Prologue
Forward Operating Base Bostick
Kunar Province, Afghanistan
DEA Special Agent Tess Dubrovski’s heart thudded an erratic rhythm against her ribs, but her hand was steady on the stick as she guided the wounded Blackhawk through the dark sky to the ground inside the secure perimeter of the FOB. The moment the wheels touched down, her copilot initiated emergency shutdown procedures and she finally allowed herself to release a long, deep breath.
I’m still alive.Hard to believe after the ferocious ground fire they’d taken.
Ground crews converged on them from both sides with fire extinguishers at the ready, staying clear of the nose to avoid the low angle of the main rotor blades. Her crew chief had reported faint smoke in the cabin on the way back and she’d been forced to fly at a lower altitude due to a drop in power, but there hadn’t been a fire, thank God.
With the sound of the engines powering down in the background, Tess leaned her head back against the seat and willed her heart to slow down. They were lucky to have made it to the FOB at all, let alone in one piece. Pushing her NVGs and visor up on her helmet, she ran a gloved hand over her face. It had been a damn close call tonight.
In the left hand seat, her copilot raised his own night vision goggles on his helmet mount and turned his head toward her, his expression tense. “That was some scary shit.”
“Yeah, I’ll never forget it.” She pulled in a deep breath and just sat there while the noise from the engines wound down and the rotors slowed. “How many hits did we take, do you think?”
He snorted. “I lost count after the first dozen.”
Her, too.
The crew chief popped his head into the cockpit from the back. “They’re offloading the wounded now. I’ll check the damage once they’re out.”
“Okay,” Tess said. “How many were hit?” She’d done everything she could think of, used every trick she knew to evade the enemy fire, but no matter which direction she’d gone, they’d just kept taking ground fire.
“Two.” He glanced between her and the copilot. “You both okay?”
“We’re good,” Tess said. Physically, anyway. But only thanks to their armor-plated seats and the helo’s tough skin.
She still had no idea what the hell had happened out there. They’d landed without incident and picked up FAST Bravo and the others, including a high value target prisoner and two KIA. Right after takeoff from the LZ they’d taken a barrage of close range small arms fire from a rogue element embedded within the Afghan NIU force the DEA team had been working a joint op with. Seconds into their climb, rounds had penetrated the fuselage and struck two men on the other side of the bulkhead.
From what she could tell, the tail section had taken the worst of it. For a moment there, she’d thought the shooters had damaged the tail rotor. Then everyone onboard would have been screwed. Thankfully her door gunner had managed to clear off most of the enemy to avoid disaster, otherwise they’d all be burning in a mass of twisted metal back in those mountains behind them right now.
Her late husband’s face flashed through her mind, along with an image of the wreckage they’d pulled his body from three years ago. Her stomach clamped so hard that for a moment she feared she might be sick right there in the cockpit.
With effort, she locked the bleak, painful memory away and focused on what was going on around her aircraft.
Icy January air rushed in through the open right side door in the back as the nine men of FAST Bravo carried the wounded and dead toward the cinderblock building. At the sight of those black body bags, her hands started to shake. Tucking them under her thighs, she took slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm down.
She’d been in tight spots before, on a couple of missions back during her army days when she’d deployed over here. But never this tight. And that had been before Brian had been killed.
Tonight, while the bullets had been flying, she hadn’t had time to be scared, her entire focus on flying the aircraft and getting them out of range of enemy fire. Now that it was all over, her nervous system was making up for lost time.
Only after all the passengers had disembarked did she unbuckle her harness and exit the aircraft through her cockpit door. She was steadier now, her heart rate back to normal as she stepped out onto the bare, frozen ground.
In the dim illumination of the base perimeter lights, she got her first look at the damage they’d sustained. It wasn’t pretty.
“Jesus Murphy,” she said under her breath.
A moment later her crew chief walked around the end of the tail and came toward her. “How bad?” she asked.
“Bad. Check this out.”
She followed him around to the other side of the tail section, and her breath caught. Light streamed through the dozens of bullet holes in the tail boom. A chunk was missing from one blade of the tail rotor. More holes raked the entire right side of the aircraft, right up to her seat in the cockpit, and the engine housing was peppered with holes as well.
Tess swallowed.Shit, it was a freaking miracle the bird had continued to fly.
Movement flashed in her peripheral vision. A man was climbing out of the Blackhawk’s cabin with some gear draped over his shoulder. When he straightened, recognition hit her. SA Prentiss, one of the FAST Bravo members. Tall, dark and handsome, the first man who had captured her curiosity and interest in a long time…and the absence of guilt that normally accompanied a thought like that about another man startled her. What did it mean?