Page 50 of Lucky Charm
K-Rock brought up the rear and went down hard.
Fuck their luck.
Hunt took off, heading directly to the injured man. K-Rock struggled to his feet, cradling an arm.Baxter and Tommy saw Hunt head forward and slowed. He waved them on. “Move,” he yelled.
More gunfire. Hunt shifted and fired at the cliffs. He reached K-Rock, shoved an arm around the man’s back, and pulled him thirty yards to the waiting helicopter.
Doogie waited on the ground, firing his own weapon at the cliffs in sync with the gunships.
Bodily tossing K-Rock into the chopper, he signaled Doogie, who dove in the cabin behind the injured man.
Hunt took one quick final count and rolled into the cabin. “Last man. Last man,” he shouted to one of the crew. “Go. Go. Go.”
The pilot lifted the bird and turned south. The gunship hovered behind them and fired until they were safely out of range, then the medevac moved in tandem with their protectors to safer skies.
Hunt turned to find Cait again working on Quaid with Carter and a medic. She turned to check where he was, and he nodded at her to assure her he was all right.
The reassurance relaxed the lines around her eyes. He shifted into a seat where he could touch her in the blink of an eye if she needed him.
Mission success never tasted so sweet.
PART II
∞∞∞∞
“If he waits for the ideal moment,
he will never set off;
he requires a touch of madness
to take the next step.
The warrior uses that
touch of madness.
For – in both love and war –
it is impossible to
foresee everything.”
Paulo Coelho
∞∞∞∞
Chapter Nine
November 8, 2019
Day Four
The gossip at Bagram Air Base exploded. When Navy SEALS rescued an Army doctor off a mountain’s edge and fought dozens of insurgents to do so, the shock and awe of the rumors wouldn’t be contained.
Hunt’s after-mission debrief, while similar but secret, could only be described as fucking irritating. Swear words aside, Hunt buried his feelings.
Explanations to Commander Scott he could handle. The man was methodical and logical in his approach to mission reviews. If there was politics involved in what had happened, he would never hear it from Scott. Phillip Stocker, on the other hand, paced the small conference room and fired questions at him like a criminal interrogation in a tension-filled crime drama, putting every possible bad spin on the events. Hunt’s mood, already sour, deteriorated.
