to one another. One of them grabbed Tess with his free arm and hustled her back to safety, behind a Cobra light armored vehicle, positioning himself to shield her. The others ducked behind the two Humvees that were also parked there, and waited.
More nerve-racking seconds followed, the engine’s growl rising and falling as the SUV snaked down the mountain—then it appeared. A dark shape, heading toward them.
The commandos hesitated, unsure about whether or not to fire—then the car’s headlights suddenly came on, high beams, full blast.
Blinding.
They tore their goggles off, but their retinas were already seared, and in the precious seconds it took for them to adjust, they were exposed. Bullets quickly tore into one of the commandos, sending him snapping sideways like he’d been whipped. More rounds punched into the Humvee the other soldier was using for cover, biting into its panels and punching through its canvas cover.
Tess huddled low and covered her ears as the commando protecting her kept leaning out and firing quick bursts from his MP5 machine gun. His rounds took out one of the SUV’s headlights and drilled into its front grille, but it kept on coming, turning now so it was headed at the Humvee. It clipped the front left side of the wide jeep and sent it arcing right, slamming into the second soldier and knocking him to the ground. Moving with uncanny speed and precision, Zahed slammed on the brakes, burst out of the SUV and around its back, and pumped two bullets into the downed commando.
A shriek of anguish accompanied each shot, followed by haunting groans of agony. Tess spun her gaze to her guardian, unsure of what to make of it at first, then she understood. The bomber hadn’t killed the commando. He was toying with his victim, killing him one piece at a time to goad any remaining opponents and unsettle them. What he didn’t know was there was only one man left.
One man, and Tess.
The moans went on for the better part of a minute, then died out. The clearing was quiet now, except for the clicking of the idle diesel engine. Tess looked to her guardian for guidance. He raised a finger to his mouth, then edged sideways for a peek. Tess swallowed hard and pressed back against the cool hull of the armored carrier. She glanced down and suddenly became very conscious of the high ground clearance of the vehicle, and edged closer to the commando, both of them now tucked in behind one of its big, donutlike tires. Her protector was looking out, his brow furrowed with concentration, a lone bead of sweat glistening in the faint light, inching slowly down the side of his face.
He looked as scared as she was—then a metallic snap cut through the silence, followed by the sound of something spinning across the air.
The commando’s eyes instantly went wide with recognition. He grabbed Tess and threw her to the ground, throwing his body on top of hers, pressing her down. Whatever flew over them landed in the loose gravel beyond the Cobra and bounced a couple of times with a metallic clinking noise before exploding. The soldier knew what pulling a clip out of a grenade sounded like, but it had been thrown too far to cause them damage. Then Tess saw booted feet rush up to them, felt the commando scramble off her, and heard the bullets slam into him and punch him down to the ground.
The bomber hadn’t wanted to kill them with the grenade. He only needed the distraction.
Tess looked up.
He was looming over her, his eyes darting down at her while scanning the surroundings for any remaining threats. Tess knew there weren’t any left.
He picked up the dead commando’s submachine gun and told her, “Get up.”
His voice was as she remembered it. Dry, monotone, devoid of any trace of emotion.
She pushed herself to her feet, her arms and legs trembling at the sight of the same man who’d kidnapped her in Jordan and stuffed her into the trunk of a car alongside a big wad of explosives. And now here she was, in the middle of nowhere, alone with him. At his mercy.
Again.
Hoping he wasn’t about to utter the last words she ever wanted to hear from him.
No such luck.
“Let’s go,” he told her.
She thought of running, thought of lashing out at him for everything she knew he’d done, but she knew it would be pointless. Instead, she let him lead her to the Discovery and watched helplessly as he pumped several rounds into the tires of the Humvees and the Cobra to ground them. She got into the passenger seat beside him, and said nothing as they pulled away from the kill zone and drove off into the Anatolian night.
Chapter 32
Just getting up onto his feet was a titanic effort. Reilly felt like a boxer who’d been knocked down one time too many and could do nothing else but hug the canvas and ride out the count. But he couldn’t stay down. Not while Tess was out there.
He managed to push himself upright. All around him, small fires were blazing, lighting up a macabre tableaux of suffering. The acrid stench of death shrouded the scorched earth near him. Keskin was still there, by his feet. The beefy commando wasn’t moving anymore.
Reilly fought to regain some kind of focus in his mind, to order his frazzled thoughts into some kind of coherent plan. He spotted Ertugrul around thirty yards from him. The legat was flat on his back and wasn’t moving either. Beyond him, Reilly could see a couple of commandos who seemed uninjured and were tending to the wounded. He started toward them, hoping they were in radio contact with their comrades down the hill, the ones who had stayed behind with Tess. Then he remembered his own comm set and instinctively brought his hand up to his ear. His wireless headset was gone, no doubt blown away by the blast. He felt his pockets, but his transmitter wasn’t there either. He paused and dropped his gaze to the ground, scanning the rough soil for it, but quickly decided that was pointless. He’d moved around since the first explosion, and there was little hope of spotting the transmitter in the darkness. He staggered across the clearing again, toward the commandos, and stopped when he got to Ertugrul. A large patch of blood had darkened the soil around the legat’s head, and it didn’t look like he was breathing. He was just staring out into nothing, without blinking. Reilly bent down beside him and put two fingers to his neck. Ertugrul’s carotid artery wasn’t throbbing. He was gone.
Reilly set his hand on the fallen agent’s shoulder and exhaled heavily. He glanced around through seething eyes, the frustration pinning him down. Then he saw it, shimmering in the flames, a few feet behind Ertugrul’s body: the legat’s earpiece. He got back on his feet and retrieved it, and held it up with trembling fingers that were caked with blood and mud. It seemed intact. He clipped it onto his ear, hoping it was still working, and with a hoarse, faint voice, muttered, “Hawk Command? Come in, Hawk Command.”
The controller’s voice thundered back. “Jesus Christ, what the hell happened out there? You okay?”
“I’m okay, but Ertugrul’s dead,” Reilly said. He was back with the legat now, rummaging through his pockets, looking for the dead man’s transmitter and feeling like a vulture. “Others too. It’s bad. Real bad. We’re going to need medevacs. You need to get them here now.”
“Copy that. Hang on,” the controller said. “I’m handing you over to my CO.”
“Wait,” Reilly interrupted. “The bird. Is it still here?”
“Affirmative. Pull back is in seven minutes.”
Reilly shut his eyes tight, blocking out the carnage around him, trying to keep his mind focused. “The target vehicle. Are you tracking it?”
“Affirmative. It traveled down the mountain just after the blast. What was that?”
Reilly knew the explosion would have registered as a big flash on the drone’s infrared sensors, but chose to ignore the question. “And then what? Where did it go?”
“It reached the detachment at the bottom of the hill and it looks like it crashed into one of the Humvees. One person got out of it. We’re assuming that’s your target, correct?”
Reilly’s insides tightened. “Then what?”
“We’re assuming an exchange of gunfire. There was some movement. We’re showing three friendlies
