Cover of Darkness (7 page)

Cover of Darkness

by Kaylea Cross

through the desert last night, hadn't he? But no way could he scale that rock face and handle her added weight.

His eyes crinkled at the corners, like he was trying not to smile.

"You'll have your own harness, Bryn. I'm not fricking Superman, you know."

"But—but how will I—" She huffed out a breath. "Dec, I've never even been to a climbing gym."

"That's okay. I'm going to be with you the whole way."

What difference was that going to make? Oh, God, this was crazy. She watched in disbelief as they hooked up her father's stretcher and prepared to ascend with it, one man above him and another below. They moved with amazing speed, and were halfway up before Dec spoke again.

"We have to get up there, Bryn. The cave we need is on the other side in the canyon. This storm is going to blow over any time and we'll be exposed. Remember the people who took you? They're still out there, Bryn, and by now they've got to know you're missing. They'll be coming after us."

He was right. "Okay."

Dec rigged up her harness, pulled her to the base of the rock and checked the ropes. "We're next in line, so here's how we're going to do this. You're going to place your hands first, then your feet, one move at a time. I'm going to be right behind you, like this." He came up and placed his arms on either side of her, brought his knees up under her thighs so she was practically sitting on his lap.

Oh, God, she thought, the contact zinging through her like lightning. Surprise registered that she could even be aware of 63

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him that way under the circumstances. He felt warm and solid and safe. Frozen, she stared at the big hands framing hers.

Long fingers, wide palms, clean short nails. The back of his left hand had a crescent-shaped scar on it, about the size of a quarter. His body dwarfed her, and she was tall for a woman.

But what would happen if she slipped? She'd knock him and Spencer off with her.

"I won't let you fall, Bryn."

Swiveling her head around to look at him, she swallowed.

The certainty in his voice and the quiet resolve in his eyes gave her hope, but she remained unconvinced. She didn't have a choice, however. "I'll give it my best," was all she could promise. Now if only her knees would stop wobbling.

"I know you will," he answered, his breath warm against the nape of her neck, raising goose bumps on her skin.

Give your head a shake, Bryn.
She sucked in a breath, placed her foot in a toehold and strained up to reach for a finger hold. Her legs already felt like lead weights and they hadn't begun the climb yet.

"Good girl," he said, rock-hard thigh muscles tensing beneath her. "Now use your legs to push up. Don't pull with your arms unless you have to, or you'll fatigue your upper body."

My whole body is already fatigued, she thought in exasperation. She obeyed him though, exhaling sharp and fast as she straightened, like she did when throwing a punch in Karate. Discipline, she reminded herself. Discipline was the thing.

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She moved cautiously, inching her way up with him surrounding her like a second skin. Beads of sweat popped out on her forehead, her lungs laboring to supply her exhausted body with oxygen. Already her muscles trembled, pushed way beyond their limit. She growled as her legs strained to propel her upward over one particularly difficult section, summoning all her reserves to lock her knees when her foot slipped. The scream snagged in her throat as Dec caught her against him and she scrambled for a hold, her heart threatening to explode. Clinging to the rock with her fingernails, before she could stop herself, her horrified eyes measured the distance between her and the ground.

"I've got you," Dec soothed, his voice calm as though she hadn't almost fallen to her death and taken him with her. She hung there against the cool, grainy rock, panting.

"You're doing great, Bryn." His hands and body pinned her in place. "Just rest a minute, get your breath back. And don't look down."

Too late.
She released a shuddering breath, fought to keep calm.

"Thatta girl. Close your eyes for a minute, keep breathing.

We're almost there."

Liar. They were maybe halfway up. She sucked in a few lungfuls of air while she laid flat against the cliff, body trembling as she absorbed his warmth, his strength. In the wake of the adrenaline rush, her limbs felt limp. "Sorry," she whispered finally.

"Nothing to be sorry about. Just a little slip." He made it sound as if it happened to him all the time.

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Tears of exhaustion and fear burned her eyes. She blinked them back and took a deep, fortifying breath.

"It's okay, Bryn. I've got you."

"She all right?" Spencer called from below.

"I'm fine," she answered, willing herself to believe it. "I'm fine," she repeated to herself.
Now get your ass moving.

"Better than fine," Dec said in her ear. "Amazing."

If he was trying to distract her from her fear, he was doing a damn good job. A shaky laugh vibrated through her. Who'd have thought she could laugh at a time like this? She took another calming breath and looked up. Three of the other SEALs peered down at them, waiting.

Just a little farther
, she repeated.
Dec's with you. You can
do this.

Bryn resumed the climb, fingers curling tight, legs struggling to support her weight. But she did it. Inch by inch, foot by foot, she climbed. When they reached the top, she all but collapsed, crawling over the ledge and staying there on her hands and knees. Head bowed, she gasped and trembled.

Strong hands lifted her, and she was propped up against Dec's solid chest.

"Here, drink this," he ordered, passing her a canteen.

Between gasps, she drank the water obediently. Jeez, he wasn't even winded.

He passed a big hand over her back in a comforting gesture. "Hard part's done. Now we let gravity help us down."

Oh God, they still had to get down. She didn't want to think about that right now.

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"We'll give you a couple of minutes, but we've got to keep moving. We're way too exposed up here."

From under heavy lids she glanced around. They were totally open on all sides on the plateau, no protection anywhere. At least the storm had fizzled out, leaving only a strong breeze. With no airborne sand to obscure it, the sun beat down on them with relentless power, the heat sucking all the life out of her. She tipped back the canteen, clinging grimly to her resolve.

Declan ruffled her hair affectionately, as though she was his little sister. "Almost over, lady. Then you can sleep until the helo comes in."

The first six members began their descent, taking her father's stretcher with them. Damned amazing guys, all of them. They disappeared from view over the edge, leaving her, Dec and Spencer alone. Both SEALs seemed tense, gripping their rifles, eyes never still, scanning the horizon for any threat. Neither of them looked the least bit tired. No one would ever have guessed they'd just trekked across the desert through a sandstorm and then scaled a steep rock face. While she felt, and must have looked, like the living dead.

It could be worse, she reasoned. She could be lying dead in that cellar right now. What was a descent down a sixty-odd-foot cliff compared to that?

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"You ready?"

Bryn glanced up into Declan's camouflaged face and nodded. She stood to let him hook up her harness, noting again how tall and strong he was. This time, with him so close, self-consciousness crept in. She
so
wanted a bath. She must stink to high heaven, and it was only going to get worse.

Something whizzed past her head, hot against her ear.

"Get down!"

He tackled her to the ground. Her heart galloped as she realized what had happened. A bullet. Someone had shot at her!

Dec had her pinned flat beneath him, sheltering her with his body while Spencer lay on his belly, scanning through the scope of his high-powered rifle. "Five of 'em," he reported, calmly pulling the trigger.

Dec spoke quickly into his mike, directing the rest of the team on the ground below them. Rocks dug into her belly and pelvis. Squashed beneath his heavy weight, she dimly heard the rapid transmission, while more gunshots cracked through the clear desert air.

"Move, Bryn," he commanded, shoving her in the opposite direction. She crawled as fast as she could away from the edge and toward the far end of the open plateau, heart clattering.

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Spencer ran ahead and quickly anchored a rope, tethered his harness and dropped over the side. Dec tugged some gloves on her, hooked her up and swung down behind her.

"Jones got two of them," he reported to Spencer grimly.

"Rendezvous at the extraction point at twenty-one hundred."

His arms tightened around her as he gripped the rope.

"I'm going to get us on the ground fast," he warned her, "so just let the rope slide between your hands and let me do the work, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, shaking. Had her father made it down all right? Was he still unconscious? "Ulp—" she choked as her body fell backwards, automatically grabbing the rope to slow her descent.

"Let go, Bryn," Dec ordered.

Fighting her instincts, she did as he commanded, dropping another ten feet and stopping when he caught her against his body. She squeezed her eyes shut, sent up a prayer, dropped again. And again. And again as they rappelled down the cliff until her feet touched solid earth. She all but crumpled to the ground, then Dec grabbed her and slung her over his shoulder, running for cover behind a cluster of boulders next to what appeared to be the entrance of a cave. He set her down and she collapsed in a heap as he peered around the rocks, rifle at the ready.

"Clear," he said softly.

"Clear," Spencer responded.

Dec turned to her. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Fine." All things considered, anyhow. "How about my father?"

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"Yeah. They got him down and hidden when the firefight started."

"But has he woken up? He must be starving—"

"No." Sympathy filled his golden eyes. "He's in a coma, Bryn."

"Is he?" she demanded of Spencer, stomach churning.

The medic nodded. "Since this morning."

Fear and grief welled up inside her. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Because we couldn't afford to have you fall to pieces,"

Dec said bluntly.

Oh, but they could now? She drew her knees up, dropped her face into her hands. "I wouldn't have," she insisted.

The guilt ripped at her. This was her
father
she was talking about. Any other daughter would be screaming or crying over him by now. He'd never been much of a parent to her, but still she figured she owed him something more than this numbness. Nothing. All she felt was a heavy lump in her chest.

"Come on," Dec said, hauling her up by the hand. She followed him into the dark cave and sat next to him.

Spencer held out a silver pouch. "Here. Better eat something." When he opened it, the scent of beef stew filled her nose, making her stomach growl. She accepted it dubiously, squeezing some of the cold, gooey contents into her mouth. Trying not to make a face, she swallowed it and waited to see if it would stay down. When it did, she forced herself to take another mouthful. Even if it made her gag, her body needed the calories.

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Spencer sat down next to her. "Pretty good, right?"

A wan smile was the best she could manage. After the stew and some water, her body seemed to give out on her.

Exhaustion swept over her in an overpowering wave.

"Here," Dec said, pulling out a thin blanket and spreading it over the ground. "Lie down and get some sleep while you can." When she crawled onto it, he placed a pack of water under her head as a pillow and covered her with his jacket.

"Sorry, it's the best I can do."

She didn't care. Lying down felt like heaven. Hidden from the enemy and guarded by two Navy SEALs, she figured she wasn't going to get any safer for the time being. Her eyes closed and she fell into oblivion.

Day 4, Syrian desert

Twilight

She woke at twilight when Dec shook her shoulder.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked, head fuzzy.

"About four hours."

That long? It felt like ten minutes. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, staring up at him as he loomed over her.

"I thought you should eat something."

He handed her another silver pouch. "Spaghetti?" she guessed.

"That's what it says, anyhow." He hunkered down beside her with his own pouch.

She suffered it in silence, watching his profile as he ate.

"Where's Spencer?" she asked finally.

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"Outside, guarding the entrance of the cave." His golden eyes scrutinized her. "You ready to get out of here and go home?"

"God, yes."

"Chopper will be here within the hour. We'll need to—" His expression sharpened, then he turned away from her, covering his earpiece with one hand. "Go ahead, Spence." He listened for a few seconds, eyes glued to the slice of half-light coming from the entrance. "Copy that. I'm on my way."

Moving fast, Dec shouldered his pack, grabbed his weapon.

Bryn's heart gave a leap of fear. The spaghetti gurgled in her stomach in a slimy clump. "What's wrong?"

"We've got company. We're gonna draw them away from the landing zone. I need you to stay here and not move until one of us comes back for you. You understand me, Bryn?"