Dangerous Attraction Romantic Suspense Boxed Set (12 page)

They moved fast to evacuate. The girls were clearly frightened despite the adults’ efforts to keep them calm. They knew what gunfire meant better than anyone. Some were crying by the time they reached the exit and stepped outside into the afternoon air. The sun was already descending in the sky, leaving shadows crawling across the valley floor.

Not daring to look behind her, Khalia’s eyes fixed on her target, the emergency bunker. Across the expanse of lush green grass before her, the beckoning hillside seemed impossibly far away. A warning prickle began at her nape, as if someone had her in their sights and was taking aim at her. More shots erupted from the hills behind them. The lead group broke into run. The long line of students stretched out before her, racing after Ray as he led them across the thick green grass.

The volume of fire suddenly increased. It rang out from the surrounding hills, echoing in the tense stillness. A few girls cried out in panic and confusion, whirled around to see what was happening. Khalia’s heart twisted at the raw fear she read in their faces.

The six year old she’d been cuddling earlier tripped on the hem of her robe and fell headlong on the ground while her classmates raced past her. She scrambled to her knees, whimpering in terror. Khalia ran over and scooped her up, holding her tight against her body. The little girl clung to her in desperation, crying against the side of her neck in muffled sobs.

Anger and terror warred inside her that these radical assholes could terrorize helpless children this way. Whispering reassurances to the girl and hoping her tone would help despite the language barrier, Khalia ran behind the others. Hunter and the rest of the team were still out there. Were they okay?

Rushing toward their only protection until the gun battle was over, she sent up a silent prayer that Hunter and the team would reach them before the Taliban did.

Chapter Eight

Through his high-powered binoculars, Hunter tracked the students’ steady progress across the grassy plain. Khalia was bringing up the rear, carrying a little girl. When she at last reached the emergency bunker and disappeared inside it, some of the tension in his shoulders eased.
Good girl.

“They’re secure,” he said in a low voice to Gage over the squad radio. “Let’s move.” Grabbing his rifle, he climbed to his feet and prepared to make the fifty yard run across the open space to a clump of bushes he’d chosen for his next cover.

Currently making their way down the hillsides on two sides of the valley wall, the Taliban fighters seemed to be converging. So far Hunter’s team had spotted fourteen in total. That didn’t account for any others hidden from view or possible reinforcements coming in from other areas.

Charging over the grass to his new position, he dropped to one knee and took another look around. “I’m in position. Dunphy, give me status.”

The spotter’s steady voice came through the earpiece. “Four tangos moving down a trail to your ten o’clock.”

Hunter’s gaze immediately swung over there. Through the binos he could make out the shapes of the enemy approaching, thin men dressed in long black tunics, baggy pants and turbans. They were still too far away for him to get a clear shot. “I see them. Gage?”

Six security team members now formed a protective perimeter around the school, with Ellis and Dunphy concealed in their sniper hide on the far hillside to keep an eye on the enemy’s movements.

“Heads up, we’ve got company inbound. The cavalry has arrived,” Dunphy said dryly.

The sound of a vehicle’s engine reached him seconds later, then a Pakistani military truck rumbled over a distant hill, no doubt alerted by the gunfire. “That didn’t take long,” Hunter muttered.

“So, why am I not happy to see them?” Gage remarked.

“Because they can never make up their minds which side they’re fighting for?” suggested Braithwaite, the other team leader.

“What he said,” Hunter agreed. “Okay, those assholes up there are way too far away to hit anything, but it looks like they’re not going to take their ball and go home anytime soon. Gage, you and I’ll link up with the Paks and give them the SITREP.”

“Roger that.”

“Ellis, you and Dunphy keep an eye out and let us know if things are about to get hot.”

“Roger,” the sniper replied.

Keeping his weapon at the ready in front of his body, muzzle down, Hunter rose to a crouch and hustled south to link up with Gage. From the left distant hillside, the Taliban let loose with a flurry of useless shots.

Gage was waiting for him at the RV point. “They have my permission to keep wasting ammo like that all day long,” his second-in-command said in approval.

“Hell yeah.”

The Pakistani truck was a short jog away. Together they approached the six soldiers climbing out of the back. Gage’s Urdu wasn’t quite fluent, but it was a hell of a lot better than Hunter’s and it sure came in handy at times like this. All the soldiers had their fingers on their trigger guards and wore resentful expressions, as though they blamed Hunter and his crew for this latest incident.

The officer in charge, a kid who looked like he was in his early twenties, called out to them and Gage started talking. The look on the Pakistani officer’s face was priceless. His eyes widened and his expression went blank with surprise while he digested the fact that a redheaded westerner was speaking to him in his own language.

With the translation it took a few minutes to inform them of what was going on and establish jurisdictions. The Paks agreed to engage the Taliban if they attacked and Hunter was authorized to protect the school and its grounds, including everyone hidden away in the bunker.

“Got movement at your two o’clock.”

At Dunphy’s announcement Hunter instinctively glanced over his shoulder at the foothills. Those ballsy bastards were coming closer, edging down the trails that led to the valley floor. He turned back to Gage. “Tell him I’ve got a sniper and spotter in position and does he want them to take a shot if they have one.”

Gage translated and the man said something else, brows lowered in a disapproving frown. Gage made a frustrated sound before turning back to Hunter. “Goddamn ROEs,” he muttered. “He says not unless we’re under direct attack.” As he spoke more sporadic firing broke out behind them.

The guy seriously wanted to argue about rules of engagement when the lives of twenty two children were at stake? What was this, Article 17 peace keeping? “I guess those are just friendly warning shots then?” he said angrily, leveling a glare at the officer.

“Must be,” Gage muttered. He tried again, saying something else to the man but was met with an emphatic shake of the head that was recognizable in any language.

Hunter didn’t look away from the man’s gaze, not about to be told what to do by this little shit who may or may not be an ally in this fight. “Tell him I will order my men to engage the enemy if I see fit.”

Gage translated while Hunter kept up with the staring contest.
Yeah, chew on that, asshole.

Apparently tired of the negotiations, the officer waved them away impatiently and began issuing orders to his men. “Guess we’re done here,” Gage said with a smile in his voice.

“‘Bout fucking time.” Walking away, Hunter got on the squad radio and informed everyone of the new rules of engagement, stressing that they should return fire if they felt it necessary to defend themselves. “We clear?” They all checked in with an affirmative. “Ellis, Dunphy, stay where you are. Everybody else fall back into defensive perimeter around the school.”

He could hear the Pak soldiers talking on the radio behind them, no doubt calling for reinforcements. Just as well, since they only had a few hours of daylight left until the sun sank behind the mountains. Hunter doubted the Taliban would stay and fight through the darkness but he couldn’t rule out the possibility.

“Looks like they’re planning to make things interesting over there,” Dunphy said. “Both groups are converging in the center now. Might be getting ready to attack.”

So much for hoping the added military muscle would scare them away. Or maybe they assumed the army would help them fight against him and the rest of the American infidels desecrating the valley with their presence. “Get into position,” Hunter ordered everyone.

There was no adequate cover now except the school itself and they made good use of it. The entire group took up positions around the building, facing out toward the enemy coming at them from two sides.

“Dunphy, what are we up against?” Hunter prompted.

“AKs and a few RPGs.”

Great, RPGs.
“Any new players?”

“Negative. Still fourteen. Gonna lose sight of them in a minute when they move behind that butte.”

“Copy that.” He raised his binos to check on the Pak soldiers, only to find they were still by their truck, apparently not moving until reinforcements arrived. Meaning, ROEs or not, Hunter and his men were on their own for the time being.

Tense minutes ticked past as the enemy approached, unseen behind the screen of hills. Hunter and the others remained in position, keeping watch on the far hills. Then it came. An eerie wail, increasing in volume and strength, one Hunter had heard many times before.

Bring it, you bastards.

“Three groups now,” Dunphy reported. “Coming at you from three different directions. Ellis and I have a clear shot on the group at the far right.”

“Copy that,” he answered. “Fire at will.”

“Roger.”

Lying flat on his belly next to the east wall of the school, Hunter raised his rifle and took aim in the direction of the coming attack. His heart rate slowed as it always did in a firefight, his body calm and his finger on the trigger of his M4. The fighters in the center group suddenly burst out of a gap at the valley’s mouth, closely followed by the one on the left, then the right. “Hold your positions,” Hunter ordered. “No one gets past us.” They all knew what was at stake if they didn’t hold their ground. Dozens of innocent lives depended on them repelling the attack. Including Khalia’s.

As an image of her face formed in his mind, he forced it away and sighted down the barrel of his weapon.

The enemy bore down on them in a suicidal rush, yelling their war cry. They began shooting in that weird haphazard way they had, from the hip, spraying rounds all over the place in the hopes of hitting something. A few rounds plowed into the cinderblock wall at the front of the school, sending up tiny sprays of white. He stayed off the radio, letting his men do their jobs. They’d gone over this plan before and each man knew what to do.

His finger tightened on the trigger. Another ounce of pressure was all he needed to fire. His gaze locked on the man at the front of the center column. He was running flat out toward the school, mouth wide open in his bearded face as he hollered, his AK spewing rounds. Some of the shots thudded into the ground yards ahead of where Hunter lay.

He held his fire, waiting for the enemy to come into the kill zone.
Five seconds. Four. Three. Two. One.

He squeezed the trigger, firing two shots that hit the man’s chest. The Taliban fighter dropped his weapon and crumpled, unmoving. Hunter’s men began to engage the enemy in their designated sectors, methodically picking the attackers off when they came into range. The air was filled with the rattle and echo of gunfire. Hunter took aim at the next fighter but someone beat him to it, hitting him in the torso and sending him tumbling to the grass.

A new burst of gunfire suddenly broke out on their far left. The Paks, finally getting into the fight. Hunter stayed flat on his belly and waited for the remaining targets to come close enough.

“Three tangos down here,” Dunphy reported, confirming Ellis had already taken out three of his own targets. “Looks like reinforcements are coming down that trail. Four so far.”

“Team leader copies,” Hunter replied, readying to fire his weapon at the next enemy. Bullets slapped into the cinderblock beside him, showering him with dust. His vision zeroed in on the closest man’s chest, sighting down the length of the rifle barrel.

“RPG, incoming!”

At Dunphy’s warning, Hunter and Gage simultaneously flattened against the ground and covered their heads a second before the round whistled over them and hit the north wall of the school with a loud bang. The ensuing explosion blew apart the cinderblock and shook the ground. Hunter grunted as the blast wave rolled through his body and chunks of debris rained down around him.

“Tango down. Someone else is trying to load the tube again.”

“Take him out,” Hunter ordered, crawling on his elbows to get a better vantage point. The surviving enemy were still coming at them, running headlong through the hail of return gunfire. He saw three more drop. One crawled away clutching at a wound in his belly.

“He’s down,” Dunphy reported a moment later, “and so’s the RPG. Ellis did it with one round.”

One shot, one kill.
This was why Scout/Snipers
rocked
. “Nice.” Hunter fired again, hitting another enemy fighter high up in the shoulder. His AK flew up into the air as he fell and crawled back toward his line.

More Taliban fighters fell, cut down by the lethal fire delivered by his men. One more man in the lead of his group toppled face first into the grass and suddenly everything got quiet. The eerie yells died away into silence and no more shots rang out. The survivors turned and ran for their lives, dragging the wounded with them.

Hunter counteracted the adrenaline rush flooding his system with a few slow, deep breaths, bracing for a possible counterattack. “Dunphy, report.”

“The three reinforcements are retreating and there’re only six unwounded shooters left. We don’t see any others hidden in the hills.”

“Copy that. Update me if anything changes.” Having Ellis take more of them out when they seemed to be retreating went directly against the ROEs, and with the Pak army here as witnesses it would cause a serious shit storm. Even though Hunter knew those TTP bastards would likely be back another day when the school wasn’t as heavily defended, that wasn’t his concern now.

All he cared about right now was getting enough room and time to get to Khalia and the students.