn’t as bad as it had been during the night, but it was still ugly
enough out there to make moving a large group damn near impossible.

If it came down to braving the elements to save her life,
however, he’d do whatever he had to. She mattered that much to him.

Wrapped around her, monitoring her rapid breaths, he offered
her his body heat, praying it would be enough.

It had to be enough.

Chapter Thirteen

“Any luck?”

At Diamond Dave’s question, Ryan suppressed a sound of
irritation and fiddled with the satellite phone for the three millionth time.
“Nope. Even if I could get through, I’d never hear them over this wind.”

The acting team leader squatted beside him in the little snow
cave he’d dug out to stop the wind. He peered at the patched equipment as though
it was a puzzle he could figure out if he stared at it long enough. Ryan wanted
to tell him not to bother wasting his time.

Dave squinted harder at it. “Nothing on the short range either.
The ANA guys can’t be too far away. They have to still be in range. With this
storm they’d have had to go to ground last night too.”

Ryan blew on his cold-reddened hands before tugging his gloves
on and tucking them beneath his armpits. With the temp as low as it was,
frostbite was a definite worry, and frostnip a certainty. At least the little
shelter helped him conserve most of his body heat. “Original forecast predicted
the wind would die down within twelve to sixteen hours of the front’s
arrival.”

“Let’s hope it’s right. We need to
move
. Short of leaving everyone else here to fend for themselves,
though, we’re screwed.”

Ryan understood his disquiet. Holed up in a cave for this long
with the enemy out there somewhere was bad enough for an SF team. Being stuck
there longer because of wounded and an additional entourage of airmen was worse.
Hiking through two feet of snow in whiteout conditions, extracting wounded and
guiding the air crew over this rough terrain was flat-out asking for more
deaths.

“Try the ANA frequency again,” Dave ordered.

Ryan tweaked the equipment and made another attempt. “Eagle
one-three-eight, this is Jackal seven. Do you read? Over.” Static.

He tried again.

This time something other than static came back.

Reaching out, he adjusted the direction of the antenna, trying
to get a better signal. “This is Jackal seven. Do you read? Over.”

A crackle. Then a squawk. “We read you, Jackal seven,” came a
heavily accented voice.

Dave grabbed it from him and slapped him on the shoulder,
motioning urgently in the direction of the cave. “Get me the interpreter.”

Ryan rolled to his feet and exited the tiny snow shelter. The
wind whistled in his ears, finding every less-insulated place in his clothing
and going right for his skin. He followed his tracks in the snow at a run. It
wasn’t snowing now but the wind swept up drifts on the ground, obscuring his
vision. Only by retracing the boot prints in the snow was he able to find the
cave so quickly. Answering the sentry’s challenge, he kept running until he made
it into the mouth.

Scanning the dim interior, he noted Candace lying on her side,
still awake, and the interpreter near the back helping the air crew change
Gillespie’s bandages. “Gul.”

The man’s head snapped up. Taking one look at him, the slender
Afghan interpreter leaped to his feet and rushed over.

“Put on your cap and come with me,” Ryan said.

Though he was prepared for it, stepping out into the wind still
took away his breath for a moment. “We’ve contacted the ANA team. We need you to
translate,” he said over the high-pitched whine.

Gul stumbled in his wake but kept up.

They squeezed into the shelter alongside Dave, the three of
them tangled together to stay out of the wind so they could hear what was said
on the other end of the radio.

Dave thrust it at Gul. “Get their status and coordinates.”

Gul did, reciting the information back in English, while Ryan
and Dave scribbled it down and pulled a map out to study.

Ryan unrolled it, scanning a region to their southwest.
“There,” he said, tapping his finger on a spot about three miles from the
Russian airstrip.

“Any enemy contact or sightings?” Dave asked Gul, who repeated
it over the radio.

When the answer came back, Gul shook his head. “They don’t know
where the enemy is. They think most of them must have frozen.”

Dave and Ryan looked at each other. “Yeah, right,” Dave
muttered. “The fuckers are probably born with antifreeze in their blood.”
Studying the map again for a few moments, he nodded. “Tell them to keep this
channel open. We’ll contact them as soon as the wind dies down, then move to
them.”

Gul relayed the command and got the confirmation. Ryan quickly
packed up the gear and hefted his enormous ruck onto his back, his thighs
straining under the initial shock of the load.

“It’s almost eleven hundred now,” Dave continued as they
hurried back to the cave. “Have everyone ready to move by twenty-two hundred,
just in case.”

But when they got to the cave Ryan stopped in his tracks just
inside the entrance. Candace was half sitting up, two of her crew members
supporting her—or maybe restraining her. Park was crouched in front of her,
saying something, holding her face. The medic glanced up at him, and what Ryan
saw in the other man’s eyes made the bottom of his stomach fall out. Dropping
his ruck near the wall, he rushed over.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, all but shoving Park out of the
way. Instinct made him reach for Candace, cradle her face between his own hands.
Her eyes were open but glazed, unfocused. Staring at nothing.
Shit
. She’d deteriorated this much in the thirty-plus
minutes he’d been gone? “Candace? Candace, look at me.” To hell with protocol
and regulations. The others could come to their own conclusions about his
relationship with her and then go screw themselves.

She stilled her restless movements and blinked twice before
focusing on him slowly, frowning as though confused or having trouble
concentrating.

“She’s been like this for the past twenty minutes or so,” one
of the airmen said. “Ever since she woke up from that last cat nap.”

Fucking
hell
. Ryan leaned in closer to get her attention,
struggling to keep the panic at bay. “Candace, do you know where you are?”

The frown deepened, and he wasn’t even sure she recognized him
at the moment.

“Hey, say something. When’s your birthday?”

She tried to pull away from his grasp, but when she raised her
hands to push his hands from her face, the movement was slow and so
uncoordinated that she missed. “M-May...”

Her speech was way too slurred for his liking. “May what?”

It took her several long, agonizing seconds before she
responded. “S-sixthhh,” she finally managed, looking annoyed now. She tried to
turn her head to dislodge him, but Ryan refused to let go. An irritated growl
came from her throat. “S-ssstop.”

No way in hell. “What’s your commanding officer’s name?”

Again she batted at his hands, this time making contact.
“D-dunno. S-ssstop.” When he still didn’t release her, her movements became
increasingly erratic.

Ryan hauled her to her feet, steadying her when she wobbled
precariously. “Can you walk in a line?”

Rather than answer, she bent her knees and began to sink like
she intended to lie down again.

“No,” he said firmly. “Stand up.” He dragged her to a standing
position, determined to get through to her.

Park tried this time. “Ma’am, we need you to walk for us. Can
you do that? Just a little ways.”

Issuing something close to a growl, Candace huffed out a breath
and took a step, her jaw set resolutely.

“In a straight line,” Park added, staying at her side as he and
Ryan flanked her in case she fell. “Heel to toe.”

She seemed to move in slow motion, as if she couldn’t get her
limbs to obey her. And when she tried those first heel-to-toe steps, she lasted
only a split second before staggering and pitching to one side. “N-no,” she
managed, dropping in their grip. “Tired. H-hurts.” She shut her eyes and winced
as though she was suffering from the mother of all headaches.

Oh
,
Jesus
. Fear slithered in Ryan’s gut as he gently lowered her back to
the bedroll. “It’s okay. Rest for a bit.” Looking at her crumpled form lying at
his feet, he barely stopped himself from running a hand over his face in
agitation.

Without releasing her arm, Ryan tipped his head back to meet
Park’s gaze and spoke his worst fear aloud. “Is it HACE?”

“Looks like.”

Jesus
Christ
. “Is there a Gamow Bag close by? I can get
it—”

“You’d never get to the FOB and back in time.”

“Why the hell don’t we have one with us?”

The medic shrugged, his expression maddeningly calm. “All of us
took Diamox before the mission, so we decided not to take one with us. Never
expected to have to look after an unacclimated air crew up here.”

Ryan’s heart was beating double time, beads of cold sweat
breaking out along his spine and across his forehead. What the fuck were they
going to do now? He refused to stand by and watch Candace go into a coma, maybe
even die.

Lunging over to grab the nearest airman by the shoulder, he
made sure his expression told the man exactly how urgent the situation was
without having to say anything that might frighten Candace if she overheard.
“Stay with her. We’ll be right back.” With that, he took Park’s arm and all but
dragged him over to where Diamond Dave was going over another map with
Kawaleski. “Sir, we’ve got an emergency.”

The team leader looked up from the map, frowned. “What
now?”

“Captain Bradford has severe altitude sickness. We think she’s
starting to show signs of HACE.”

Diamond Dave looked at Park for confirmation. The medic nodded.
Dave glanced over his shoulder at her, where the two airmen beside her watched
them anxiously. “So we have to get her to a lower altitude?”

“Yes,” Park answered.

“How long do we have?”

“An hour or two. Maybe more.”

Maybe
less
. The unspoken words hung in the cold, still air
as Park and Dave looked at each other, their dilemma clear.

Ryan held his breath as the sense of dread swelled higher and
higher. If they didn’t descend immediately, the swelling in Candace’s brain
would increase until the intracranial pressure killed her. But moving everyone
in this weather was too dangerous. Park and Gonzales were both still needed here
with the other casualties. It was well within Dave’s right to refuse to risk an
evacuation. His responsibility was to the team as a whole, and the rest of the
air crew. Candace was only one life among many.

The team leader’s gaze was somber as he looked at Ryan.

He was going to say no. Ryan knew it in his gut, saw it in the
officer’s face. The tension spiraled up, straining the limits of his control
until he couldn’t handle it. In desperation, he blurted out the only thing he
could say. “Sir, I’ll take her down myself. I’ll move her to a safer altitude
and wait for you there.”

Dave’s gaze sharpened on him. “I need you and your equipment
here, Sergeant.”

Fuck
. “I’ll leave the sat radio for
Schroeder to contact the ANA team.”

The commander’s eyes held understanding and regret. “I realize
we all feel protective of Captain Bradford, Went. But at this point, you leaving
puts us all at a huge risk.”

Ryan’s lungs constricted. Jesus, if he had to beg for the
chance to save her life, he’d do it. This had nothing to do with Candace being a
woman and everything to do with her being the woman he’d fallen in love with.
And he didn’t care if the commander knew it.

Thankfully, Dave didn’t reprimand him or make him beg. “All
right,” he finally relented with a weary sigh. “Kawaleski’ll go with you.” He
thrust the map into Ryan’s hands. “Take her down as far as you need to, update
me and we’ll rendezvous with you as soon as we can move everyone outta
here.”

“Yes, sir.” Ryan spun and raced back for Candace. Right now she
was a ticking time bomb. He couldn’t get her down the mountain fast enough.

* * *

Yanked from the disorienting fog engulfing her, Candace
jerked when strong hands curled around her upper arms and lifted her into a
sitting position. She curled her numb fingers around someone’s wrist in an
attempt to pull them off, but the person didn’t budge. The viselike pressure
around her skull tightened with each movement. Being raised up and propped over
someone’s shoulders with her head pointed down was too much to bear. She kicked
and shoved, just wanting to be left alone, to huddle in misery and pray the pain
would stop. Ignoring her struggles, the man holding her began walking. Slitting
her eyes open, she squinted as the light began to increase. A sharp gust of wind
snatched her breath for a moment. Then she snarled and reared up.

“
Stop
it, Ace.”

The stern tone surprised her so much she went still for a
moment. Though the voice was familiar, she couldn’t place who was carrying
her.

He shifted her across his shoulders, getting a better grip. “We
have to get you down the mountain. Right now. Fighting me’s only gonna make it
worse.”

She
knew
that voice, but her brain
was too hazy to process it. The authoritative command in his tone told her there
was no point in arguing or fighting. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she
shut her eyes and focused on breathing in and out. Someone else was with them. A
man. She could hear the two of them speaking but couldn’t focus on what was
being said. The urgency in their words registered briefly then was lost to the
biting wind and the pain that fractured through her skull each time the man
carrying her took a step, bouncing her on his shoulders.

Unable to move, to surface through whatever was keeping her
under, she could only endure. A few times she must have blacked out. Trapped in
a haze of pain and confusion, time lost all sense of meaning. Her existence
became narrowed down to forcing air in and out of her aching lungs, swallowing
back the bile each time she gagged when the pressure in her skull became too
much. She was vaguely aware that the men took turns carrying her, pausing
briefly every so often to transfer her. Lost in her battle to stay conscious,
she could only moan a protest when another hard shoulder dug into her belly and
her head swung down in a nauseating arc. Her numbed fingers clawed weakly at the
back of the man’s jacket.