Page 29 of D-Day

“All call signs be aware. The fighting is getting terribly close to their location. You need to get them out A-SAP. A chopper is on the way.”

Joker’s voice followed the silence of Bailee’s. “We’re at the rendezvous point. What is your ETA?”

“Under a minute,” D-Day responded. He worked at remaining calm, his gut clenching at the thought of Helen’s life in jeopardy, but no matter how he tried, that thought was followed by a swift kick of anger.

He slowed his approach. The dark outline of the road was clear except for the stationary van and the dead men lining the side of the road just in front of the vehicle. He could see drag marks in the rutted dirt. “We’re in position,” D-Day said into his comm, and Joker acknowledged as he scanned for Helen, his heart in his throat, sharp disappointment cutting through him. “Stay put. They only know you three as gunrunners, and let it stay that way.”

“Copy that,” D-Day said. Suspended on a wave of apprehension, he gritted his teeth.

“Dr. Aquino?” Joker called. A small, thin Filipino man came around the van, peering into the jungle where they were obscured by the thick foliage. His hands, shirt, and pants were bloody in places, and after another glance at the bodies, it lookedlike they had tried to give their would-be kidnappers medical treatment.

“I’m Dr. Aquino. Who are you?” he asked, caution and hope in his voice.

“US military,” Joker said as they all converged on the three huddled figures.

“Helen and Dr. Matthews are missing,” D-Day growled, now sure that Helen wasn’t with the other medical personnel near the back of the van. Everything went haywire inside him, and he shifted as adrenaline shot into his system. He wanted to be on the go. He wanted to be out there after Helen, get to her before something terrible happened.

He thought about her family. Her great dad, who always pretended not to like him, her sweet mom, who had been so determined on the phone that he was going to come back to the ranch for the holidays, Daisy, Cole, and Wyatt. They would all be devastated. How would they all feel if he and Buck failed to get to Helen in time? He could barely breathe around the agony of that thought.

“Where is Miss Buckard and Dr. Matthews?” Joker asked.

“Those warlords…the twin ones took them,” Monique said desperately. “You have to find them.”

“One of them got shot by those thugs, and they needed them to patch him up. He was bleeding pretty badly,” Dr. Aquino said.

“Where did they take them?”

He turned and pointed to the jungle. “They left about fifteen minutes ago.” Before Joker gave him the go ahead, D-Day was moving, the decision made in a split second, and Buck and Zorro had no choice but to keep up with him. Joker turned slightly and said into the comms. “Get them back here as quickly as possible. This is about to be a hot LZ.”

“Copy,” D-Day said on the run. The trail was easy to follow with the footprints and broken plants. This area was pretty muchuninhabited, the setting sun turning the area bright orange-gold. They hurried through a thick line of trees, sensing the troops all over the place, spreading out in the jungle, combing it for NPA. And if they were searching for NPA, they couldn’t be too far away.

As night fell, they crested the ridge and burst onto flatter land. They paused long enough to pick up the trail again, then ran for a half mile without stopping, bashing through the jungle.

Gunfire erupted and D-Day, Buck, and Zorro took cover. The unseen shooters weren’t firing at them but at each other, and if the three of them were caught in the crossfire…had Helen and Greg been caught too?”

Rain started to fall as the exchange of gunfire faded, soft at first, then harder, drenching them. The pounding obscured a lot of the noise, so they waited a few moments to move, impatience slicing through D-Day. That’s when he heard the moan of pain.

Water dripping off his hair and chin, he glanced toward the noise. Then the gunfire suddenly stopped, and his attention diverted back to the bigger threat. The moan came again.

He moved carefully toward the sound, then discovered a prone man. “Guys. Body,” he said into the comms.

He cautiously approached. His muzzle pointed at the still figure. Dropping down beside him in a squat, he rolled him over. Greg Matthews.

Zorro reached them and slid to his knees, assessing the damage. “He’s lost a lot of blood,” he murmured, starting to dig into his medical bag. Greg’s hand stopped him, as he swallowed hard, his face contorting into pain and confusion. “Who are you guys? I thought?—”

“We’re not who you think we are. Where is Helen?”

“He needs medical attention,” Zorro persisted, while Buck got on the radio and let TOC know they’d found Greg Matthews and that he was wounded, not likely to make it.

Greg smiled softly. “She said SEALs would come for us.” Greg shook his head, his breathing heavy with a wheeze on each breath. “It’s too late for me…Helen…get to her.” His hand curled around D-Day’s vest in desperation. “Taer is mortally wounded, and if he dies, Lando threatened to kill us both.” The words slammed through D-Day’s mind like a brutal sledgehammer. “He’s got maybe two days to live. Please, save her.” He swallowed again, water sliding down his temples, and D-Day wasn’t sure if it was the rain or his tears. He closed his eyes hard, then opened them. His breathing was even more labored, the wheeze terrible, telling them he was fighting for air. “I had to hang on for her. For you to find her.” He took another slower, softer breath. “Tell her that I’m sorry.”

His last breath rushed out and he was still. Zorro swore, reached out, and closed his staring eyes as he tried to ignore the apprehension spreading through him. He wasted no time. Jerking to his feet, he started looking for the trail in the dark, rainy jungle. Footprints were hard to see, but it was clear which way they went. He took three steps.

Bailee’s voice came over the comms. “All call signs. The government troops say they can’t guarantee anyone’s security. They want all of you out of that jungle now. No arguments, but if you do come across the troops, the safe word is, ‘kaibigan.’ It means friend.”

That directive was followed by one that was even firmer. “You heard the lady. D-Day, Buck, and Zorro, did you copy? I want you back here for exfil in five.”

Zorro reached for his radio and D-Day grabbed his arm. “Don’t respond to that.”

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