Page 73 of Stand Fast

The tunnel seemed to go on forever, twisting and snaking its way through the mountain. It narrowed even further ahead, and for a moment he feared he was trapped in this subterranean warren. Then it widened once more, and a few minutes later the air turned cool and crisp. The exit was somewhere close by, just out of sight.

Behind him, something scuffed along the tunnel, the eerie echo of footsteps disturbing the loose rock on the ground sending a shiver up his spine. Then the tunnel behind him lit up with the faint glow of a distant flashlight beam.

Whoever it was had the advantage of sight, and was getting closer with each second.

Fahim pushed himself to go faster, turned left with the tunnel, then it began to rise toward the surface. Moments later he glimpsed a slight brightening ahead in the darkness. The dry, dusty scent of the tunnel gave way to fresh, cold air. Freedom lay just ahead.

Almost there.

All he had to do was make it through to the other side, contact his pilot, and get to the new rendezvous point. He drew his sidearm, ready to fire at anyone waiting for him on the other side. His heart slammed harder against his ribs, hope giving him an added rush of speed as he burst free of the confining rock walls and out into the open.

Only to find himself on the sheer edge of a cliff that plunged hundreds of feet into the darkness below.

He gasped and instinctively flattened his back against the cool, jagged rock that had protected him up until a moment ago and now threatened to send him to his death. He’d forgotten how sheer the cliff edge was.

Frantic to escape, he darted a glance left then right, searching for a place to run to. But the trail here was dangerously narrow and he could barely make out the shape of the terrain in the darkness. One wrong step and he would plunge into the yawning abyss below.

He had no choice except to go forward, however. He couldn’t stay here another moment.

With grim determination he turned left and started up the trail, setting one hand against the side of the mountain and leaning his weight into it. Wind gusted around him, tugging at his uniform with cold fingers, as if trying to pluck him into the gorge below.

His boots slipped on some loose shale. Terror ripped through him as he slid precariously toward the edge of the trail. He dropped his pistol and gripped at a piece of rock jutting out from the wall of granite and clung, straining with all his might to pull his body upright. Just as he gained his footing once more, movement from behind him made his heart seem to stop beating.

“Stop and put your hands up!”

At the sharp, Dari command he whipped his head around to look behind him, his heart thudding in his ears. Squinting in the darkness, he focused on the man standing at the tunnel exit.

A FAST Bravo member.

Khan.

The man stood there alone, his weapon pointed dead center mass at Fahim’s chest, poised and ready to fire. Fahim’s fingers twitched, itching to snatch his pistol from the ground. The tactical vest he wore might save him from a body shot, but not from a bullet to the head. Khan was an expert shooter, and well within range to make the shot an easy one.

As the spurt of panic faded, steely determination took its place. Slowly, he turned to face Khan, the hair on his nape standing on end.You will not take me.

Everything crystalized in his mind. It had all come down to this moment. Fahim had fought too hard to have everything taken away from him. He would kill this damned American, escape, and live to see his family again.

****

Zaid struggled to get his breathing under control after the steep climb through the last bit of the tunnel and held his ground as he faced off with The Jackal. General fucking Nasar, a man they’d trusted and had now betrayed them, putting their lives in peril.

He didn’t dare break his concentration even to contact his teammates to alert them that he’d found Nasar. They were all busy checking out the other tunnels, except Granger, who was only a minute or so behind Zaid.

Nasar stood there on the ledge for a few heartbeats, staring at him from thirty yards away. Frozen. His hand hovered near the ground where a fallen pistol lay.

Zaid aimed dead center at Nasar’s chest, his finger on the trigger. Dammit, it was hard to see without his NVGs, but he could clearly make out Nasar’s outline.

Go ahead, asshole. Give me the excuse I need to put a bullet between your eyes.

His grip was solid on his weapon, his prey trapped on the precipice above the sheer cliff that dropped away on one side. The wind gusted around him, rising up from the canyon below. Taking Nasar out would be easy from this distance, but that’s not what the agency wanted. They wanted to bring him in alive so they could grill him about every last smuggling operation he had ever been involved with, and everyone who had worked with him.

The bastard still hadn’t complied with Zaid’s first order. “Put your handsup,” he shouted, still using Dari, his voice ringing off the wall of granite beside him.

Nasar didn’t budge. Zaid took a step toward him, conscious of the sheer drop-off to his right. The bastard knew they wanted to take him in alive. Did he really think they wouldn’t shoot him if necessary?

He kept careful watch of Nasar’s hands and took another menacing step forward. Nasar edged backward. “Stop,” Zaid commanded, his patience at an end. “One more step and I pull the trigger.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he heard rushed footsteps behind him at the mouth of the cave. “Whoa, shit!”

---