Page 20 of Tate
He leaped into a wadi, rolled, and came up with his HK45 and pumped two shots into the chest of the man lipping his foxhole.
The man dropped like an anvil on top of him.
The action screwed with his NVGs and he went blind, the glasses breaking free from his helmet.
Shoot!
He wrenched them up, but he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face.
He pushed the assailant off him and rounded up to his knees, blinking.
C’mon, adjust. Shooter four was out here, somewhere?—
Scarlett’s unsanctioned scream shrilled through his comms headset. Piercing, bright, and he scrambled to his feet, every nerve on alert.
“Behind you!”
He whirled and shot, still blind.
An explosion slammed into his armor, a punch that caught him center mass, right in his chest plate, blowing him back, the air whooshing out of his lungs.
He landed hard into a pile of sandstone and rubble, the world gray and formless.
“Get up!”
Scarlett.
Yes. Get up! But the shot had shaken his .45 from his grip.
“He’s on top of you!”
He brought his knees up, ready to defend, his hand on the straight blade Winkler on his war belt.
A shot sounded, but the shadowy form in front of him kept coming.
Ford’s chest was on fire, but he shouted it away, rolled to his feet, yanked out his blade, and leaped for the target.
Moments later, Cruz ran up, breathing hard. “I missed him. Sorry.”
“I didn’t.” Ford cleaned his knife, his eyesight adjusting, finally, and resheathed it. “Let’s go.”
Shouts now from the compound, thanks to his unsuppressed shots, but he didn’t turn around, just hoofed it behind Cruz up the hillside.
They ran silently, Nez checking in when they reached the Black Hawk, now cycling up. The sound thundered across the canyon and the helicopter lifted.
“We’re picking you up,” Nez said.
Scarlett’s voice came again, calmer. “You have two trucks on your six, gaining fast.”
Ford affirmed and conveyed her sit-rep to Nez, but he didn’t slow, and next to him, despite nearly a decade of wear on him, Cruz was outrunning him.
Yeah, well, Cruz didn’t nearly have a hole blown through him.
The beautiful black bird rose just ahead of them, and in moments it hovered low enough for Cruz to throw himself onto the deck. Nez raked him in.
Shots dinged off the wheel struts.
Nez held out his hand and Ford leaped for it. Sonny grabbed his body wrap, and even Kenny gave him a hand as they lugged him aboard.
