The soldier shouted something, his gaze searching the hillside for Connor.
Connor wished he had time to circle behind these two, but he didn’t. He was sure they’d gotten off a call to their commander and that enemy QRF were now inbound. He could handle six guys, but he couldn’t take on an entire army.
The two soldiers had apparently decided to get the hell away from here, one opening the door to jump behind the wheel, the other backing toward the driver’s side passenger door and dragging Shanti with him.
Connor aimed at the one climbing into the driver’s seat.
BAM!
The soldier toppled to the ground. The remaining soldier stopped where he was, pistol still aimed at Shanti’s head. But fear was making him reckless.
He shouted at Connor, panic on his face, the front of his pants wet. Had he pissed himself? “I kill her! Come down!”
Connor moved farther to his right, trying to get a clear shot.
Damn it.
Seeing no alternative, Connor stood, arms raised. “I’m coming out.”
The soldier’s head jerked around, and he pointed his pistol at Connor, releasing Shanti and taking a step in Connor’s direction. He seemed to realize that this was a tactical mistake. He fired at Connor, a single panicked shot, but missed.
Connor flipped the rifle over his shoulder, kept moving, aimed—and fired.
BAM!
Shanti collapsed onto the ground with a cry.
Connor ran to her. “I’m here, princess.”
“I knew … you would come for me.” Her left cheek was badly bruised, and she seemed dazed.
“What did they do to you?”
“Hit me… I struck my head… on a rock, I think.”
He checked her, found a bloody goose egg on the back of her head. There was nothing he could do about that now.
You shouldn’t have left her there. You should have picked her up and run.
He ignored that voice, focused on the moment. “We’re taking the vehicle.
Villagers were watching from the cover of trees, the males moving closer. Connor needed to get her out of here—now.
He scooped Shanti into his arms, carried her around to the front passenger seat, and buckled her in, grateful to see that the keys were still in the ignition. Then he ran around the front of the vehicle, stepped over dead bodies, threw his rifle and backpack at Shanti’s feet—and climbed behind the wheel.
From the distance, he heard the thrum of helicopters.
Shit.
He started the engine, gunned it. “Talk to me, Shanti. Hey, what’s your name?”
“You know … my name. You just said it.”
“Good enough.”
With one hand on the wheel, he pulled out the sat phone. “Shanti is injured—broken leg and a probable concussion. We’ve got a vehicle, and I’m driving as fast as I can. Where the hell am I going? The entire fucking army is bearing down on us.”
Shields gave him directions, using old satellite images superimposed on their location, the helicopters drawing closer. “Left just ahead and then straight on. You’ll have to cut across a couple of fields, but that will take you to the river. Team One is inbound in a blue fishing boat. DEVGRU is cooking up a distraction, trying to get those helicopters off your ass.”