Elle James - Five Ways To Surrender

A man in black clothing stepped into the building, pushing the door wider with the rifle he held in his hands.

As the light beam fanned out, it chased away the darkness of the rest of the room. In the gray light out of the sunshine’s wedge, Alex studied her captor.

He wore a desert-camouflage military uniform and a helmet, and carried a wicked-looking rifle of the type the Special Forces units carried. She searched for some indication of whose team he played for. Was he American, French or—God forbid—one of the paid mercenaries so often found in conflicts where they didn’t belong? He wasn’t from Niger. The skin she could see was too light. Granted, it appeared tanned, but not the rich darkness of the native Niger people.

The man who’d pushed open the door stepped inside the room, his weapon raised. Then he fired several bullets.

Alex flinched and shrank back into the corner. If the shooter turned any farther in their direction, he’d hit her captor.

The rebel turned slowly.

Alex’s captor leaped forward, slamming the butt of his weapon into the side of the shooter’s head. The weapon dropped from his hands and fell to the floor. Before the man could react, the military guy pulled a knife and slit the shooter’s throat. Her captor bent to retrieve the other man’s weapon. With equally efficient movements, he removed the bolt, slid it into his pocket and laid the remainder of the rifle on the ground next to the dead man.

Then her captor turned to her and held out his hand. “We have to move.”

She remained frozen in her position crouched on the floor of the hut, her heart beating so fast she could barely breathe to keep up with her need for oxygen.

His hand shot out, palm up. “Now!”

Alex stared at the big, calloused hand that had just dispatched a rebel fighter with such ease and efficiency of movement. Would he do the same to her?

Shouts outside the open door of the hut shook Alex out of her stunned silence.

Her captor dropped his arm, eased up to the door and glanced out. Without turning, he spoke softly, “If you want to live, come with me now.”

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Introductions later. Run now!” He hooked her arm, jerked her up off the floor and rushed her to the doorway.

After a quick pause, he dragged her out into the street and back toward the hills.

They’d gone past several huts when Alex remembered why she’d returned to the village in the first place. She dug her heels into the dirt and ripped her arm out of his grasp.

He wheeled around, his gaze shooting in all directions. “Why are you stopping?”

“I came to help Reverend Townsend and his wife,” she said.

His lips pressed into a thin line. “You can’t help anyone if you’re dead. We have to get out of the village, before they find that man’s body.”

“I didn’t kill him,” she pointed out. “You did.”

“It was him or us.” The man grabbed her arm and pulled her off the street and into the shadow of one of the huts. “Now isn’t the time to argue. The terrorists outnumber us twenty to one. And they won’t hesitate to shoot first. If they take prisoners, they won’t be kind to them.”

“Exactly my point. The reverend and his wife stayed behind with a new mother and her baby. I can’t leave them to the terrorists.”

“You will do them no good if these ISIS bad guys capture you, as well. The best we can do is get out of here, notify someone with more firepower than we have and let them launch a rescue mission.”

“Why should I go with you? I don’t even know if you’re one of the good guys.”

“If I was one of the bad guys, I would have left you behind for ISIS to find instead of wasting my time arguing with you.” He peeked around the corner of the building. “Now, if you’re done flapping your jaw, we need to move.”

He had an American accent, and, despite his gruff demeanor, he had saved her from being filled with bullets. Or had he saved himself? Either way, she was still alive and he was the reason.

This time he didn’t grab her and drag her; he glanced back and raised his eyebrows. “Ready?”

She nodded.

He held out his hand.

Alex laid hers in his. A jolt of awareness raced up her arm into her chest. His fingers curled around hers, strong, sure and rough. A fleeting thought ran through her mind. What would it feel like to have those hands run freely over her naked body?

Shocked at her thoughts, Alex shook herself and fell in step with the man who had her life in his hands. Once he got them out of the current situation, he could do anything he wanted with her.

A trickle of fear and something else slipped down her spine. Alex refused to think past getting out of the village to somewhere safe where they could hide. For all she knew, she was trading one bad set of cards for another.

* * *

JAKE HADN’T EXPECTED to find an American woman in the village. When she’d run into the hut where he’d been hiding, he knew he couldn’t leave without taking her with him. The ISIS terrorists would either kill her, or rape and torture her until she wished she were dead. Leaving her behind wasn’t an option. But taking her with him made them both more vulnerable. She slowed him down, and two people made a bigger target than just one person attempting to escape and evade capture.

With the sun starting its descent toward the horizon, their best bet would be to either make a dash for cover in the hills, or hunker down in one of the huts and wait until dark to make their move.

The crack of gunfire filled the air with the answer to Jake’s question. They had to get out now rather than later. When the terrorists found the dead man, they’d be out for blood. He felt bad about leaving behind the reverend, his wife and the new mother, but he couldn’t take on the entire ISIS force that had stormed the village. They were far outnumbered, and his ammo wouldn’t last long enough to take out all of them.

He prayed his diversion had bought the rest of the SEAL team time enough to get away from the ISIS rebels. They would expect him to seek refuge and escape from the occupied village before attempting to reconnect with friendly forces.

Jake wondered what had happened to the drone that was supposed to be flying over while they were on their mission. Had the drone been in the vicinity of the village, they would have known the ISIS group was on its way and either been prepared for the attack or gotten the hell out of Dodge before they’d arrived.

Instead, they’d been outmaneuvered and outgunned. If Jake hadn’t rammed the other truck, they would have been mowed down by the sheer number of bullets the terrorists could have unloaded into them.

Hut by hut, Jake led the way, making it to the edge of the village. He paused to assess the chances of strolling across a wide, barren expanse of land. By himself, he could low crawl or run in a zigzag line long enough to achieve the safety of cover behind some of the larger boulders at the base of the nearby hills. With the woman, he wasn’t sure he could reach safety before they were discovered, and he didn’t know her physical capabilities.

He ran his gaze over her length. “Can you run?”

The woman tilted her chin. “I was on the track team in high school.”

“I didn’t ask if you were on the track team.” He drew in a deep breath, let it out and asked again, “Can you run now?”

She frowned. A nearby shout made her jump. “Yes. Yes, I can run.” She inched closer to him.

“Then on the count of three, I want you to take off in front of me and run like the hounds of hell are on your heels. Keep as low as you can. I’ll be right behind you. Don’t slow down until you reach those boulders at the base of the hills.” He touched her arm. “Can you do it?”