Brothers in Arms (12 page)

The vehicle continued to roll, and Jonah thought they were going to come to a stop right-side up. Just before rocking over onto all four tires, movement ceased, and then reversed. The impact slammed Jonah into the center console as the SUV landed back on its side, then kept rolling onto its roof. Glass still cracked and popped, showering them all in a diamond-like hail. The silence following the thunderous explosions and impacts shocked Jonah. He blinked several times, trying to orient himself. The smell of charred metal and exploded ordinance filled the air. He’d just gotten his bearings when the tires of another SUV, with the front grille of a Range Rover, came into view and stopped. Something told Jonah they weren’t Good Samaritans. He fought past the jarring pain in his spine. He had to get moving.

“We’ve got hostiles,” Jonah called. He turned toward Lucena and saw he was unconscious, his face bloody. He started to check Lucena’s condition. Feet hitting the ground beside the Range Rover and running toward them took over his attention. He let go of his rifle and reached for his sidearm as he twisted around. Shankman, Crowden, and Kellan all appeared conscious and relatively unharmed, even as they formed a graceless heap on the roof of the vehicle. The feet came around to the driver’s side of the SUV, and Jonah realized their damaged vehicle had come to rest with the passenger side against the wall of a building.

Alarm balled tight like a fist in Jonah’s chest as the feet came to a stop at the rear driver’s-side door—Kellan’s door. He scrambled onto his belly and tried to aim his Beretta. Shattered glass crunched beneath him. His size worked against him in the compressed space.
Fuck.
The feet he could see wore athletic shoes. More feet appeared: these in American-style combat boots. That made no sense.

“Kellan, look alive,” he called, needing Kellan to be aware of the impending threat. Hands reached in through the shattered window, grasping at Kellan’s clothing. Jonah squeezed off two rounds at the feet he could see, aiming as far from a now struggling Kellan as he could.

“Captain Reynolds!” Shankman yelled in warning.

“Don’t let ’em get hold of you,” Crowden shouted for Kellan to fight the disembodied hands. “Bite ’em if you have to.”

“Grab on to him,” Jonah ordered them both. “Don’t let him out of the fuckin’ victor!”

M16 and AK fire crackled around them. Jonah fired again, feeling the recoil all the way into his shoulder. Bodies fell to the ground. At least one was an Arab male, wearing a taqiyah. A second face was hooded.

Hands again reached in through Kellan’s window. They found purchase in his clothing. Kellan scrabbled to find a grip on something in the SUV. With the other hand, he struggled to break the grips of the fingers that held him. He twisted his lower body, trying to dig his knees into the roof for leverage.

Crowden dropped his sidearm and grabbed Kellan’s pant legs with both hands. “Guy, help me.” His voice was desperate as he tried to avoid being kicked by Kellan.

Shankman kept hold of his weapon but also gripped a handful of Kellan’s shirt. “I can’t get a clear fucking shot,” he called to no one in particular.

Jonah again cursed his large frame. His muscles strained and cramped as he fought to crawl into the back of the SUV. Sharp pain tore at his shoulder as he tried to get a hand on Kellan to help hold him. Shankman hammered at an enemy hand with the butt of his weapon. Kellan bit one of the arms reaching through the window. He delivered a direct punch to a combatant’s face.

“Hang on,” Jonah yelled. “Hang on to him. Don’t let them take him.” He caught movement and swung his Beretta to fire past Lucena’s unmoving form, and another body dropped.

Horror hit Jonah as a rough tug dragged Kellan’s shoulders and chest through the window. He braced a foot against the crumpled dashboard and shoved hard. He finally got a hand into the hem of Kellan’s shirt where it had pulled free from his trousers. It was too little, too late. Shankman held on, getting dragged along with Kellan. Crowden fired at the scrambling feet outside of the vehicle. Kellan’s shirt was ripped from Jonah’s grip as Kellan’s legs and feet disappeared through the window. Jonah felt like his heart had been dragged out at the same time. Crowden tried desperately to crawl out after Kellan, but a burst of gunfire forced him back into the cover of the ruined SUV.

“Fuck!” Jonah shouted, straining to see out of a shattered window and track where Kellan was being taken. “Kellan, keep fighting,” he called blindly. “Don’t go easy on them; keep fighting. I’ll find you, Kellan! I’ll find you!”

Gunfire continued briefly, and bodies fell around the vehicle. Jonah was vaguely aware of the Range Rover’s tires kicking up dirt and sand as it pulled away, reverse gear whining in protest.

Suddenly, familiar boots appeared at Lucena’s window, followed by Tisch’s tense face. “You guys okay?”

“Lucena’s out cold,” Jonah replied.

He followed Crowden and Shankman out the window, crawling on his belly. His nerves felt as raw as his elbows and knees where he’d dragged them through shattered glass.

“They took Kellan.”

“Saw that,” Tisch replied, taking Jonah’s sidearm from him.

Several Marines started to take aim at the Range Rover that was now trying to execute a three-point turn in the narrow street. Tisch and Shankman stopped them.

Jonah keyed his mic. “Diyala firm base, Hitman-Two-One.”

“Go for Diyala firm base,” Top Resler’s voice responded.

Tisch hooked an M4 to Jonah’s battle sling, slid a 9mm into Jonah’s leg holster, and handed him a second one, fully loaded. “We’ve taken a hit from an RPG. There are casualties, but no details yet.” He provided their map grid location from memory.

“Roger, Hitman-Two-One. I’ll start a team your way.”

“Be advised, Diyala, the hostiles have abducted Captain Reynolds.” The words burned Jonah’s constricted throat.

There was a long pause before Resler responded, “Predator is mobilizing the firm base. They’ll be oscar-mike in three mikes.”

“Roger. Hitman-Two-One out.”

“They loaded him into the Range Rover,” Tisch said.

Jonah turned to see the Range Rover had completed its maneuver and was speeding away. His first inclination was to pursue and keep the promise he’d made to Kellan, but he had men down.

“Go, Jonah,” Tisch urged him. “Keep the vehicle in sight. Eric is bringing the third SUV around to an unblocked street.”

Jonah looked up past the gun truck to see Marines piling into the last vehicle as it backed up fast. He turned back toward the retreating Range Rover.

“Go now, before you lose visual. Keep Eric updated as you move.” Tisch gave Jonah’s shoulder a hard shove. “I’ll see to the wounded. Go.”

Needing no more encouragement, Jonah took off at a run. He checked himself quickly, making sure he had enough spare ammo. He was at full speed when the Range Rover turned the corner.

Jonah followed the Range Rover at a dead run, sucking in deep breaths. His muscles burned from the sudden strain. His boots thudded loudly with each stride. The shifting of his gear as he ran was loud in his ears. If he lost sight of the vehicle, it might mean Kellan’s life. Kellan had been taken for a reason. They would keep him alive until they reached their destination.

A quick glance around the wall and Jonah identified a wide-open street filled with traffic. His target was momentarily trapped in the gridlock but zigzagged violently until it raced down a row of market vendors.

Jonah pulled back, using the wall as cover. “Diyala firm base, Hitman-two-one,” he called over comms.

“Go for Diyala firm base.”

“Captain Reynolds was loaded into a Range Rover that has fled the scene. I’m foot-mobile in pursuit. The primary scene is secure.” His voice was strong and steady, not even winded from his sprint.

“Update regularly,” Resler replied. “Firm base out.”

Breaking cover, Jonah crossed through the congested traffic. Horns blared, and more adrenaline spiked through him. Cars braked hard, tires screeching loudly. Some vehicles swerved sharply around him. Jonah leapt over the center island dividing the two directions of traffic. A small car blocked his path. Jonah vaulted, one heavily booted foot landing loudly on the hood of vehicle. He came down on the dusty road without breaking stride.

Jonah darted through the vendor stalls, most of the occupants fleeing from his path. He made eye contact when he could, betting a six-foot-three-inch, heavily armed American Marine running through the streets was an odd and frightening sight. Jonah sprinted on. The burn in his legs gave way to warmth. A man stepped into Jonah’s path, gun in hand. Jonah sighted the 9mm and fired. The gun in the man’s hands skittered across the ground, and he ran right over the fallen body.

Ahead, the Range Rover turned right down an alley. Jonah poured on a burst of speed. His stomach dropped when the vehicle disappeared from sight. At the edge of the alley, he leaned against the building wall. He caught his breath in three quick inhalations. Jonah glanced around the corner. He ducked back just before the crack of an AK echoed against the building walls. He felt rounds slam into the wall against which he leaned.

One on the roof to his left.

Jonah took a deep breath, lifted the Beretta, and exhaled as he stepped around the corner. Aiming high, he squeezed off several rounds. The hostile on the roof fell. Jonah took off down the alley. He pushed hard to get up to speed. As he neared the exit, an enemy appeared, pointing an AK in his direction. Jonah fired the 9mm on the run.

Target eliminated.

At the end of the alley, he glanced left, then right. Jonah spotted the Range Rover roaring down a narrow street. He pushed off the wall and ran. His vision started to tunnel. Jonah ignored the heavy weight of his boots and kicked harder.

He was not going to lose the vehicle.

A sudden burst of gunfire sounded from up high. AK rounds skittered around him. Jonah was forced to take shelter behind a parked pickup truck. He paused, listening. He breathed steadily. Sweat broke out on Jonah’s forehead and along his hairline. Droplets rolled, icy-hot, down his shirt collar and along the length of his spine. Staying low, he peered out.

Targets on a balcony across the street. All armed and looking in his direction.

Jonah set the handgun on the ground and then loaded a grenade into the launcher of his M4. He rose to a crouch and fired a burst over the hood of the truck. The hostiles were forced to take cover. Jonah launched the grenade. The entire balcony disintegrated. He could smell pulverized concrete and exploded ordinance. He felt satisfaction, but only momentarily. Jonah didn’t stick around to view his handiwork.

He reached the spot where the Range Rover had turned. It was a short alley. He ran down its length.

Gunfire sounded. Jonah caught sight of muzzle flashes.

Targets high and left.

The Range Rover was still in sight. Using the smoke of the grenade blast as cover, Jonah darted across the street. He snatched up an AK-47 that lay among the detritus of the explosion. Using a discarded weapon would leave the ammunition he carried in reserve. The sweat on Jonah’s palm almost made him drop it again.

He hit the building with his back. Jonah raised the AK and fired several controlled bursts. Bodies fell from the balcony across the street. He aimed carefully. Each time he spied a head attempting to get a look, he shot it. Jonah discarded the AK and jogged down the street. He kept pressed to the side of the building.

Ahead, the Ranger Rover turned.

What waited for him on the next turn left him feeling punched. Jonah had been so focused on trailing the Range Rover, he’d lost track of his overall location. Puzzle pieces slotted into place when he cautiously stepped onto the street, directly across from the apartment building they had been heading for. The apartment building Jonah had previously visited with Grizzly.

Why the fuck had they snatched Kellan? Why bring him here?

The doors of the Range Rover all opened. Two men pulled a violently struggling Kellan from the backseat. His wrists and ankles were now bound with duct tape, but he still landed blows with his locked fists and kicked out with both legs. The hostiles converged on Kellan, futilely trying to keep him from writhing and thrashing, and get him to the entrance of the building. Jonah caught a glimpse of Kellan’s face. There was a strip of duct tape across his mouth. He’d probably been biting and spitting when he couldn’t punch or kick.

Good for him.

Kellan grabbed the edge of the door with his bound hands. Jonah winced inwardly as the abductors pounded on Kellan’s fingers and tugged at his body. Kellan held fast. When they finally broke his grip, he left blood smears behind. The scuffle had hiked Kellan’s shirt up around his chest. His pale skin displayed obvious marks of a beating—discolored patches that would turn to bruises very soon.

Jonah keyed his mic. “Deshazo, this is Carver. How copy?”

“Solid copy,” Eric replied immediately. “What’s your location?”

“In front of the building that was our original destination,” Jonah informed him.

“Roger that. We’re a few mikes out.”

“I can’t wait. I’m going in. The least they’ll do is interrogate him. If they know who they have, they might do more.” The words tasted sour in Jonah’s mouth.

“Even you can’t assault a building alone.”

“Not an assault. I’ve done the recon. It’s probably one of those rat-maze kind of things they do.”

“I guess the best way to rescue the captain is to turn loose a Recon Marine.”

“Secure the perimeter on your arrival so enemy reinforcements can’t get in.”

“Solid copy. Deshazo out.”

Jonah put his head down and crossed the street at a run. He took cover outside the door of the building. A quick look and he saw the foyer was clear. He slung his M4 behind him, held his 9mm in his left and his Ka-Bar in his right, and entered the building.

The transfer bloodstains on the wall were surreal, like from a bad slasher flick. Anger rolled hot over Jonah.

Where the smears ended on the entrance walls, directional blood drops had fallen in intervals along the floor. Jonah’s lips pressed into a grim line, and he swallowed hard. They pointed toward the cavernous interior of the building.