Chapter 25
Goddamn it.
This was bad.
His stomach was knotted so tight, it felt like a fuse wired to an unexploded bomb, each second ticking toward an inevitable detonation.
“Checkpoint is ten klicks south,” Stitch called as they took the bumpy dirt road out of the village. The Land Rover bounced along, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them.
The only thing that mattered was getting Lily across undetected. He had to admit, she didn’t look like a western woman. Soraya had done a fantastic job hiding her blonde hair. Add the veil, and she’d be unrecognizable.
He met her gaze in the rearview mirror. The eyeliner made her brown eyes seem enormous and brought out the gold flecks in her irises. He knew she was scared, saw it in the way she looked at him—a silent plea, like she wanted to fly straight into his arms.
If only.
Shit. She was tearing him apart.
Normally, he kept a professional distance from hostages. They did what he said, and he helped as best he could. But with her… He heaved a silent sigh.
Lily was different.
Breaking eye contact, he tried to focus on the operation ahead. If anything, he was the more vulnerable party. Stitch, in his traditional clothes, blended right in, while he, with his army fatigues, gear and rifle, looked exactly like what he was.
The enemy.
Still, he wasn”t prepared to abandon his gear for the sake of a disguise that probably wouldn”t work anyway. He didn”t have the dark, bearded looks of the Afghan men, and his physique practically screamed military. If they were stopped and searched, he”d much rather be ready for it than not.
The Land Rover featured a spacious backseat, and a glass partition separated it from the front, where Stitch and Lily sat side by side. Initially, they kept the divider open for easy conversation, but as they neared the checkpoint, Stitch slid it shut, concealing their hidden passenger in the back to avoid raising the guards” suspicions.
Lily pulled up her face veil and glanced once more in the mirror. He shook his head. No one must know he was there.
She turned her gaze forward, took a deep breath, and stiffened her shoulders.
How fucking brave was she? After all she’d been through.
A real trooper.
Having evaded the Taliban for so long, they were now heading straight for them. It seemed counter-intuitive, but it was the quickest way to get Lily to Kabul, where they’d be able to fly her out.
Blade hunkered down and pulled a dark blanket over himself. His backpack was stored in the spare tire well in the trunk area, and his rifle was on his lap, ready to fire. It was virtually invisible without a thorough search.
Plan A was for them to get through the checkpoint unnoticed. If not and Blade was discovered, Plan B was for them to claim he’d hijacked them and they were transporting him under duress.
He’d be arrested, but they might make it through.
They hadn’t told Lily that part. If it came to it, he prayed she’d go along with it.
Traffic backed up as they approached the bridge. Stitch, with his flawless Pashto, would quite easily be accepted as a local villager. The Land Rover posed a small problem since it was an ex-army vehicle, but since the Americans had cleared out of the country, there were a lot of similar vehicles about. It wasn’t a stretch that a respectable Afghan doctor had purchased one on the cheap.
Just in case, Stitch had an AK hidden beside the handbrake and a combat knife concealed under his robes.
“One klick out,” Stitch said for his benefit.
He had to rely on his buddy’s updates because he couldn”t see shit with his head under the blanket. Adrenaline surged, elevating his heart rate, but he controlled it by concentrating on his breathing.
“Eight guards spread out along the checkpoint. Two more in the hut.” Stitch’s voice was steady, years of training kicking in.
Fuck.
Ten armed men were too many to take out if there was a problem. They could all be killed in the ensuing gunfight, along with Lily and a bunch of innocent civilians.
“I’ve got your back, buddy.” Stitch had come to the same conclusion.
Blade didn’t doubt it. He’d do the same if the roles were reversed.
He prayed it wouldn’t come to that.
“Contact,” Stitch murmured. “Guard approaching driver”s window.”
The locational references were so Blade had the best chance of escape if shit hit the fan.
He hunkered down, hands on his weapon, forcing his body to relax. No movement. Nothing to arouse their suspicion.
A tap on the window. He heard Stitch slide it down. There was an exchange of words, but it was all in Pashto. Blade couldn’t follow what they were saying.
The guard said something about the woman. He caught that, and went cold.
Stitch replied, and there was a rustling of papers. He was showing the guards his documents. Forged, on his part, and Soraya’s for Lily.
Blade tensed. Were they going to have a problem?
Footsteps around the vehicle, a tap on the passenger window.
“Don’t move,” Stitch whispered to her. “Keep your eyes down.”
The guard tapped again, harder this time, then barked an order. He wanted Lily to get out of the Land Rover.
“What do I do?” she whispered.
“Stay put.” Stitch knew as well as he did, that once they got out of the car, they were as good as done for. It was a lot easier to get away if you were still in your vehicle.
Stitch leaned across Lily, putting his hand on his weapon as he did so, and shouted at the guard. It was something along the lines of: What are you doing? My wife and I want to go shopping in Kabul.
That was their cover story.
The guard kept trying the door, but Stitch wouldn”t unlock it.
Then he banged on it with the butt of his rifle. There was no mistaking his meaning. He wanted Lily to get out.
Well, that was never going to happen.
The guard moved to the rear door and tried to open that one. Blade was seconds away from being discovered.
“Now,” murmured Stitch.
Without removing the blanket, Blade pulled the trigger and the glass window exploded. Lily screamed, and the checkpoint guard reeled backward, his face a bloody mess.
“Stitch, make sure you both get out of here!” Blade opened the door.
Lily spun round. “No!”
Stitch pulled her roughly back. “Stay still. Put up your hands.”
“Hands up? Why?”
“Lily, listen to Stitch.”
She raised her hands, her face ashen. Stitch did the same, leaving his gun where it was.
Nine armed guards sprinted toward them, weapons raised. It was a miracle they hadn’t opened fire.
“You sure?” Stitch asked, over his shoulder.
“Stick to the story.” Blade wasn”t going to create a bloodbath.
Lily was crying now.
“Take care of her.”
Stitch nodded.
Blade walked away from the car, his hands in the air.