Running Fire. Lindsay McKenna

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СКАЧАТЬ the hell? A woman? Not in the Shadow Squadron! That was a men-only combat slot.

      It didn’t matter. Kell heaved to his feet, holding on to the woman pilot, crouched, angling to get the hell out from beneath the toxic fumes and smoke. She weighed a lot less than a man, he realized, as he trotted out from beneath the cloud.

      Halting, he pulled his NVGs down so he could see into the night. Keeping his hearing keyed, Ballard slowed his pace once he was across the narrow, flat area. Ahead of him was the slope.

      As he began the climb, the rain lessened. The wind gusted fiercely, gut punching him, throwing him off balance. Cursing softly, panting from the exertion up the steep, rocky slope, he moved toward his hide. And then, Kell heard a snap and pop nearby. Damn! The Taliban had spotted him! Now his hide was useless!

      Kell leaned into the hide, grabbing his rifle and his ruck. More bullets snapped by his head. Others struck the rocks around him, sending off sparks and ricocheting. Grunting, he was now weighed down with not only the unconscious pilot, but an eighty-pound ruck and a twenty-five-pound sniper rifle.

      And the Taliban had him in their sights.

      Angling up through the wadi, or ravine, Kell knew the Taliban were shooting wildly because they didn’t have thermal-imaging capability. They couldn’t see what was out there in the night and rain. But even they got lucky sometimes. As he hoofed up the slope, weaving between straggling trees and thick bushes, he headed higher.

      His lungs were burning. His legs felt tortured and were starting to cramp. The bullets were going wide of them now. Moving deeper down into the wadi, Kell knew no Taliban were there because this had been his home for three weeks. He knew every bush, tree and rock.

      The rain eased, the wind gusting less as he popped out of the top of the wadi, a thousand feet higher. He was rasping for breath, his calves knotting painfully with fist-size cramps in each. Clenching his teeth, he pushed through the pain, knowing he had to get to a certain chain of caves and tunnels or they’d both eventually be found and killed. Slipping, sometimes falling to his knees, Ballard scrambled like a damned mountain goat and kept fighting the slope with his three heavy loads.

      Finally, he reached a small cave about ten feet high and six feet wide. Carefully slipping inside, Kell dropped his ruck on the dirt floor, set the sniper rifle against the wall and then knelt down, easing the unconscious pilot off his shoulders. The wall of the cave hid them. Breathing hard, sucking oxygen that wasn’t easily available at nine thousand feet, Kell steadied himself. He pushed two fingers against the pilot’s neck. She was a woman. That still stunned the hell out of him. He saw dark blood down the entire left side of her face. Her lips were slack.

      There! He felt a pulse. That was good news. Unable to do much here, he pushed his wet fingers beneath the fabric of her soaked flight collar. He fumbled and finally located her dog tags. Angling his head, he read, “Mackenzie, L., CWO, US Army.” Dropping them against her chest, he keyed his radio mic close to his mouth.

      “Redbud Main, this is Redbud Actual. Over.” Ballard gulped for breath, waiting. Sometimes, being in a cave stopped transmission.

      “Redbud Main. Over.”

      That would be Ax, Master Chief Tom Axton, who ran their Delta platoon. Quickly, Kell explained what had happened. The Taliban were on their trail, following them. It would be impossible for a helo pickup. He was going into the cave system and would try to lose them. Kell told the master chief about the woman pilot, L. Mackenzie.

      “Roger Redbud Actual. Egress. We’ve already been in touch with Raven Actual. There are two Apaches underway to the crash site as I speak. Take evasive action. Out.”

      Kell signed off and raised his head, listening intently. He’d murmured in a quiet tone. A whisper would have carried even farther. Looking out, he spotted five Taliban climbing toward the cave. Damn! Turning, he saw the woman pilot had remained unconscious. She was still wearing her helmet. He almost pulled it off, but thought better of it because if the Taliban searched the cave and found it, they’d know she was nearby.

       Not good.

      Kell strapped the sniper rifle onto the outside of the ruck. Pulling the pilot over his shoulders again, he picked up the strap of the heavy ruck in his left hand. He kept his right hand on the woman’s slack wrist over his chest so she wouldn’t slip off. After getting a few minutes of rest, he swiftly moved to the rear of the cave. In a minute more, his NVGs would be useless. He knew this tunnel and jogged down it, blind in the pitch darkness, but knowing exactly where he was going.

      Kell continued the swift pace, his calves knotting up in excruciating protest. He needed water, dehydrated from the long burst of speed to get this pilot to safety. But water could wait. He sped past two more caves, locating a fork and then moving up a steep tunnel.

      His breath came out in explosions, sweat running off him as he pushed hard, forcing his tired, burning legs to perform. As a black ops SEAL, he knew he could ignore pain and keep on going. There wasn’t a choice, anyway. Luckily the Taliban wouldn’t know which way he’d chosen to go in this system. The dolomite-rock tunnels didn’t reveal boot tracks, thank God.

      His heart was pounding like it was going to tear out of his chest as he climbed toward the ten-thousand-foot level. He was going into a cave that had probably never been used by anyone. Yet.

      The reason Ballard knew about it was that he’d accidentally discovered it three weeks ago. There were no animal or human prints in the soft, fine dirt of the cave floor where he was headed. It was hidden well enough that he felt it was the right place to hide for now. Even better, there was another exit tunnel out of it, so if his hiding spot was compromised he could egress to freedom with the injured pilot.

      Kell was soon operating in pitch darkness. At a juncture, he halted, leaned forward so the pilot wouldn’t fall and grabbed a small penlight out of his cammie pocket. Shifting it to his left hand that was now numb, the light would enable him to traverse the caves. He pulled his NVG goggles down around his neck. They were of no use now. Breathing out of his mouth to quiet his jagged rasps, he turned, his hand on the pilot’s shoulder to steady her position on him, listening. There were no Taliban voices in either Arabic or Pashto floating up toward him in the complex tunnel system. Kell knew his enemy well enough to assume that they’d probably given up, more interested in hiding because they figured Apache combat helicopters were coming to find them. They couldn’t be discovered in a nearby cave where they might be seen, so they’d hunker down in a wadi and wait it out. That was fine by him.

      He reached the small cave chamber. Luckily, it contained a small pool. As Kell entered it, he heard the rush of water. Figuring the rain from far above was leaking down through the fissured limestone, he pushed toward the rear of the cave. There was an alcove, a thin wing of dolomite rock that acted like a wall, hiding the mouth of the cave from where he was standing. It would also hide the pilot and his gear from Taliban eyes. That was a small advantage.

      Breathing hard, Kell dropped the ruck, making sure the sniper rifle sat on top of it. He couldn’t afford to have the Win-Mag damaged. Grunting, he slowly crouched, his sore knees settling onto the fine but gritty surface. Easing the pilot off his shoulders, he kept his hand beneath her neck and head as he got her straightened out, laying her down.

      Placing the light at an angle against the rock wall, he shifted into combat-medic mode. Opening the ruck, he grabbed his sleeping bag, rolling it out. He picked her up and placed her on it. Next, he located a pair of gloves in his ruck and he pulled them on. Kell unstrapped her helmet and gently lifted it off her head. Putting it aside, he got a look at her for the first time. Her ginger-colored СКАЧАТЬ