A sense of peace and acceptance she’d never known fell over her as Raegan’s pain-stricken mind conjured up her mother’s sweet voice.
The low humming of the chopper grew louder. Samer gave a quick glance toward the sky. “A transport helicopter,” he commented smugly before returning his gaze to hers. With a smirk she wanted to punch right off his face, the prick taunted her with a cocky, “What? You thought someone was coming to rescue you?”
Samer threw his head back in a full-belly laugh, even shutting his eyes in a dramatic show of condescending humor.
But what the ignorant man didn’t know was he’d just given Raegan the exact chance she’d been praying for. When he’d broken eye contact all the other times, the undercover terrorist had only looked away for a split second or two. Not nearly enough time to make a move without being noticed.
But now…
She reached for her backup pistol. The one she kept in a concealed holster at her hip.
“Sorry to burst that pathetic bubble you must live in…” Samer began to reopen his eyes. “But?—”
Raegan slid the gun from its holster. She pointed the barrel at the man’s head, and then…
The helicopter Samer thought was merely a supply run released a barrage of gunfire on the enemy. A cloud of dust swirled up and around them, impeding the vision of everyone in its path.
Doing her best to keep a clear line of sight, she made the moment count as best she could and pulled the trigger. Samer’sentire body jerked from her bullet’s impact, and though she couldn’t see where it had struck, she did see him fall.
Who’s the better soldier now, asshole?
The chopper flew back over again, this time, from the opposite direction. A few more shots rang out, and then…it was over.
No more bombs. No more screams. Not a single weapon was fired.
It was the most deafening silence Raegan had ever heard. And it was the last thing she remembered before her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she fell to the ground below.
1
Mexico
Present day…
John “Rocky”Rockland scanned the area through the lenses of his mounted sites. The HK416 secured in his grasp felt familiar. Comfortable, even. Like a long-lost friend coming home to visit.
Just like old times, eh, sweetheart?
“Delta Three, do you have a shot on either of the interior tangos?” Christian Hunt’s low voice traveled through their Ops-Core FAST SF high-cut helmet system.
“Negative, One,” Rocky answered his team leader. “Not without risking the hostages.”
Adjusting his position, he shifted his elbows in the dirt to avoid a collection of tiny rocks embedded in the ground where he lay. Sweat rolled slowly down Rocky’s spine, and a small drop dangled from his brow.
But just as he had countless times before, he ignored the annoying sensation and kept his eyes—and his gun—trained on the small building he and his team had been hired by HomelandSecurity to find. And on the inside were the four innocent souls they’d come here to save.
Two men. Two women. All volunteers who’d been attacked and taken captive by six guerilla militants in hopes of cashing in a fat ransom.
The men being held were local doctors who had recently partnered to start an urgent care clinic in one of Tijuana's more destitute areas. A place where families could go for basic medical care that wouldn’t require miles of travel while injured or ill.
Both of the women who’d been taken were part of the volunteer group that helped keep the clinic afloat. One was an Australian nurse, and the other…an American doctor.
They took one of ours, and we’re damn well getting her back.
Every innocent life in that building mattered to Rocky and the others. Ofcourse, they did. But knowing an American citizen was among those taken only added fuel to their determination to take these assholes down.
“Delta Two? What about you?” Christian asked his second-in-command. “How’s your guy looking?”
Brody King quickly responded with a frustrated, “Bastard won’t stay still long enough for me to get a lock on his ass. They’ve got the hostages on the floor against the back wall. Wrists and ankles bound. He keeps pacing back and forth in front of them and waving his gun toward them like he’s gonna shoot.”