Page 23 of Hold On Through The Pain

“I can’t believe anyone with any brains would come here. This was a suicide trip if I’ve ever seen one. They were stupid for leaving the embassy compound and crazy for setting up here. Don’tthey know the area is a ticking time bomb?” He spat on the floor as anger filled him.

“Agreed,” Bishop said.

He glanced around at the terrified embassy workers. Were they pleased with their actions, or did they realized how much they’d messed up?

“We have a helicopter coming in,” Jackson said as he stepped closer.

“What about surface to air missiles?” Striker asked.

“Command said the SAMs were cleared,” Jackson added.

“I don’t feel right about it,” Bishop said.

Striker agreed with Bishop. “Something is off.”

“We have to get these people out. You have a better plan?” Jackson lifted his eyebrows and his lips turned down in a frown.

The tension grew, and Striker shifted from one foot to the other. His team was not happy these adults had left the safety of the American Embassy for some stupid team building activity in the middle of an unstable foreign country. His agitation grew as he thought the man who planned this had to be an idiot.

Striker forced himself to calm. He headed up to the room after twenty minutes of standing around. He was up higher than the rest of the buildings, but still, there were too many places for the enemy to hide. Add to it the thick forest circling thecompound, and they were up shit creek. If the other side got themselves together and attacked, this would be his end.

One hour passed, then another. His headset crackled, and Jackson’s spoke. “Chopper heading our way. Two minutes to intercept.”

Striker scanned the horizon, watching for any movement. After a few seconds, he picked up the helicopter in the distance. A buzz of excitement filtered through him. Then everything went to hell.

The surface to air missile site wasn’t disabled. The chopper went down in a burst of light. Jackson cursed over the earpiece. This was turning into a shit show in hell. No way everyone had survived on that chopper. Heck, he’d bet his next paycheck most were dead.

They were trapped, and he hated the odds stacked against them. He guessed they could work their way out, walking to an exfil location. Then the high whine of a bullet whizzing past had him dropping to the roof. Striker hid behind the parapet that wrapped around the top of the building.

“Shit.”

“What’s up, Striker?” Whitney asked over the headset.

“Someone is shooting at me.”

“Not good,” Bishop said. “I’ll head to the roof to help.”

“No, Bishop,” Whitney stated. “I need you on ateam heading to the far edge of the property. The guy in charge of the embassy just told me a family is stuck out in a building at the edge of the property and is afraid to come here.”

“Shit,” Striker said.

Bishop grunted but didn’t curse. “Sure thing, boss.”

“Striker stay in position,” Whitney commanded. “Hit anything that moves.”

“Yes, sir.”

He checked his equipment, making sure everything was in place. He had four cartridges ready. Tommy had brought along extra ammunition. If this went bad, they’d have to spend their downtime filling cartridges.

Gunfire erupted again.

They were up shit creek, and the enemy didn’t care what the rules of combat were supposed to be. As far as they were concerned, these men and women were complicit in the terror many in this nation lived through every day.

The sharp whine of a shell heading his way made Striker duck for cover. The missile missed the building but was too close. This was getting dangerous.

“Everyone. Downstairs. We’re moving,” Jackson yelled.

Striker grabbed his gun and shouldered his pack. He took off, running downstairs to catch upwith the other men. Their paramedic had stabilized the people who’d been shot, and they were ready to move.

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