a hand, and Tag dug the socks out of his pocket and passed them over. He pulled the quick-Ârelease tabs on his ruck, and Tag did the same. Quickly, efficiently, they sat her down and pulled off her boots. Tag broke open his first aid kit and pulled out a Âcouple Kotex, and they covered her many bleeding blisters with antiseptic and the soft pads. Jace flipped open a knife and hacked a T-Âshirt in half. Each took one half, grabbed a foot, wrapped it in the cloth, and covered it with two pairs of thick socks. They ignored her protests and laced her boots for her. Tag muttered a quick, âNo offense, maâam, but we can do it quicker.â In less than five minutes, they jumped up and continued down the trail.
Heather still moved stiffly, but kept up with the slower pace. Jace did some quick calculations. If they could squeeze some more speed out of her, they would make it, just barely. She had guts, he had to admit. As he increased his pace, so did she, without complaint, though he knew her feet must be killing her. The padding would help, but he knew how painful open sores could be.
They crept to the crest of a large hill, lying flat to scan the valley leading to their exit point. An unearthly hush covered the landscape. The hairs on the back of Jaceâs neck stood on end. He laid a hand on Tagâs forearm. Wait, he signaled. Tag stopped immediately.
Jace wasnât sure what nagged at him. Every sense strained, but nothing seemed amiss. He trusted his gut, though, and his gut shrieked a warning.
He heard the wind the same time Tag did. It rose from the eerie silence like the voice of God. They watched with a kind of fatalistic amusement as an enormous wall of sand crested the far mountains and began to swirl at the far end of the valley.
Tag swore. Jace agreed with him, but he didnât waste his breath. âTell the team to find shelter,â he barked. âGo back to the damned Kongra-ÂGel camp if you have to. We need . . .â He cut himself off as a group of men topped the ridgeline, not fifty feet from them. Weapons out, they swept from left to right, on the hunt. âShit! Theyâre coming this way.â The two operators became part of the landscape. Jace cursed as he realized Heather hugged the ground, but didnât seem to realize she was in the open and visible. He rolled to his feet and gripped her arm. Shouts from behind assured him theyâd been spotted.
Jace tugged her to her feet and they bolted, zigzagging across the hard-Âpacked earth until Jace realized this new group was not shooting at them. Instead, they maneuvered to cut them off. Capture them. Oh, no. No, no, no. Wasnât going to happen, not if he had to kill a thousand of them.
Never again.
He increased his pace, dragging Heather behind him like the string on a kite. She matched him stride for stride, the urgency of the situation clear to her. He spared a moment to admire her for ignoring the pain in her feet to do what had to be done.
Behind him, Tag opened up on the enemy, scattering them and giving Jace a precious few seconds. He plunged deeper into the shadows of the brush lining the lower parts of the hillside and pulled Heather to his side. Much more slowly now, they crept through the concealment. Behind him, he could hear her harsh breathing. He slid his hand under her hair to pull her close. She resisted for a moment, then leaned forward. He whispered into her ear, âSlow your breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. From the diaphragm, just like before.â She nodded, gulping a few times before she got the rhythm.
âWhat about your friend?â she whispered back. In English.
âHe can take care of himself.â Hey, now. Maybe her mental muzziness was clearing. Being able to communicate openly with her would be a huge help.
He led her through the brush.
Â
Chapter Eight
August 16. 4:50 A.M.
Somewhere in Sari Daru Province,
Heather still moved stiffly, but kept up with the slower pace. Jace did some quick calculations. If they could squeeze some more speed out of her, they would make it, just barely. She had guts, he had to admit. As he increased his pace, so did she, without complaint, though he knew her feet must be killing her. The padding would help, but he knew how painful open sores could be.
They crept to the crest of a large hill, lying flat to scan the valley leading to their exit point. An unearthly hush covered the landscape. The hairs on the back of Jaceâs neck stood on end. He laid a hand on Tagâs forearm. Wait, he signaled. Tag stopped immediately.
Jace wasnât sure what nagged at him. Every sense strained, but nothing seemed amiss. He trusted his gut, though, and his gut shrieked a warning.
He heard the wind the same time Tag did. It rose from the eerie silence like the voice of God. They watched with a kind of fatalistic amusement as an enormous wall of sand crested the far mountains and began to swirl at the far end of the valley.
Tag swore. Jace agreed with him, but he didnât waste his breath. âTell the team to find shelter,â he barked. âGo back to the damned Kongra-ÂGel camp if you have to. We need . . .â He cut himself off as a group of men topped the ridgeline, not fifty feet from them. Weapons out, they swept from left to right, on the hunt. âShit! Theyâre coming this way.â The two operators became part of the landscape. Jace cursed as he realized Heather hugged the ground, but didnât seem to realize she was in the open and visible. He rolled to his feet and gripped her arm. Shouts from behind assured him theyâd been spotted.
Jace tugged her to her feet and they bolted, zigzagging across the hard-Âpacked earth until Jace realized this new group was not shooting at them. Instead, they maneuvered to cut them off. Capture them. Oh, no. No, no, no. Wasnât going to happen, not if he had to kill a thousand of them.
Never again.
He increased his pace, dragging Heather behind him like the string on a kite. She matched him stride for stride, the urgency of the situation clear to her. He spared a moment to admire her for ignoring the pain in her feet to do what had to be done.
Behind him, Tag opened up on the enemy, scattering them and giving Jace a precious few seconds. He plunged deeper into the shadows of the brush lining the lower parts of the hillside and pulled Heather to his side. Much more slowly now, they crept through the concealment. Behind him, he could hear her harsh breathing. He slid his hand under her hair to pull her close. She resisted for a moment, then leaned forward. He whispered into her ear, âSlow your breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. From the diaphragm, just like before.â She nodded, gulping a few times before she got the rhythm.
âWhat about your friend?â she whispered back. In English.
âHe can take care of himself.â Hey, now. Maybe her mental muzziness was clearing. Being able to communicate openly with her would be a huge help.
He led her through the brush.
Â
Chapter Eight
August 16. 4:50 A.M.
Somewhere in Sari Daru Province,
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