Deadly Contact (24 page)

“Roger that, Raven Actual. Out.”

Travis put the sat phone down on his rucksack, scowling into
the total darkness. There were thousands of caves all around this area. The
Taliban used them regularly to hide from drone eyes and from the deadly Apache
helicopters that stalked them.

He pulled the cover off his watch and saw that it was midnight.
Rubbing his bearded jaw, he thought about the possibilities. He had to act fast.
Once again, he examined the live video feed of the Taliban fleeing with the
kidnapped woman. They were moving at a steady trot and it was clear to him
someone had night vision goggles or they wouldn’t be able to ride through the
darkness.

His thoughts turned to his buddies from back home. He and five
others from Rush Springs, Texas, had been on the football team that captured the
state championship. They called themselves the Sidewinders, striking like a
rattler and beating more powerful teams. All six of them had a sidewinder
tattooed around their right biceps. And during those four years, they were like
football gods to their small Texas town in the panhandle.

Shortly after graduation, they all went into the military. And
it didn’t surprise Travis that all six of them went into black ops. He grinned a
little, thinking about Duke Carmichael, one of the Sidewinders. If he’d gotten
this plate of hot potatoes, his good friend, who was a combat controller in the
Air Force, would probably die laughing. Of course, Duke had been a real favorite
among the girls at the high school, and he had a hell of a reputation for
bedding as many as he could. Given that a woman was involved in this op, Duke
would leap at the chance to rescue her.

Only problem was, he’d seen Duke at Bagram when he was
finishing up an assignment with another SEAL team. Duke had been shot in the
thigh and was headed for Germany on a C-5 to get patched up. His friend would be
out of commission for a while, but knowing Duke, who was not one to sit around,
he’d find a way to stir up trouble.

Travis missed the other Sidewinders. They did stay in touch,
occasionally crossing one another’s paths in the black ops world. When they did,
a cold beer at a bar was the standard celebration, filling in the blanks of what
was going on in their lives. The last he’d heard from Duke was that he was bored
out of his skull while healing up stateside.

Travis put the happy thoughts away and began to gather all his
equipment and store it in the sixty-five-pound ruck he’d wear on his back.
Normally, he was a very patient person, which was part of the sniper
personality, but he wasn’t going to leave this hide until he was
sure
that group of riders would pass his way. He’d
worked too hard, for nearly a week, finding this spot and creating a place where
he’d not be detected.

If
the group continued to come in
his direction, he was most likely going to have to leave his hide, move lower on
the slope and hope like hell he’d intersect them. If that group rode a mile away
from him, he wouldn’t be able to stop them. And she’d be plunged into a void
more terrifying than any nightmare. Damned stubborn woman.

He’d grown up on a West Texas ranch and knew all about Texas
fillies who were unlike most other women. This Madison gal was a horsewoman. And
she obviously didn’t follow orders, traipsing off on her own. That was good and
bad news. If he got a shot at the Taliban riders, he’d have to hope she’d keep
her head about her. He had to take the enemy down in swift succession. What he
didn’t need was some wimpy woman who couldn’t think coolly in a crisis. All the
Texas women he’d known growing up were solid and not given to hysteria when the
chips were down.

Travis scowled. At twenty-seven, he’d been married and
divorced. Thank God, no kids came out of it. And his job as a SEAL had
definitely put his marriage in the hurt locker. Marrying Isabella Winborne had
been a lifelong dream for Travis. They’d grown up in Rush Springs and had been
high school sweethearts. Travis had stupidly made the mistake of promising
Isabella he’d marry her. He’d joined the SEALs at eighteen, and he’d waited
until twenty-one to make good on that promise.

Isabella came from a very rich Texas family and her parents
didn’t want her marrying him because he came from a middle-class Texas ranching
family. But like any Texas woman, Isabella was headstrong and fought her family.
Snorting softly, Travis remembered their divorce when he was twenty-four. It was
messy. There’d been a lot of hard feelings in Rush Springs. His parents had had
to deal with the fallout. Travis had been overseas and missed it. Until he’d
gone home.

Yeah, he knew about strong-willed Texas women, for damn sure.
Pulling out his Sig Sauer 9 mm pistol, he put a bullet in the chamber. His mind
lingered on that bad patch in his life. He’d loved Isabella, but his life as a
SEAL had interfered and the marriage had dissolved over time like a ticking time
bomb. Isabella wasn’t prepared for the months he’d be away. There was a
ninety-percent divorce rate among the SEALs and she’d been a casualty of it, and
so had he. Travis swore that, from that moment on, he was
not
going to fall in love again. At least, not while in the
SEALs.

Now it appeared he’d gotten entangled with another headstrong
Texas woman: Madison Duncan. He felt bad for her because he knew this particular
enemy hated American women on a par with American men. She would not be treated
well and that ate at him. Rape came to mind and he tried to ignore the
possibility. They could beat her to death, as well. He hoped she had strong
Texas genes because she would need them to survive this.
If
she survived it at all.

Travis could imagine that SEAL HQ at Bagram was going nuts at
this point since Madison’s rescue had fallen on their shoulders. Yeah, they were
black ops, but he wondered about the political fallout on this escapade. If the
SEALs didn’t get this done right, their name would be tarnished in the American
press and the world. Not something that the admiral running the SEALs wanted,
Travis was sure. And everything was landing on his shoulders. With the lack of
intel, he had to rely on her being from Texas and assume she’d be tough enough
to deal with the situation.

His mind skipped like a rock over a pond’s surface. He knew the
cave system in this area like the back of his own hand. He’d spent three
deployments here along the border. That was the good news. There were some caves
and systems he knew intimately. The Taliban favored certain caves, but he’d done
his homework over the years, finding others where he could hide and not be
discovered. Those caves were around and they’d most likely take advantage of
them.
If
he could rescue her.
If
she lived.
If
she wasn’t injured.
If
she was ambulatory. Pushing his fingers
through his longish black hair, his eyes narrowing, Travis knew he needed some
luck. Would he get it?

* * *

Madison didn’t know how long she’d been on the trotting
horse. Blinded by the hood, her arms and shoulders now numb, she tried to remain
on board the animal. There was never any talking among her kidnappers. They just
relentlessly pushed their horses. She could smell the sweat on her own horse. It
was stumbling regularly, which meant it was tired and needed to rest. She had
tried to push the rag out of her mouth, but couldn’t. Dying of thirst, her face
swollen and her nose still leaking blood every now and again, she felt bruised
everywhere.

Anguished, Madison knew she’d screwed up royally. She should
have listened to the Marine captain. Why, oh why, did she let her curiosity get
the best of her? She’d been so excited about seeing Afghan horses. She worried
about her mother and father. By now, they probably knew she’d been captured.
God, she was causing them so much worry and grief. Wanting to be a good
representative of the United States, Madison had jumped into this with both
feet. Her father felt she could do it. Her mother, Tess, a large-animal vet, had
doubts. She worried about Madison being in a country at war.

Misery overwhelmed her. She had no idea what was going to
happen to her. Her father always called her a “risk taker.” Yeah, she was, but
this time, she’d gone too far.

The horses slowed. Finally, they stopped. Relief flooded her
body. Her legs were raw and she could feel her ankles were numb where they’d
tied her. The rope was beneath the belly of the horse, and if she fell off,
she’d be killed by the horse’s back hooves striking her body and head.

She heard men’s voices speaking in a language she thought was
Pashto. Someone untied one ankle. She was yanked roughly off the horse. Madison
was allowed to fall to the ground. Her legs collapsed beneath her. Her head
struck the ground, dazing her. She was yanked upright, the hood torn off.
Blinking, her hair a tangled and unruly mess around her face, she realized it
was still night. A man leaned over and untied her mouth. She spat out the
rag.

Her arms were numb. She’d felt blood earlier, warm and leaking
down her long fingers. Now she felt nothing. Her shoulders ached and burned as
she watched her captors lead the horses over to a small pool of water at the
bottom of a large, rocky canyon. The quarter moon gave her just enough light to
see what was going on.

One man, his eyes black and glittering, came over and untied
her hands. He stood with his rifle and threw a bottle of water into her lap.

Madison reached out for the water. Her fingers were numb. Fire
shot through her shoulders as she moved toward that precious bottle of water.
Closing her eyes, she gritted her teeth and then forced her unfeeling fingers
around the bottle. It took a minute to unscrew the lid but when the water flowed
into her mouth, Madison groaned. She gulped down the water, feeling lightheaded
and weak. When she finished it, the man threw her another bottle. She drank
three of them before she was sated. Her stomach growled. The last time she’d
eaten was at noon. She looked up at the soldier. Cringing inwardly, she noticed
the raw hatred in his eyes as he glared down at her.

Madison looked past him and saw all six horses drinking deeply
at the pool. Their bodies gleamed with sweat. They’d been pushed hard. As she
scanned the area, Madison thought they were in a canyon from what she could make
out in the deep shadows. Could she escape? Oh, God, if only she could!
Everywhere she looked, it was desolate and desert. Craning her neck, she looked
at the group of men standing, their heads together, talking quietly. What were
they going to do with her? Where were they taking her?

Her hands began to wake up. She could feel blood coming back
into them, the pain almost unbearable. Pushing the hair off her face, she felt
close to tears. What had she done? How was she going to get out of this? As she
looked up at the soldier guarding her, Madison felt the crushing answer. She
wasn’t getting out of this alive. She didn’t know the area. She had no water and
no food. These men knew this land because they lived here. Once again, she could
only feel dread for what would happen to her. Her one stupid, childish and
selfish mistake had landed her here. Tears burned in her eyes and she shut them.
Madison didn’t want them to see her cry and she sucked it up, burying it deep
within her.

“Get up!”

Madison snapped her head up. Another man in dark clothing
stood, his hands on his hips, glaring at her. “Y-you speak English?” she rasped,
her voice hoarse.

“Get up!” He gestured sharply to her.

Madison stood on wobbling legs. She saw the expression in the
leader’s face, behind the black beard hanging halfway down his narrow chest. He
turned and said something to the soldier. They both looked at her.

Suddenly, Madison felt like raw meat for sale, and it scared
the bejesus out of her. Were they going to rape her? Oh, God...

“Move!” the man barked, gesturing for her to walk to where the
horses stood.

Instantly, Madison moved. Relief shot through her. They weren’t
going to rape her. No...no, not that. Dazed, weak from not eating, she was
pushed toward the horse she’d been on before. In minutes, her hands were bound
behind her once more. Groaning, the pain hot and burning across her shoulders,
she was forced back onto the horse. They dragged the rope beneath the horse’s
belly and again her ankles were bound. They placed the hood back over her head.
The men mounted and the soldier who had guarded her tied the reins of her horse
to the back of his saddle. They kicked the animals, moving out at a fast
trot.

Madison found it tough to ride in this position. She compressed
her lips, looking around but seeing nothing. From earlier, she knew they were
moving out of the canyon and back on to the desert floor. Up ahead, huge
mountains rose to her right. Where were they taking her? Her mind cartwheeled
with terror. Wasn’t anyone going to try to rescue her? Did the Marines even know
she was gone? When she didn’t show up at dinner, surely they’d realized
something was wrong.

Tears began to leak down her drawn cheeks. Madison was alone.
No one knew where she was or what had happened to her. With one stupid decision,
her life, as she knew it, was over.

Copyright © 2013 by Lindsay McKenna

ISBN-13: 9781460321638

DEADLY CONTACT

Copyright © 2013 by Lara Kingeter

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