Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Finn struggled to open his eyes, to make sense of where he was and what had happened. His first instinct was to find his gun. Hamas was coming, weren’t they? But . . .
“Finn!” someone yelled. “Echo Five!”
Finn forced his eyes to stay open but couldn’t see a damn thing.
Dust and debris filled his line of sight, and he knocked his NVGs over his eyes to shield them from the sand.
“Everyone okay?” he called out, realizing he was still inside the chopper after the helo had lost control and they’d crash-landed in the desert.
“Finn, we need you.”
Roman? “Where are you?” Finn secured his rifle and pushed up from the floor of the fuselage. He felt pretty banged up but had no injuries that he could tell.
The pilot was either dead or unconscious, but he didn’t see the rest of Echo Team.
“Outside the chopper. Follow my voice,” Roman yelled, competing with the sandstorm that’d snuck up on them and tried to eat them alive like that mummy in the damn trailer for the movie he never wanted to watch after tonight.
Visibility was shit, and Finn could barely see beyond his hand. He pulled up his shemagh to cover his mouth and nose, then he reached out and moved his arm back and forth to avoid running into something.
When he stumbled his way out of the Black Hawk, someone grabbed hold of his arm and jerked him to the left.
“Wyatt’s down. He’s hurt. He needs you.” It was Chris this time.
“Wyatt?” No, damn it. “Everyone else on Echo okay? Bravo?” he asked as Chris guided Finn to wherever Wyatt was located.
The sand howled and swirled, an angry force trying to disrupt his attempts to get to Echo One.
“Everyone’s okay. Owen managed to land Bravo Team before they crashed, so they’re moving on foot through this shit to get to us, but they’re under heavy gunfire. That Hamas terrorist cell is on their ass, which means if Bravo finds us, Hamas does, too,” Chris answered.
“And Wyatt is in rough shape,” Roman said while coughing. Finn was only just able to make out his face as Roman held the shemagh over his own mouth. He had on NVGs as well, same as Chris.
Chris and Roman led the way to Wyatt’s location, and Finn knelt down beside his brother, finding A.J. across from him. “What happened?” How long was I out of it, damn it?
“He was thrown from the bird when we went down. Busted up his leg from what I can tell. He’s got a pulse, but I can’t see shit out here to examine him further, and he’s not waking the fuck up,” A.J. quickly explained.
“How long have we been down?” Finn removed his glove and found Wyatt’s pulse. It was steady, but he wouldn’t be able to examine him out in this mess.
“Thirty or so minutes ago,” A.J. shouted back, his hands on Wyatt’s chest assessing for more damage, but the vest full of mags blocked his access.
“You get a hold of Jess and Harper?” Finn asked while continuing to monitor Wyatt’s pulse.
“We lost communication with them after we went down, and Bravo shortly after that. But they’ll find a way to get to us. And they know about Wyatt, so Knox will call POTUS. He’ll force him to make the right call.”
And the right call sure as hell better be to do whatever it took to get Wyatt to a hospital. But first, they needed to get out of this mess they were in.
“It’s a fast-moving storm from the looks of it. Came out of nowhere,” Chris shouted. “It’s starting to blow past us, but that also means these Hamas fuckers will see us soon, and we’ll be sitting ducks.”
“We can’t leave Wyatt out here, and I can’t get a good look at him in this shit. We have to move him,” Finn decided. “But if his spine is injured, we’ll cause permanent damage if we’re not careful.”
Wyatt had had a bad feeling from the moment they’d arrived in Aswan, as if he somehow knew this day was coming.
But Finn was going to save him come hell or high water.
He hadn’t fought hard enough to save Jaden twenty years ago, and he’d be damned if he’d let Wyatt’s life slip through his fingers tonight.
“See if there’s a transfer board inside the bird,” he called out.
“Roman’s already grabbing it,” A.J. said, and Finn noticed A.J. reaching for something on his wrist, but he couldn’t quite make out what he was doing.
“Hang on to this . . . buddy. You’ll be ok-okay,” A.J. said as if choking on a mouthful of sand.
The black band.
The lucky band Marcus had always worn, except on the day he died, the day Bravo lost him.
The guys rotated wearing it in his memory and honor.
A.J. slipped it onto Wyatt’s wrist, and Finn’s throat grew tight with emotion.
The last time the band had been passed out of turn was to save the lives of Luke and Jessica in Afghanistan, and now they sure as hell needed to save Wyatt’s.
They needed some more of the good luck Marcus’s band would bring them.
Of course, Finn had never considered it good luck as much as it was Marcus watching over them.
They couldn’t lose anyone else. One was already too many.
“He’s going to be okay. Pulse is still strong,” Finn said, and Roman appeared a moment later with the board.
Finn and the others surrounded Wyatt and gently shifted him onto it, doing their best to keep his spine straight.
“Easy, easy,” Finn instructed as they cut through the dust that wasn’t quite as thick now and had become more like wind kicking up a bunch of dirt in their faces.
“Pilot is still out cold, but he doesn’t look injured,” Roman said once they carefully set the transfer board down inside the helo, and Finn dropped to his knees to try and better examine Wyatt.
“We’ve got incoming,” A.J. hollered a moment before gunfire crackled in the air. “We’ll cover you. Just take care of Echo One.”
“Be careful.” The guys had no clue how many tangos were out there or what they were up against. But Finn knew Bravo would be close by. They’d never leave Echo Team out there alone.
Finn shifted his rifle to his side in case he needed to reach for it in a hurry, then knocked his NVGs to the top of his head to take a closer look at the damage to Wyatt’s body.
His shoulders jerked when a bullet pinged inside the bird. And then another.
Finn shielded Wyatt with his own body, covering his face to protect Echo One to the best of his ability as more and more bullets flew around.
He kept his head low and snatched his sidearm in one quick movement when he spied a tango approaching from around the bird, and he snapped out a shot and dropped the guy.
“They’re surrounding us on all sides,” Chris said as he took out two tangos while jumping into the bird. “We don’t have enough coverage.”
They’d been in jams before but not being able to see your enemy was a big disadvantage.
Chris remained on one side of Wyatt to protect him and Finn on the other. He’d have to examine Wyatt once they eliminated the immediate threats.
Chris reached for the radio. “TOC, do you come in? TOC, do you come in?”
Static cut over the line, the storm still blocking the signal.
Could the drone overhead see them?
“Bravo Five is . . . on . . .” Jessica’s voice came over the radio a second later, and Finn’s heart jumped. “Air support . . . stay inside the . . . bird.”
Finn spotted another tango on approach, and he aimed for the head. Missed. Shot him again. Stay down, please. Unlike some of those pricks at the compound who’d kept coming like they were in a zombie apocalypse movie.
“Get back in the bird,” Chris called out to Roman and A.J., who quickly appeared. “Jessica is telling us to stay inside.”
“Knox must have made a call to his dad. We’ve got backup on its way,” Chris told the guys, and they remained in positions to ward off threats, keeping their bodies around Wyatt as a layer of protection for Echo One. They couldn’t lose their team leader.
“Air support?” Roman coughed. “The Navy must have a ship on the Red Sea. No other way to get here that fast,” he added before shooting a guy who came bursting through the dust, almost entering the helo.
“I don’t know. I don’t care who helps,” A.J. answered, staying on guard behind his rifle. “They just need to get here fast.”
“But can they see us and the bad guys? Can they fly in this shit?” Finn asked.
“It’s clearing up,” Chris said. “But I don’t know.”
“It’s me. Don’t shoot!” someone yelled a second later, and relief filled Finn at the realization it was Knox. He must have driven there with one of their Land Cruisers. Finding them was a miracle in itself.
As Knox hopped into the helo, Finn dropped a tango aiming at him. “Thanks, brother.” Knox lowered to one knee with his rifle. “Five more minutes, and we should have air support clear a path for us. I’ll drive you to where Bravo landed, and we’ll medevac Wyatt to the ship.”
Thank God for the Navy and Knox’s connections.
“I have a feeling that when your dad found out you left your cushy TOC post to come play in the sand with terrorists tonight, he suddenly ‘remembered’ us,” A.J. said but remained steady and focused, continuing to check for tangos.
“Something like that. Sorry it took so long to get to you. Damn sand.” Knox peeked back at Wyatt on the helo’s floor, and Finn was able to see much better, which meant their enemies would be able to soon as well. “Hang in there, brother.”
“Where’s Bravo? Carter?” Finn asked.
“They’ve been told to stand down and head back to their bird while the pilots handle these pricks,” Knox informed them.
A few minutes and about four more kills later, Finn heard the familiar scream of jets overhead and the explosive sound of sand being obliterated—hopefully along with the bad guys.
“If that ain’t the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” A.J. smiled.
Finn waited for the gunfire to stop, then turned back to Wyatt. “Let’s get our man to safety.”