Page 69 of Reclaimed (Hostage Rescue Team)

But no matter how many he and the others took out, more just kept on coming. “How many more are there?” he asked over the comms.

“Thirty or so that we know about, but there may be more hidden out of sight,” Tuck replied. “Everybody hang tight. Sniper team’s moving around to our eight o’clock.”

Yeah, but where the hell was the air support, and the other Blackhawk?

The first one couldn’t carry all of them out of here. They had to wait for the second to arrive before they could evacuate everyone and they were going to need some serious firepower to allow them to do that. The deteriorating viz was going to make that a challenge for the pilots, but staying here much longer was damn near suicidal.

The enemy was getting closer now. Close enough that Adam could see each individual scarf covering the lower part of their faces.

Someone on the sniper team announced their position, holding off and to the rear left. A bullet hit the ground not five feet in front of him and Bauer, pelted him with bits of rock. Adam squeezed the trigger and fired two consecutive shots, dropping the fighter in the lead.

But more appeared on the horizon.

We need to get the hell out of here.

He thought of Summer huddled under that blanket in the back of the helo, thought of the hell she’d already been through and a protective rage built inside him. He wanted her out of here now, safe from any further threats.

He’d just fired at another fighter when he finally heard it: the faint throb of rotors above and to the right. Sparing a quick glance in that direction, he made out the vague silhouette of another Blackhawk against the rust-brown sky. “Second ride’s here,” he reported to the others.

“Roger that. Fall back,” Tuck ordered.

The sniper team announced that they were headed for the second helo.

Adam got up and ran a few yards toward the first, then dropped to one knee and covered Bauer as he did the same. They leap-frogged their way back toward the waiting Blackhawk while the enemy kept gaining ground.

Sand struck the helo’s main and tail rotors, creating a glowing ring of sparks. Vance and Cruzie were directly beside the door now, Tuck and Evers only yards away.

Adam was halfway to them when the lead fighters in the advancing force began firing at the helo. Half a dozen rounds struck the tail, pinging off the metal in bright sparks of light.

Summer was in there.

On a rush of adrenaline Adam whirled and opened up on the enemy. They’d all spread out now, fanned across the open space as they charged toward Adam and the others. He sprayed out his shots while Bauer did the same, trying to mow down as many as possible and buy them time.

But as many as he shot, more took their place.

Bauer shouted at him over the din. “Let’s go, move!”

Adam turned and raced headlong for the Blackhawk while the rest of his team covered him and Bauer. He could see the sniper team doing the same at the second helo, saw more sparks fly as enemy bullets pinged off the metal body.

Then a new noise sounded over the chaos. Adam looked up in time to see the unmistakable outline of an Apache gunship burst out from behind the crest of the hill.

Yes!

It rose sharply overhead and immediately opened up its chain gun on the enemy force. He saw the muzzle flashes, heard the buzzing sound but didn’t look back.

Only when he was within a few strides of the open door did he look over his shoulder. Black-clad bodies lay strewn everywhere on the horizon, the Apache’s harvest.

He leapt aboard with Bauer right on his heels, his gaze immediately moving to the rear of the aircraft. Summer was still wrapped up in the blanket. He saw the flash of pure relief in her eyes when she saw him, and a tidal wave of emotion crashed over him. He climbed over Colebrook and Schroder to get to her.

Hunkering down beside her, he slung his weapon across his back and pulled her into his arms. “You okay?” he shouted over the sudden increase in volume as the Blackhawk’s engines powered up.

She nodded, face pressed into the side of his neck, her arms curled against his chest. “Just glad you’re safe.”

After all this, he should be saying that to her. “We’ll be outta here in a minute,” he told her, stroking a hand over the tangle of her hair, which was all crusty and smelled of smoke and gasoline.

He buried his nose in it and held her tight as the pilot rocketed the bird into the sky. After a few seconds he looked back, past his teammates and out the open door. As the Blackhawk banked to turn them toward Amman, he got his first clear view of the battlefield below.

There were at least forty bodies scattered over the ground that he could see, and another ten still moving around. All he knew was, he was damn glad to not still be down there.

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