Page 35 of Evening Shadows

“Roger,” Doc responded.

He felt better that Cody would be safe and he and Sam would have someone to help rescue them should they be captured. Should they be killed, well….

Without realizing what lay ahead, they burst through the bushes into an open area that left them vulnerable. Sam halted and looked around. “Shit. We’ve gotta move fast across this. Can you do it?”

“I want to survive, so I’ll do anything needed.” A fear he hadn’t known in a long time gripped his gut. The first men had meant to kill them. Why would this group be any different? As much as he didn’t want to be a captive, he’d prefer that to death.

A small smile played on her lips before she went all commando on him again.

“Let’s move,” she instructed.

“Wait.”

She looked at him with an impatient expression.

“Earpiece,” he breathed in pain. In cases where they were captured or killed, giving the enemy access to their communications was utterly unacceptable, because it could impede operations and put lives at risk. While he hated allowing himself to go blind, it had to be done. They’d keep their mics for now to relay information. The team had only a single earpiece that worked to transmit and receive, but their full shipment hadn’t arrived in time to depart, so he and Sam, being further from the action, took the more cumbersome models. Now, he was glad they had as it gave him a bit more time to communicate, albeit one-way.

Sam leaned away, and they both removed their wireless earpieces. Gesturing to the spot before her, he dropped his, and she stomped on it with her booted foot. Devon would be disappointed to lose these pieces. They also removed the SIM cards from their phones. He hated to destroy them, but they might not have another chance before they lost the equipment.

“We’re going together,” Sam stated matter-of-factly. “Toss your arm over my shoulder.” He did so and she wrapped her arm around his waist. If things weren’t as dire as they were, he’d relish her arm around him. Trying not to shift his weight too much on her, they moved to safety.

Twenty feet into the clearing, his fear came true. His body tensed and his stomach dropped. Fear for Sam gripped him, holding tight enough to suffocate him. His heart hurt.

The threat moved in from two sides—twelve o’clock and six o’clock. Sam shifted them sideways so they could see both groups, and he groaned with the pain it caused. He really could use Doc right now.

He didn’t know much about Casper, Bravo Team’s new medic, but Doc kicked butt as a medic and warrior, even though he’d been a SEAL instead of the elite Army Rangers. If things hadn’t been as dire as they were, he’d have laughed at that and maybe even over the air.

Taking a deep breath in an effort to control the throbbing, achy fire that wanted to tear his leg apart, he made a decision that impacted his heart. As much as he didn’t wish it so, this could be the end, and he refused to die without telling her the truth. “I love you, Sam. I always have.”

With time of the essence, he didn’t allow her to respond before he announced into his mic, “Sugar’s team down. Switch to channel Charlie,” since he didn’t expect the response from her he desired. As for the team, they’d check in on the alternate channel and continue with their op, knowing comms had been compromised.

“Drop weapons. Where boy?” a short, stout Hispanic man asked with a heavy accent. When they didn’t answer, he asked something that froze the blood in his veins, “You Ken Patrick?”

His breath caught and his racing pulse froze in his veins. How did they know him? Damn Beverly. She’d given them away. With his ponytail, it hadn’t been hard to identify him. Yet telling them the truth gave him a fifty-fifty chance of survival. Telling them a lie did the same thing. With Sam’s life to consider, his decisions became even more difficult.

Sam twisted them to get a better view of the man and it took everything not to cry out.

No bones about it. They were truly outnumbered. Two to… he glanced and counted… eight.

When Sam spun again, his leg buckled and he pulled them to the ground. Oh, he wished she wasn’t here. He reached and cupped her cheek ever so lightly, wondering if this would be the last he saw her. From the fierce look in her eyes, she’d pull everything she had for them to escape this group.

When the stout man took a step toward them, Sam spun as fast as lightning, and on her back, aimed her M4 at the man.

“Drop weapons,” the man insisted.

Sam slid a small, quick glance at him in answer. With the realization they had no choice—if they wanted to live at least for the next five minutes—Ken gave her a brief nod. They each tried to hold onto any weapon they could, but the men who stepped forward and searched them even found the smaller knives they kept in their boots. As expected, they took the comm systems—or what they’d left of them. After a moment of confusion, since they didn’t find a receiver with them, they checked their ears which told him their boss held his own secrets of protection.

He hoped Sam had a weapon tucked away where these assholes couldn’t find it. If he could gain his feet, they could make some headway.

The stout man became impatient. “Now, where boy?”

“Safe” was all Ken said as he glared at the man. Cody had been their priority and he wouldn’t give him up, even for his own life.

The man narrowed his eyes but didn’t question him further. Instead, he asked again, “You Ken Patrick?”

Curious, but not stupid about the fact they knew his name, he chose not to hold back any longer. He nodded before answering, “I am.”

With a nod, the man waved him forward and pointed at Sam. “You come too.”

---