Page 1 of The Writer
Chapter One
BLAKE
“Shit.” This is not how this night was meant to go.
“We got a runner!” I hear one of the guys call.
I secure my weapon and take off after her, racing over the rocky and unstable terrain. Where is she running to anyway? She’s just been sprung from a fucking truck.
A part of me considers just leaving her. She got into this mess on her own. It was a fucking lucky coincidence we found her, but as the thought passes through my mind, it twists something in my gut. My last shred of decency, perhaps.
Her wavy shadow blurs between the night sky and the nothingness she’s running to. I make fast work of closing the gap between us and round her to cut her off.
“Easy, Ivy.” I put my hands up, as if calming a startled animal. “No one’s gonna hurt you. At least we won’t. I can’t speak for everyone you might come across out here.”
“Who are you? If you think I’m going to be some easy little plaything for you and your buddies-”
“Hey! Wait a minute.” This girl is beginning to piss me off. Shaking my head, I turn back the way we came and look back at her. “Look, Ivy, I have no idea why you’re out here, but running isn’t going to help you. Where’s your pickup? Your contacts? Why were you in that truck?”
My questions seem to take the bravado out of her.
“Things went a little sideways.”
“Yeah, no shit.” She looks around, surveying the situation and maybe, if she’s smart, assessing her options. They're limited, and this isn’t the place for us to be hanging around. The guys may have dropped the men driving the truck and the car tailing behind, but it still isn’t safe.
Ivy Broderick certainly isn’t why we were out here tonight, but Asif Hussain’s name has been popping up too frequently for my liking. I’ll have to leave that situation to Tanner.
The distant echoes of gunfire pop around us, and I glance back to the wreckage of the truck we found Ivy in. “We need to get moving. Now, get your head on. You’re out here, no backup. No real chance either. We have a ride for you.”
“So, you weren’t joking about the saviour thing, huh?”
I fight the urge to grab her and haul her arse back to the team, but the sound of vehicles approaching cuts my distraction short, and I look towards the team. “Time’s up, Ivy. Come on.” I take her arm and pull her in my direction as I retrace our steps back through the dark.
Tanner and his team have spread out and taken up defensive positions. “Blake, we’ve got company. Time to go.”
“I’m not arguing there.”
“Dougie, sit-rep?” Tanner asks.
“Four vehicles approaching our position, but the Fox won’t get through without moving the truck.” We glance over to the wreckage. The truck is on its side, laid out across the road and blocking any traffic in either direction. The bonnet of the car behind is crumpled in like tinfoil and still smoking. If it comes to it, the blockade could prove an advantage.
“We’re an hour from the main road that will take us back to Kabul.”
“What’s the Fox?” Ivy asks.
“The Foxhound. Army patrol vehicle,” Dougie fills in for me.
The team certainly weren’t counting on a rescue mission tonight, but it's starting to feel exactly like that.
“Sarge, we’re out gunned if we stay. There’s no way to know the fire power they have, if they are Asif’s men, or if we’re going to open fire on a group of innocent civilians,” Dougie adds.
“How long were you travelling in the truck? Where were they taking you?” I ask Ivy, hoping to glean some more intel.
“How the hell would I know? It wasn’t exactly on plan,” she spits defensively.
“There’s the old safe house in the village back the way we came. We can head there, lie low, and set off when it’s quiet. It’s the safest play if we want to avoid a gun show,” AJ cuts in, offering up a solution.
“Agree. Blake, she’s your responsibility,” Tanner says. “Dougie, watch their six. We don’t have time to clear the scene, so let’s hope they aren’t hostiles. Move.”
