Radclyffe - Code of Honor

A nearby explosion threw his face into bright relief as he turned to her, a faint smile on his face. The rifle swung in her direction and she fired.

*

Loren raced across the center of the camp, skirting abandoned vehicles whenever she could, trying for cover and hoping to avoid getting caught up in the firefight. Ramsey crouched behind the hood of an overturned Humvee, firing his automatic at anything that moved. When he saw her, he screamed, “What the fuck is this? Are those fucking missiles ?”

“I don’t know,” Loren yelled, crouching beside him. “But there’s more than a fucking militia shooting at us!”

Ramsey hunched lower when another explosion kicked up rocks, and shards of metal clanged off the Humvee. “Motherfucker! We’re outgunned with those things falling on us. We need to get out of here.”

“Fucking A we do,” she said, although she doubted he’d be able to organize the scattered bikers into any kind of retreat. At least he wouldn’t see her searching for Sky. “Go ahead. I’ll cover you.”

He scuttled back a foot, stared at her. “Watch your ass, McElroy.”

“You know it. I’ll be right behind you!” Loren laid down cover fire, and Ramsey disappeared. She waited half a minute and took off running in the direction her prisoner had taken. Halfway to the building at the edge of the clearing, she saw a figure running for the woods. Sky.

A surge of triumph filled her. Sky was alive.

A man appeared, rifle aimed in Sky’s direction.

She pulled up, aimed, but before her finger depressed the trigger, he fell. From ten feet away, a banshee howl split the air. She spun—the woman she’d been chasing stood backlit by flame, her face a contorted mask of rage. She pointed her Glock at a second woman running after Sky.

“Drop it,” Loren yelled.

The woman dove and fired. Searing pain creased Loren’s forehead, and she landed hard on her back. She tried to focus, struggled to aim her weapon, but the woman had already melted into the shadows. Dazed, she lay on the ground waiting for her ears to stop ringing, staring at the clouds swirling overhead in macabre death’s-head constellations of terror and despair.

She couldn’t stay here. Sky was waiting. Wiping the blood from her eyes, she staggered to her feet and stumbled toward the woods.

*

Cam staggered a few feet into the woods, her right leg burning, and braced one arm against the trunk of a birch tree for support. She trained her weapon in the direction of the clearing they’d just left. Someone in the camp had to know they were gone by now. The sound of small-arms fire was slowing down to the occasional burst. Either ammo was running low or they’d managed to kill each other off. And she had no idea if help was on the way. “Keep going,” she said to Dunbar. “Head downhill as much as you can. Come morning, they’ll be looking for us.”

“No way,” Dunbar said, taking cover behind an adjacent tree. “You need all the firepower you can get.”

“I’ll follow you as soon as it’s clear. That’s an order.”

Dunbar laughed. “Sorry, I don’t work for Homeland.”

“Everyone works for Homeland.”

“Can’t do it—if I left you hanging out to dry, my ass would be—”

A figure lurched out of the dark fifteen feet away.

Cam shouted, “Drop your weapon, federal agents.”

“I’m FBI, I’m FBI,” a woman called.

“Come forward slowly, keep your hands out to your sides,” Cam said.

Sky pushed past Cam with a sharp cry. “Loren!” She threw her arm around Loren’s waist. “Loren, God, you’re hit.”

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” Loren leaned into Sky. “You hurt?”

“Nothing serious.”

Loren peered at Cam. “Loren McElroy, Director Roberts. We ought to move our asses out of here.”

“I agree.” Cam motioned toward the forest. “They’ll be looking for us before long. If we can find a defensible position, we might be able to hold them off until an extraction team finds us.”

“We’ve already got aerial surveillance,” Loren said. “They’ll have eyes on us soon if they don’t already, and a Delta Team on the ground before morning. I’m the least injured. You two go, and I’ll guard the rear.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Sky said.

“Nobody’s leaving anyone.” Cam put some weight on her leg, gritted her teeth when pain knifed up her calf. “Everyone check your ammo, and then let’s get the hell out of here.”

Chapter Forty

Blair’s cell phone rang, followed half a second later by Stark’s. Blair stood, pressed the phone to her ear. “Yes?”

“She’s safe,” Lucinda said.

Blair wrapped one arm around her middle, fighting off a wave of dizziness, as relief poured through her. Turning away from Stark, who spoke in a low murmur to someone, she walked to the hotel window and looked out over the snowy vista. The early-morning sun was so bright, tears filled her eyes. “Where is she?”

“They’re en route by helo to the 366th Med Group at Mountain Home base. They might be there by now.”

Hospital. The word cut her breath. “Is she hurt?”

“Blair,” Lucinda said gently, “I don’t have all the details. There are some injuries, yes. All of them have been through a lot. But they’re all alive.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“No. All I got was a sit rep from the Delta Team leader that they’d made contact and were extracting three agents. What matters is they’re safe now.”

“Thank you. Thank you, Luce.” Blair’s mind finally started working. “I need to get over there.”

“Just be careful. We don’t know the status of the kidnappers or how many others might be involved who weren’t at the compound.”

“Stark is here. I’ll be fine. I have to go.” Blair disconnected and slid the phone into a pocket. She took several deep breaths and turned to Stark. “How soon can we leave?”

“I’ve already called the team. We’ll have a car downstairs by the time you’re ready.”

“Thanks.” Blair threw her things into her suitcase, and they were on their way in less than five minutes.

Once on the road, Blair curled up in the corner of the SUV and stared out the window. Cam was alive. She couldn’t think of a single thing that mattered beyond that. She just needed to see her, to know how badly she was hurt, to touch her. God, to touch her again.

“Here,” Stark said, handing her a cup of coffee. “You’ll need this. If you’re hungry we’ve got doughnuts.”

Blair stared at the takeout cup that said Chrissie’s in big swirly pink letters. “Where did it come from?”

Stark smiled. “Diner across the street. I told Mac to grab something when he was bringing the car around.”

“You’re really going above and beyond the call, and I appreciate it.”

“I don’t think so.” Stark sighed. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Believe me, I never want you to have to do more, because I know what that would mean.”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Stark said. “I wouldn’t want to do anything else. It’s just that…I wanted to be out there looking for the commander as badly as you did.”

“Just remember that Cam didn’t have to spend any time worrying about me because of you. And that helped her do what she needed to do.”

Stark blushed. “I hope so.”

The SUV slowed at the gate, the guard checked their IDs, and then they moved onto the air force base and followed the signs to the medical center. Another guard directed them to the emergency entrance. Blair climbed out and, surrounded by her detail, made her way into the ER. A youngish man with short brown hair and flashing dark eyes, wearing scrubs, came forward immediately.