Page 58 of Reclaimed (Hostage Rescue Team)

They were going to douse her and the others with gas then set them on fire and film them while they burned alive.

Summer’s heart lodged halfway up her throat as she watched Hadad position himself next to the camera his men had set up on the tripod. He stood with his feet braced apart and arms folded across his chest, his expression completely impassive while one of his men reached for another can of gasoline and started toward the cage Mark was in.

“No,”she cried, her entire body numb, bloodless fingers clamped around the cold iron bars, her mind refusing to accept what was happening right in front of her.

Except it was. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Mark scrambled to his feet and pressed back against the rear of his cage, his only option. They’d removed his hood too, and unbound his hands and feet.

So he could see exactly what was coming. Soallof them could see what was coming.

“Fuckinganimals,” she screamed at them, yanking futilely on the bars holding her prisoner.

Mark yelled out something and shielded his face with his arms as the fighter stopped in front of his cage and began splashing the gasoline through the bars. It hit Mark’s head and arms, soaked his torso and legs, darkening the orange jumpsuit.

No. No, please, she begged, praying with all her might. This couldn’t happen. It was beyond cruel.

Hadad didn’t move from his position, watching everything with a closed expression and his arms crossed over his chest. Another man stood behind the camera, capturing every moment on film.

“Don’t!” Mark shouted, shaking his head as he cowered in the corner of his cage, eyes wide with a terror she could feel from the other end of the building. “For God’s sake, no!”

“Stop!” she yelled, enraged, shaking all over. “Let him go, you fuckingevilassholes!”

No one even glanced her way at the outburst. And then, before she could utter another word, another fighter stepped up, lit a match and tossed it inside.

The gas ignited with an audible whoosh, completely engulfing Mark in flames.

****

The steady beat of the Blackhawk’s rotors pulsed against Adam’s ears as they flew through the pre-dawn darkness toward their target. Cold air rushed in the open doors, his NVGs giving him a spotty view through the storm of the hilly terrain below.

Visibility was decreasing fast. They had a short window to work with before the worst of the sandstorm hit. The helo could fly in it but the pilots would have a hell of a time navigating even with the advanced avionics.

Adam wasn’t worried about the extraction window. The only one he cared about was the one that was rapidly closing in on the deadline that would mark the end of Summer’s life. He was desperate to get to her before that. He’d do fucking anything to save her, wished he could trade places with her.

The Jordanian pilot’s voice came through the headset, his English perfect. “Two minutes to LZ.”

To maximize the element of surprise, they had to insert about a mile from the village, and hump it in on foot. Not ideal but the last thing they wanted to do was risk the hostages’ lives by alerting the captors to their presence and the Blackhawk’s powerful twin engines weren’t exactly quiet. And this way the noise of the wind would help disguise their arrival as well.

The guys all checked their gear one last time and settled back to wait the final seconds. They flew over the landing zone once, to ensure it was clear of enemy fighters, even though the sniper team on the ground had already reported the area was safe.

Circling back, the pilots lowered into a hover. When Colebrook’s voice came through their comms announcing the perimeter was secure, Tuck led the way off the helo.

Adam jumped out after Vance and raced for the ridge that ran along the top of the valley below the village they needed to get to. Sand and grit scoured his face but his goggles protected his eyes. He had a clear view of his team as they rushed across the LZ and met up with Colebrook and his spotter.

The dark-haired agent waited near the ridge, close to where his spotter lay prone on the rocky ground, his gaze trained through his binos at the village above. “Three guards keep circling the perimeter,” Colebrook told them. “Except for one guy, nobody else has come in or out of any of the buildings since we’ve been here. There’s another group of fighters lower down in the valley,” he added, pointing his thumb behind them. “They haven’t moved yet but we’re keeping an eye on them.”

Adam glanced at his watch. They had less than two minutes to infiltrate the village and storm the main building to free the hostages before the deadline hit. There was no way that was going to happen. He was strung tight, every muscle in his body locked, frantic to get moving.

“We need you guys to provide overwatch while we get in position,” Tuck told Colebrook. “On my signal, take out the guards. Then we’ll handle the breach.”

“You got it,” the sniper team leader replied instantly, then got on comms and informed his guys of what was going to happen. Colebrook looked back at Tuck a few moments later and nodded once, his hazel eyes intense. “We’re ready. Go get ‘em.”

Tuck waved them forward. “Let’s haul ass.”

Adam swung into line behind Vance’s big frame as the assault team headed up the ridge. The climb was steep, their boots slipping as they clambered up over loose rock and dirt while the wind gusted around them. They stayed off the footpaths worn into the hill, where the enemy would be watching. At the top, they paused as Tuck and Cruzie took stock.

“Forty yards to the target building,” Tuck murmured over the comm. “Stand by.” He waited a few seconds, then signaled Colebrook.

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