More shots. I cannot cover my ears. The chain between my wrists is too short.
The lowthump, thump, thumpof the vulture’s wings returns. No. Not a bird. A helicopter.
* * *
Nomar
“She’s on the roof,” Austin says in my ear.
I raise the binoculars in time to see one of Raziq’s men jerk Lisette to her feet and toss her over his shoulder. She struggles weakly as he disappears through a door to the house.
“Fuck. Not anymore.” Tossing the binoculars to Leo, I heft the Kestrel onto my shoulder. “Count it down, Sergeant.”
The SOG team leader’s focus is locked on the .50 caliber guns pointed right at us. “Thirty seconds.”
Austin, Griff, Leo, and Darius shoulder their packs.
“Four kilometers away,” Shapur says. He and his men are in an armored van barreling toward the house. Our backup if everything goes to shit.
Zephyr—and a couple of her friends—pilot one drone after another, driving them into the land mines surrounding the house. The explosions hid our approach for almost a full minute. But the gunners have spotted us now.
“Evasive maneuvers,” the pilot snaps.
The Blackhawk banks steeply, then straightens out. Austin takes aim at one of the shooters. “Hold steady!” He fires three shots. “One down.”
If I had any idea where Lisette and Mateen were, I’d send this rocket to the roof and take the rest of those fuckers out. But instead, I point the sights at the twelve-foot wall surrounding the house and pull the trigger.
With a loud whistle, the payload screams for its target.
“Ten seconds! Get ready to drop.” The man in black fatigues without a single insignia jerks his thumb toward the back of the beast. “Thank you for flying ‘We Were Never Here’ airlines. Take care with that first step. It’s a steep one.”
I toss him the rocket launcher and tug on the heavy welder’s gloves.
Leo and Darius toss thick, weighted ropes off the sides of the Blackhawk.
Here goes nothing.
Bracing my feet on the edge of the deck, I grip the rope loosely. Across from me, Austin mirrors my position.
“See you on the other side,” he says and jumps.
The rope slides through my loose grip, the ground racing up to meet my boots.
I tighten my fingers at the last minute. My body jerks. I jump the last four feet and pull my M4. A shot whizzes by my shoulder.
Tucking and rolling, I come up a dozen steps closer to the front door. Griff and Leo lay down cover fire until I get there. “Pritchard, tell me you’re in position.”
“On your mark,” comes the reply in my ear.
I slap a charge around the door handle and set the timer. “Ten seconds. Starting now.”
My boots slap against the hard-packed dirt as I book it around the corner of the house. Twin explosions shake the structure.
“Back door is down. Griff and I are going in,” Austin says.
Darius slams his back into the wall next to me. “What are you waiting for, Viper?”
I take off at a run. “Not a damn thing.”
