Page 22 of Lucky Charm
“We’re going. Getting Doc outfitted to stay warm. We’re moving.”
He wrapped his big hand around her wrist and started again. The snowflakes dropped at an increasing pace, obscuring the path.
“Alpha Six, weather?”
Baxter’s words came in loud and clear. “Last word expecting ten to twenty inches, winds at twenty miles per hour.”
“We’re heading to the series of caves about three klicks from here on the map,” Hunt announced to the team. If their satellite photos were accurate.
Doogie frowned. “No easy way in or outta there, Alpha One, but it’s the closest. We can’t stay out here.”
They couldn’t go over the mountain either. In this range, the peak was close to fourteen thousand feet. If the cold and blizzard didn’t kill them, the altitude would. These foothills added three thousand feet to their normal elevation. A climb would add more. Lateral and diagonal moves would net a position where the rescue helicopter could get to them. But they were stuck with goat trails that followed no rhyme or reason and a hell of a climb to get into position. Throw in fifty enemy combatants with possible RPGs in the mix and it would get interesting.
Hunt agreed. Clicking his mic again, he added their objectives. “The package’s safety. Most important. Out of this weather the goal.”
“Adjust path, Alpha Six,” Doogie directed Baxter, who was point.
Carter spoke. “Does she need me to check her?”
He debated the request for half a second. “No. Got her bundled and next to me. Let’s keep moving.”
“I can leave them a few surprises on the trail.” K-Rock offered. The quick thinking, energized bunny, explosives playboy wanted to freak up the enemy.
“Let’s save it until we get farther on the trail. Quiet. Stealth. Make them look at all the trails and byways to find us. Explosives will be a big fucking follow-us sign. The weather will cover our tracks.”
Doc turned in his arms and looked at him, trying to understand the conversation. Realization flooded him. “Bax, find our extra headset and bring it back.” Leaving her cutoff from the tactical conversation was a mistake. Hearing their voices would help her participate and understand anything that was coming.”
Those deep blue eyes sank into his gut. The questioning there had to be answered. “Rest a minute,” he muttered.
“I’m okay.”
“I know. Baxter’s coming. Going to connect you to our communication.”
Surprise crossed her expression. “Thank you.”
“Should have thought of it sooner.” He didn’t explain the disquiet in his gut or move in any way to assuage his need to hold her, reassure her. But when she started to shiver, he didn’t question and slipped his arms around her, pulling her against him. “I know it’s cold.”
“I’m okay when we keep moving. It’s when we stop, the cold seeps in.”
Baxter arrived at her side, slipping in from the snow-filled trail in front of him. If he paused for a second when he saw Hunt with his arms around the woman, he didn’t show anything in expression or body language.
Doc jumped, not expecting Baxter, but Hunt kept his arms right where they were. Holding her calmed him.
“Set her up, Baxter.”
He had to release her, of course, and he undid her hood and the scarf around her neck himself. Baxter slipped the device on her, turned it on, and did a quick tutorial. Hunt took those few moments to study the man to ensure he was steady from the stomach bug this morning. Nothing obvious presented itself so Hunt dropped asking him. They had bigger problems. Baxter disappeared up the hill. Hunt refastened her headdress while she answered Baxter’s radio check with a quiet, firm voice.
If he’d had any doubts she would keep her cool under fire – and he hadn’t -- her calm voice amidst the situation reassured him. It was her “I’m-in-charge” doctor voice. The lead in his gut sat there, though. “We’re moving again.”
“Show me where to hold on to you so you can keep your hands free.”
“Let’s keep the way we are. My arm around you keeps you from falling and shields you from the wind. Drop if you hear gunfire.” If the enemy was that close, they had bigger problems. He didn’t tell her that.
Time ticked away.
The snowflakes swirled around them.
Their pace slowed against a wind whipping the flakes into a gusty blind.
