Page 37 of A SEAL's Protection
There’s a crevice that’s just big enough to wedge my boot into, and I tuck my foot in, then push through my thighs, using the strength in my legs to push myself upwards.
Marcus is already at the first anchor point. He slides his rope up and clips into it, then turns around to check on me. I give him a thin smile, trying to show more confidence than I feel.
My legs ache from the relentless pace of the last few days, and it stings where I scraped my hand. But I’m not about to let him see my discomfort.
Marcus scans the ravine behind us with a frown on his face. He turns back to the cliff and effortlessly pushes up to the next hold.
I strain forward, following his movements but at a slower and less graceful pace.
I pass the first anchor point, and this is where the route goes sideways. I stop to catch my breath as the wind whips against my pack.
My palms are sweaty, and I carefully let go of my hold to wipe one and then the other on my top. I can’t afford to lose anything this time, not when my pack contains my precious samples.
Marcus moves with calm precision ahead of me, and I push forward, trying to follow his path.
“You’re doing great.” His calm voice settles my racing heart. “Keep it nice and steady. We’re halfway there.”
My muscles scream out at me, and my thigh wobbles at the next push upward. But I keep my eyes on the cliff ahead of me and refuse to look down to the rocks below.
I reach for a hold, and my fingers find a deep crevice. My foot struggles to find a hold as I try to remember the exact route Marcus took.
I’m dragging my foot up the cliff when there’s a loud crack.
It echoes across the ravine, and fragments of rock splinter near my foot. My foot jerks wide, and I slip, my thighs scraping the rock face. I give out a yelp and look down. Big mistake. Chips of rock cascade down to the rocks below.
I glance up at Marcus, and he’s glaring across the ravine. I turn my head to follow his gaze, and my blood turns as cold as the stone I’m climbing.
A man stands on the other side of the ravine. He’s dressed in black and pointing a gun straight at me.
Another shot rings out, and more chips fly near my feet.
“Allegra, move!” Marcus barks, his voice taking on a clipped, commanding tone I haven’t heard before. “Fast!”
Adrenaline bursts through my veins, and I scramble upwards. My fingers claw at the cliff face, reaching for holds in the rock that aren’t there. A sob bubbles out of my throat, and I push it down. This is not the time to fall apart. I make myself focus on the cliff and search for a handhold that will take my weight.
I pull myself up and drag my feet with me. It’s not good climbing technique, but it’s the fastest way I can get up this damned cliff.
Marcus is almost at the top when another shot rings out. He swings wide as stone flies from the place where he was a moment ago. But there’s something wrong with his grip. His shoulder smashes against the cliff face, and he grunts in pain.
The rope slides out of his hand, and we both fall.
My heart stops for a beat until the safety line goes taut and jerks us both. I smash against the rocks, letting out an oomph as the breath rushes out of me.
Marcus braces against the fall, but when I look up he’s hanging by one arm. The other hangs limp at his side.
“Marcus!” My heart jumps into my throat.
I dare a glance across the ravine. The man lines his gun up, this time aiming straight at Marcus.
17
MARCUS
Pain shoots through my shoulder, turning my vision white. My shoulder has popped out, the old injury flaring up when I swung wide to dodge the bullet. Sharp pain spirals down the shoulder and through my arm. I’ve been in pain before, but this is agony.
My vision blurs, and I think I’m going to pass out. But I can’t pass out, not here. Not when Allegra needs me.
I push the pain down and grit my teeth. I brace my legs and pull my arm up to grasp the rope. Hot pain sears through the joint, making me hiss.
