Buck popped out, cutting a swath through the fern-choked undergrowth as Bodie lifted Wade — started hoofing it for the next massive spruce. A few bullets whizzed past, scattering any remaining birds as Bodie dragged Wade behind the trunk, Buck darting in a second later.
Sweat beaded Bodie’s brow, the exertion already taking a toll. Pain throbbed through his leg, a few of the metal fragments catching on his pants.
Buck returned fire, looked at Bodie out of the corner of his eye. “You should dress those wounds.”
“Later. If we’re still alive to worry about it.”
“Fog’s getting thicker, and it smells like rain. Storm’s moving in. But the added concealment goes both ways.”
“We’ll keep moving until we either run out of forest, or…”
They ran out of time.
He didn’t voice it, but Buck’s grim nod confirmed he’d gotten the message. They’d make their stand. Live or die by their code.
Another countdown and another gauntlet run for the next viable cover, boots kicking up needles and dirt — sliding in behind a dense nurse log as bullets cracked through the bark on the other side.
Wade groaned, dots of blood bleeding through the pressure dressing.
Buck added another layer as Bodie scanned the forest. Thick fog rolled across the ridge, deadening the usual echo of surf crashing against the cliffs a mile west. Salt hung heavy in the air, hints of smoke and burnt earth mixed in.
There.
Two men.
Moving in a low crouch just beyond a thicket of bramble. Tactical vests and gear layered over dark camo prints. They made a few hand signals, silently breaking right as two more appeared behind them, both flanking left.
Routine scouting mission his ass.
Sure, he’d expected they’d run into poachers or vandals — maybe an extremist cell building some kind of bunker in the dense blowdown. Nothing his teammates at Raven’s Security couldn’t handle. Not when they’d all spent years humping missions from one hellhole to another. Surviving ambushes and assault ops. Both Evan and Wade had been part of Bodie’s Ranger unit. And Buck, while a bit rattled from the car bomb that had ended his career, had been a Marine Raider, specializing in reconnaissance and ordinance deployments. But this…
This wasn’t a group of weekend warriors. These men were professionals, hunting with the disciplined rhythm of a single unit.
Buck shifted in beside Bodie. “We need to move.”
Bodie glanced over at Wade. “This is killing him.”
“Bullets’ll do it faster.” Buck checked his mag, switched it for another. What looked like his last. “You know who we need? Our resident sniper.”
Bodie snorted as he hiked Wade over his shoulder. “I told Dalton to go.”
“I know.” Buck motioned toward the trail. “You ready?”
He showed the countdown on one hand, then pelted the two flanks with quick, sharp trigger pulls, slashing through wood and dirt as Bodie raced for a branching path ahead on the right, firing off a few rounds to cover Buck’s retreat.
They hit the narrow trail half-dragging, half-carrying Wade, the man’s head lolled to one side. His boots caught on a root — tripped Bodie face-first into the mud, reigniting the fire in his leg as the shrapnel shifted, a few pieces digging in deeper.
Buck had Bodie’s arm a heartbeat later, yanking him to his feet before fisting Wade’s shirt — dragging him clear. Bushes rustled around them, glimpses of camo and black tactical garb moving in and out of the fog as the team closed in around them.
Bodie checked his ammo. “I’ve got one mag left for the carbine. Two for the Sig.”
Buck eyed him. “That’s three more than I’ve got. Down to my last few shots on both.”
“You carry. I’ll cover.”
Buck glanced at Bodie’s leg. “You sure you’re not already seeing double from the blood loss? We really need to patch that.”
“Later. And I’ll hit both targets.”
