Page 79 of Duty Bound

“Sure.” Stitch glanced over at him. “Looks like it.”

He coughed and held his ribcage. “I’ve had worse.”

Stitch shook his head.

“To be honest, I was expecting more of a beating, but they didn’t realize I was Special Forces.”

“Not yet,” Stitch said grimly, checking the rearview mirror.

Blade nodded. “Yeah.”

A cacophony of sirens wailed in the distance. They were coming.

“We’ve gotta get this car off the road,” Blade muttered.

Stitch ground his jaw. “I know that. I’ve got a plan.” He floored it down the Kabul road, swung hard into the rest-area, then parked behind the fruit store.

Blade, unable to move, watched as Stitch jumped out, approached a man with a shitty Toyota—literally the worst car in the spot—then offered to do a swap.

The man stared at him, like he was nuts.

Stitch gestured with his hand, urgent and impassioned. The dust hadn’t even settled around the Land Rover yet.

With a sly grin, the man agreed. Stitch handed him the keys, raced back to the SUV and helped Blade get out.

Once they were firmly in the Toyota, Stitch took off out of there, passing a swarm of police vehicles racing in.

Blade ducked, breathing hard from the effort, as Stitch laughed and turned onto the Kabul road. The move wouldn’t stall them for long, but it would buy them some time.

“I told him not to say anything,” Stitch murmured, checking the mirrors again. No cop cars were giving chase.

The road behind them was blissfully silent.

“You think he will?”

“Maybe. No one wants to mess with the Taliban-run police force. He’ll know it’s not in his best interests to keep quiet. But by the time they figure out we’ve switched cars, we’ll be somewhere safe.”

“Safe?” Blade glanced over. He was wheezing heavily now. “Aren’t we going to Kabul? They’re just going to put up another roadblock on the outskirts of the city.”

“No, my friend. We are not going to Kabul. That would be suicide.”

He leaned back against the headrest. “Then where are we going?”

“Somewhere I can take a look at that broken rib, and every other part of you they’ve kicked to shit.”

“I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are.”

“I just need to sleep.” He started drifting off.

“Wake up, Blade.” Stitch tapped him on the leg.

“Huh?”

“Can’t sleep yet, buddy. Not with that concussion.”

“Fuck off,” he growled.

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