Chapter 24
“Link, go! Go! Go!” Swede’s voice, usually calm, was now sharp with alarm, cutting through the general chatter.
“Contact! Multiple vehicles, fast movers, converging on your position. Looks like Faisal’s personal guard.
They’ve mounted rocket launchers on those jeeps, Link.
They’re mobilizing, and they know you have them! ”
Noor’s eyes snapped open, every nerve screaming. The brief moment of emotional release vanished, replaced by an icy dread. Not yet. Not safe yet. She tried to push herself up in the wheelchair, her injured body protesting with sharp jolts of pain, but it was useless.
The landing strip erupted.
“We don’t have time! Sammy, burn it all!
Don’t leave anything behind!” Shadow’s voice, usually careful, was shrill with alarm as he ripped cables from a monitor, shoving the proprietary components into a reinforced pack.
Sammy, already moving, tossed a small incendiary device into the main server rack, then swept a gloved hand across the remaining surfaces, ensuring no stray equipment or data remained.
A small, controlled plume of smoke began to curl from the collapsing gear as Shadow pulled Sammy towards the Black Hawks.
The distant thudding grew rapidly into a furious, ground-shaking roar.
A flurry of dust and activity marked the return of Link, Jax, Blast, and Tank.
They burst into view from the direction of the wellhead, sprinting hard across the open ground.
Link, his face streaked with dirt but eyes blazing with fierce determination, cradled Yasmin protectively against his chest. Jax, matching his pace, held Amina with equal care.
Behind them, Blast and Tank formed a formidable rear guard, their rifles up, scanning the perimeter.
“They’re here!” Sammy shouted, his voice a mix of terror and triumph as he saw them. He darted from the command post, his earlier hope now fueled by frantic urgency. Shadow was already halfway to the approaching team, waving them toward the waiting choppers.
“Move! Move! Move!” Link roared, his voice cutting through the din. He didn’t break stride, heading directly for the nearest Black Hawk. The pilots, already alerted by Swede’s frantic call, had the engines spooling up, the rotors whipping the desert air into a hurricane of sand and grit.
The door of the first Black Hawk slid open.
Inside, a quick glance confirmed the custom work: child booster seats discreetly integrated into the heavy-duty bench seating.
Link didn’t hesitate as he climbed in, his grip on Yasmin unwavering.
Close behind, Jax carefully placed Amina into the seat beside her sister.
Shadow met them halfway, vaulting into the helicopter to take a defensive position near the open door.
Enzo, Jake, and Thorn arrived, sweat slick on their brows, breaths heavy but faces set with grim focus. Without missing a beat, they pitched in to load gear and prepare the bird.
Jake and Thorn moved together, their motions calm and deliberate as they lifted Noor with care, easing her into a seat and securing her firmly.
The wheelchair was pushed aside, no longer needed.
Nearby, Link fastened Yasmin into her car seat, his hands steady even as adrenaline surged beneath the surface.
As Link strapped in beside Noor, their eyes met—a brief, intense connection. No words were needed. In that look, she saw relief, grim resolve, and a fierce, unspoken promise.
Her gaze flickered to her daughters, nestled safe, then to Link—and finally to Sammy, determination etched on his face as he sprinted toward the second Black Hawk.
“Warden! Blast! Tank! Dog! Nova! Spider! Sammy! To the second bird—NOW!” Link’s voice, strained but clear, cut through the comms with urgency.
“Should he be going there? With all the thugs still out there…” Noor’s voice trailed off, the worry raw and unfiltered.
Link met her gaze, understanding the fear behind her words. “It’s too late to change plans now,” he said firmly.
Noor bit her lip, nodding slowly but still unsettled. The clock was ticking, and the danger closing in made every decision feel heavier than the last.
The second Black Hawk’s powerful engines roared to life behind Link, a matching beast stirring from its slumber.
He watched as Warden’s team scrambled aboard in a blur of tactical gear and grim faces.
Dog and Nova had descended from the ridge and moved with lethal efficiency.
Link saw Nova give Sammy a brief, reassuring nod before pulling him swiftly into the cabin.
Link’s Black Hawk shuddered powerfully as it lifted off the ground, tilting sharply into the air. The desert below blurred, the compound’s lights shrinking rapidly behind them. Moments later, the second Black Hawk, a dark shape against the angry sky, roared up in tight escort.
Noor looked back, past Link’s shoulder, her gaze fixed on the other Black Hawk. Link knew she wasn’t just worried about Sammy, but for the entire team, the brave men and women who were now their family. He keyed his comms. “Warden, status check.”
“All good here, Link,” Warden’s voice came back, calm despite the roar of the engines. “We’re tucked in. Holding tight.”
Link nodded grimly. The danger wasn’t over.
Swede’s frantic warning about enemy jeeps equipped with rocket launchers still echoed through the comms. They were airborne but not safe until they’d crossed the border from Syria into Jordan.
He could see the faint glow of the border markers ahead, a shimmering line of promised safety, perhaps only a minute or two away. Almost there.
Then, the night sky erupted.
Tracers flared up from the desert floor below and behind them, bright red streaks slashing upwards through the darkness like furious, venomous insects. Machine gun fire chattered, followed by the unmistakable whoosh of rockets.
“Evasive maneuvers! Brace!” Link’s pilot yelled, yanking the stick hard. The Black Hawk banked violently, G-forces pinning Link, Noor, and the girls against their seats. Across the cabin, Jax and Shadow instinctively braced themselves, weapons already up, scanning the night for targets.
Link fought to look out the window. His heart hammered against his ribs as he saw the second Black Hawk, mere yards behind them, swerve sharply to avoid an incoming rocket. It was too slow.
A blinding flash exploded against the second helicopter’s tail rotor. The bird bucked, listing hard, its powerful engines sputtering and screaming in protest. A plume of black smoke streamed from its rear, lit horribly by the tracers still crisscrossing the night.
“Warden! Report!” Link yelled into his comms, but all he got was static, then a guttural shriek that was abruptly cut short.
The crippled Black Hawk fought valiantly.
Its pilot, a phantom of skill against the impossible odds, somehow held it steady for agonizing seconds, guiding it in a desperate, controlled descent.
It slammed down hard, skidding across the desert floor in a shower of sparks and sand, its rotors shearing off with a horrendous scream of metal.
It wasn’t an explosion, but a violent, grinding stop, sending a mushroom cloud of dust high into the air.
The wreckage, smoking and crumpled, came to rest barely a quarter-mile from the faint border lights, still clearly on the Syrian side.
“No!” Noor’s scream was a raw, guttural cry, echoing the devastation unfolding outside.
“Link, we’re crossing the border now!” his pilot shouted, pulling back on the collective. “Just over the line, sir!”
The first Black Hawk slammed down hard onto Jordanian soil, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and sand along the border. Link was already unstrapping, his eyes fixed on the burning wreckage just a few kilometers behind them, a beacon of horror in the Syrian night.
Sammy. Warden. Nova. Dog. Blast. Tank. Spider.
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.