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“Tango,” Brown answered in a low voice, and I felt a little relief come over me.
“Good.” I squeezed his shoulder. “Not much farther.” Hill glanced back at me with a scowl. He and Brown often seemed to butt heads. I knew they’d gotten into it back in the States over some girl. Hill was used to getting the women. I never asked about it because, frankly, I didn’t give a flying shit as long as they did their jobs.
A while later, something in my gut warned me, yet again, we weren’t alone. I held up my hand to warn the others to get low.
My heart pounded in my chest and my fingers flexed on my weapon when I heard the pound of horse hooves.
“Dammit,” Moore groaned, “there’s got to be at least seven of them.”
“Possibly eight, and probably more.” I squinted at something slung over the back of one of the horses. In a last-ditch effort for help, I cupped my mouth and sent our signature signal through the mountains in hopes my echo would find the ears of our fellow soldiers. It was a deep wolf howl that went high at the end to ensure my team knew it wasn’t an actual wolf. The idea was to stand out against nature without drawing too much attention from the enemy.
“Should we drop?” Hill hesitated, and I glared at him. He looked at me then turned away and did his annoying habit whenever he was unsure of combing his hair with his fingers. Moore called it his Kenickie move. Moore’s thing was to always reference movies. I guessed everyone had something. I shrugged it off and concentrated on Hill.
“If you drop your weapon, I’ll shoot you myself,” I snapped. We would never surrender, especially to such animals.
The men pointed their guns at us as they approached and circled us with whistles and shouts. We moved into a circle, backs to each other, and kept our weapons held high. If this was it, we’d go out swinging.
“I will soon live like a king,” the leader of the pack said in Pashtu. “Round them up and bring them back to camp,” he ordered.
“We won’t be going anywhere with you.” I let him know I spoke Pashtu as well. They warned us not to let the enemy know if we could speak their language. That way, we could eavesdrop if captured, but today I didn’t care. They wouldn’t get their bounty because we’d fight to our death.
“Ah,” he smiled and tilted his head at me, “you speak my tongue?” He spoke in English. “Good. You should know I always get what I want. So, do yourself a favor and get moving.”
One of his men pointed a gun in my face, and I shoved it upward so hard I could hear the crack as his nose broke. He fell backward and flew over the horse’s ass, tumbling to the ground. The leader shook his head and nodded at another man who went to stab me, but I stepped out of his way and grabbed his arm, twisting it at the elbow. It snapped, and he cried out as his knife fell to the ground.
“Enough!” he ordered, and they all pointed their guns at me. “Fire!” They hesitated for a split second, I was sure because of the bounty on our heads that was about to be lost, and then fate suddenly was on our side.
Bullets whipped through the air, and the men jolted in their saddles then fell to the ground near our feet. I popped two in the leader’s head as he tried to ride away. I raced after the horse and grabbed the reins. We could use the horses to give our feet a break. As I circled back, I grinned at the familiar face.
“Heard your call.” Captain Flex stepped out of the shrubs. He signaled for the others to join him.
“Appreciate the timing.” I shook his hand.
“Finally,” Hill grunted as he approached and motioned for Rivera to follow. “I couldn’t do another day here.” I wanted to punch his face in for his lack of respect.
Moore rolled his eyes at me, and I looked away, happy that they were leaving so I didn’t have the urge to give him a black eye. I hated being down two men, but we’d be better off without those two.
“Who’s that?” Dustin, one of Flex’s men, pointed to the body draped over the horse I held by the bridle.
“Don’t know.” Hill moved forward and went to investigate. He poked the bulge with his rifle, and the body jerked. “He’s alive, whoever it is.”
“Untie him,” Flex ordered.
“Copy that.” Hill loosened the ropes around his arms and legs and let him fall to the ground with a thud. Hill pulled off the blanket he was wrapped in and roughly ripped the sack off his head. “Oh, shit, it’s a kid.”
The young boy, maybe nine years old, blinked at the sunlight while tears streamed down his cheeks. He sat up when he saw us and wrapped his arms around his knees for protection.
I bent down and removed his gag and inspected his cuts. He studied my clothes then looked up at me with confusion.
I handed him my water and urged him to drink some. He hesitated at first but took it and swallowed back a good amount. His wrists were bloody, and his neck was rubbed raw, which told me he likely had been on the back of that horse for quite a while.
“Hungry?” I spoke in Pashtu, and when he didn’t answer, I switched to Dari. He nodded, and I handed him a protein pack.
“He’s one of them, Beckett.” Flex came up next to me and stuck the barrel of his gun in the kid’s face. “We need to keep moving.”
“He’s a child.” I pushed the tip of his gun away. “Just because he looks like them doesn’t mean he’s one of them.” We learned that lesson day one of being there.
“Just shoot him and be done,” Hill huffed.
