Page 37 of Scars of Fate

The climb was nearly vertical.

Loose shale slid beneath my boots as Adam, Hawk, and I worked our way up the narrow goat trail.

No talking.

No wasted movement.

Only hand signals.

Only trust.

Machine-gun fire continued hammering the canyon below.

The civilians were pinned.

Exactly where the enemy wanted them.

I glanced down.

Boone and Russ had everyone tucked behind a natural rock shelf while Janice and Wynn moved from one injured civilian to the next.

Even from two hundred feet above them, I found Wynn instantly through my optic.

As if she sensed me watching, she looked toward the ridge.

Only for a second.

Then she returned her attention to a little boy with a bloody arm.

I smiled to myself.

Stubborn.

Brave.

Completely impossible.

Exactly the woman I’d married.

Adam raised a clenched fist.

We froze.

Three enemy soldiers stood less than twenty yards ahead.

One smoked a cigarette.

Another watched the convoy below through binoculars.

The third adjusted the mounted machine gun.

None of them looked uphill.

They never imagined anyone would climb the cliff behind them.

Adam looked at me.

Then at Hawk.