Trinity: Military War Dog (48 page)

“Yeah.” Dawg, that felt good to hear the way she said his name. “Let’s get you out of here.” He tried crossing her arms again, then bent to scoop her into his arms. As he pushed to his feet, she hooked an arm around his neck and burrowed into his vest with a shudder.

Something strong and powerful tugged at his heart with that simple gesture. A shudder … it wasn’t like she’d vowed her undying love. Although he’d take that, too. But the shudder told him she trusted him, she felt safe with him.

“Hey, RockGirl, you okay?” Why did he feel shy all of a sudden? No, he’d never been shy. Confident, arrogant—yeah. But shy? He peered down at her, and though she didn’t look up at him, she nodded.

“Yeah …” Her grip around his neck tightened as she pulled deeper into his hold. “Now.”

Hesitation strangled him and held fast. His lightning-fast mind attached a bevy of meaning to that simple statement. Expectation like he’d never experienced before hung in her words.
Oh, Lord, help …

“You’re going to be fine. I’ve got you.” Heath firmed his hold, careful of the delicate package in his arms, mindful of the yanking of his heartstrings. Aware he was willing to move heaven and earth to get Jia home safe and alive!

Against his right hand, he felt the vibration of sound through her back and glanced down at her again. Her lips were moving, slowly.

“up … ted … grace … enfolded … peace of His embrace.”

Ice and fire competed for dominance in his stomach. No, he couldn’t have heard that right. But her whispered words unleashed an angel from his past. An angel everyone said didn’t exist, that he’d been dreaming. An angel who voiced a prayer that clung to his soul while he lay in a coma at Landstuhl, hovering on the brink of death.

That angel … did she lay in his arms now? He watched her lips moving, stunned.
“Finally, I pray you’d be uplifted by His grace, and feel yourself enfolded in the peace of His embrace.”

“Ghost.”

Heath jerked to the entry point.

Candyman shot a look over his shoulder. “Ready?”

Mind singed with the memory, Heath braced her against his uplifted right leg to get a better hold, then nodded. “Go.”

“Right, left, left.” After the instructions, Candyman peered out the door. Nodded. “Move!”

The door swung open, and Heath rushed into the morning. The steady cadence of his boots crushing the snow beat in rhythm with Candyman’s and the soft padding of Trinity at his side. They made the first right without a hitch.

Sidling up against the hut, they came to a juncture. As Candyman took point, his weapon stabbing into the open, Heath again hoisted Jia up farther. In view, Candyman gave a sharp nod.

Heath hustled into the path between the huts and rushed forward, trusting Candyman who moved two paces ahead to guide him to safety. Trinity trotted in between them. This didn’t seem right. Hadn’t they come—?

“Back!” Candyman snapped and threw himself at Heath.

Feet tangling with Candyman’s, Heath tripped. Instinct tightened his grip on Jia, but he went down on a knee. Crushing her to himself, Heath prayed he didn’t drop her.

“Augh!” She arched her back and pulled away.

Heath tugged her closer as he caught his balance. “Sorry.”

“Quiet,” Candyman hissed. “Base, we need an out.”

Leaning against the mud-and-thatch hut, Heath ignored the burn in his arms and legs. Didn’t know what he was thinking trying to carry her like this. Fireman carry—only way to make this journey. He shifted. “Jia.” She groaned and lifted her head. “Gotta change carry.” Her head bobbed in understanding.

Heath set her down, then hesitated, thinking about the injury in her side before he shifted to the other side, hooked an arm under her leg, tucked his head, and let her slump over his shoulder. A steeled grunt pushed warm air along his neck and cheek as he supported her across his shoulders. Heath had a perfect line of sight through the huts. All the way to the main hub. Two men emerged from a hut. One older and vaguely familiar. The other Zheng Jianyu.

Heath pushed up and backed into the shadows, praying like he’d never prayed before that they hadn’t been seen.

A minute later, Candyman swung around, patted Heath, then pointed a few huts down. “This way.”

As he scurried behind Candyman, Heath realized his coms link had come out. Bracing Jia wouldn’t afford him a free hand to replace it, so he’d have to trust—

Fingers tickled his ear. He shrugged off the tickle.

“Keep still,” came the quiet command—from Jia.

The coms link tucked back into his ear, he eyed her face, so close to his … and sideways. He gave a nod and kept moving. Shouts erupted behind them and served as motivation to move faster. They cleared the line of huts and broke into the open. Heath trained his focus on the rocky incline. Remembered slipping and sliding down it.
This will be interesting
.

“Ghost, Candyman, you’ve got tails.”

Okay, make that very interesting
.

Halfway up the hill, rocks and dirt peppered his face.

“Taking fire,” Candyman called.

Heath stuffed himself behind a rocky cleft and peered up. Huffing, he knelt and looked at Jia. “Doing okay?”

“Sure.”

He panted through a quick laugh. “Good.” Eying their route, he felt desperation clogging his veins. At least another fifty, sixty feet up to the ridgeline—but they’d still be prime targets. Then another mile or more to the team.

The verse in Proverbs about God making paths straight teased Heath. He smirked, imagining the great hand of God smoothing a path directly to safety. Then again …
You are the God who says all things are possible to him who believes, right?

Trinity barked to the right.

Heath checked … and froze as she darted out of view. Tucked behind a stack of boulders, a path led up the side of the mountain. Smooth. Straight. Protected. “No way.” He readjusted, looked to Candyman, who already pushed up from his spot and started toward Trinity.

“Hold on,” Heath muttered to Jia.

“Ya think?”

He smiled and broke into a sprint.

Gunfire peppered the ground.

Fire lit through his leg.

Jia sucked in a sudden breath.

The ground rushed up at him.

        Thirty-Five          

C
over them!” Watterboy’s shout sailed through the air.

Peering through the binoculars but unarmed—at least, they believed he wasn’t armed—Haur trailed the trio as they hoofed it back up the mountain, mind stricken with what he’d seen and heard. M4s provided suppressive cover.

He let the extended reach of the lens trace the village. Jianyu’s elite were there in force. Russians … not so much. Odd. If the purpose of Jianyu’s presence here was to align with the Russians in order to attack the Americans, wouldn’t there be more?

Maybe they were holed up on the other side of the ridge.

Or maybe there was something different, something more sinister going on here.

Haur double-checked on the threesome and the dog. Making good progress. A tiny explosion of blood on Ghost’s leg told of a shot. The man hobbled but made it into the passage.

He’d be fine. So would the dog. And the woman. The spy who’d outsmarted his brother and escaped him twice. Haur would like the chance to talk with her, determine her motives, determine if the love she lavished on his brother was real. Or was in fact a tactic to unseat Jianyu. No one had mastered his brother, the master of all.

Except the woman spy. Meixiang. But that’s not what the others had called her. Jia, wasn’t it? Thoughts rolled around his mind, laden with curiosity and venom, a hunger to know the power she’d exerted over Jianyu.

He’d tried to exert power, to influence the brother whose thirst for power had darkened his outlook. Oh, how Haur had tried. For more than twenty years. And here he was on an icy mountain, staring at the scene before him, distanced. Cold. Left out.

Again.

Haur studied the village, tried to mesh his thinking with Jianyu’s. They’d been close, studied together, planned together, passed exams, and soared through the ranks like twins. But there had always been a particular twist to Jianyu’s thinking. The awareness of that element in his “brother” had kept Haur alive.

So, brother, what are you doing here? What madness is behind this mission?

The binoculars hit on movement near the center of the small village. Men ran in all directions. A door spun through the air. Haur trained in on that structure.

A man stepped into the open. His face a mask of indignation and rage.

Giddy warmth slithered through Haur so heated he feared the snow around him would betray his guilty pleasure.

“What do you see?” Bai asked in a low voice. “Do you see Jianyu?”

Haur ignored him, glad he’d kept the smile from his face. “No.” The lie was necessary. Especially with suspicions abounding. Especially with loyalties shifting.

“They’re clear, but let’s keep them safe,” Watterboy announced. “Spook, you ready to haul butt out of here?”

“We’re ready.”

Haur kept his focus on his enraged brother. Who kicked a truck. Punched a private. Knocked a boiling pot from its stand in a fire. Men around it shot up, tumbling backward, away from the spewing maw of the pot and their colonel.

So. Jianyu had discovered the American spy had been recovered. Taken right from his hands. Right out from under his nose. The same operative who’d toppled the Zheng empire.

He should not be so pleased. It was not good to revel in the misfortune of others. His mother had taught him that. But Haur could not help but think even his mother was smiling on this day. Or … perhaps not yet. Perhaps soon though.

“Haur,” Bai said hoarsely.

“They’re almost out,” he muttered, hoping Bai would beg off and leave him so he could figure out what Jianyu would do now. He wanted to witness this.

“Pack it up, people. Let’s move!”

As Haur was about to pull up, a second man emerged from the hut. Heat splashed down the back of his neck, filling him with dread. He knew that shape. Or did he?

No, it couldn’t be …

Same height but twice the girth. He placed a hand on Jianyu’s shoulder, bringing him around. His brother shoved off the hand, arms flailing as he raged at the man. Yet the other man clamped the hand back on his shoulder, brought him back in line.