Tanner swung his M4 over his back, then reached down for the lightweight machine gun in Chad’s hands. He instinctively checked the plastic ammo box mounted on the side of the gun, absently noting there was maybe half a pack of 5.56mm rounds left in it. A hundred rounds wasn’t a lot, but it was enough for what he needed to do.
He turned and ran toward the machine gun, ignoring the bullets kicking up the dirt around him. To his left, the other members of his platoon were pinned down outside the gate, unable to move any closer while the weapon was still functional.
Tanner paid no attention to the individual Taliban fighters, instead focusing on the gunner in the back of the pickup truck, firing short three- and four-round bursts from Chad’s M249. It was only a matter of time before he got hit by one of the bullets flying around him. He just had to take out the machine gunner before that happened.
Off to the side, a Taliban fighter aimed an RPG in his direction. Tanner could have swung his weapon around and engaged the shooter, made him duck even if he didn’t hit the man straight up. But if he did, there was a good chance he’d run out of ammo before disabling the machine gun in the truck, and he couldn’t risk it.
Ignoring the man about to kill him, Tanner locked on the machine gunner and squeezed the trigger of his weapon, popping off a long string of rounds right into the back end of the pickup truck. Unfortunately, he didn’t get a chance to see if they had any effect because just then, the world exploded around him.
Tanner flew through the air for what seemed like forever before slamming into the ground like a bag of bricks. He bounced and rolled a few times before tumbling down into a deep crater carved out by a previous explosion. He came to rest in the bottom of the pit, debris raining down on him as he lay there in a twisted heap, the stock of the M249 digging painfully into ribs that had to be broken as dirt landed on his face and chest, choking him and making it nearly impossible to breathe.
He had no idea how badly he was hurt, but as the world started to go dark, he realized it was pretty damn bad. He wasn’t going to make it. And he was completely cool with that. The 14.5mm machine gun had fallen silent, replaced by the pop of smaller weapons and the sounds of running footsteps. His team had done its job. The gate was clear, and the platoon was moving quickly into the compound.
Tanner realized he must have passed out, because the next thing he knew, the shooting had stopped and someone was leaning over him, brushing dirt off his face. He forced his eyes open, wondering briefly if he was going to find a Taliban fighter standing there, an AK-47 pointed at his chest, ready to finally end this.
But it wasn’t a Taliban soldier. It was Ryan. His friend was down on one knee, regarding him with eyes that were completely devoid of emotion.
“I thought you were dead,” Ryan said.
“I probably should be,” Tanner told him.
“Probably.”
Tanner considered pushing himself up into a sitting position but then changed his mind. Shit. He ached all over. “Chad and Vas didn’t make it. I’m pretty sure Danny’s gone, too.”
Ryan nodded. “Yeah. I saw their bodies a ways back while I was looking for you. My guys didn’t make it either. They all bought it during the last charge through the gate. It’s just you and me. We’re all that’s left of our squad.”
All twenty members of their combined fire teams dead. Tanner closed his eyes, letting the pain wash over him. Not the physical pain that came from broken bones and torn flesh, but the deeper ache in his chest that came from knowing he was alive while all his brothers were gone. The anguish grew deeper and darker with every breath he took, overwhelming him and leaving him to wonder how he could possibly survive another five seconds, much less make it through the rest of the night and beyond.
When he opened his eyes again, he assumed he’d see his pain mirrored in his friend’s gaze. But Ryan’s face was calm, almost detached, like he was sitting on the beach, watching the waves roll in and out. Tanner shouldn’t have been surprised. Ryan had always been able to compartmentalize shit like this better than he ever could.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Tanner pushed himself into a sitting position and looked around at the damage inside the compound formerly controlled by the Taliban. Bodies were everywhere. His platoon and the Afghanis fighting with them had done what they’d set out to do. But they had paid a price. Tanner wondered if the people responsible for doing the math would decide it had been worth it.
“What now?” he asked, not sure what else to say.
Ryan stared off into the distance. “We keep going.”
Tanner tried to imagine doing that but simply couldn’t see how it was going to be possible after what had happened.
Chapter 1
Wenatchee National Forest, Northwest of Chelan, Washington, Present Day
“Okay, maybe this wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had.”
Zarina Sokolov cursed as she stumbled over yet another tree root and tumbled to her knees in the rich, leafy soil along the dirt trail. At least she hoped she was still on the trail. It was darker out here than she’d ever dreamed possible, and the flashlight the man at the sporting goods store had sold her was a piece of crap.
She shone the dim beam around as she stood up, hoping to see something to convince her she was still following the 25 Mile Creek Trail. But after a few moments, she realized one patch of pine needle–covered dirt looked much the same as the next. She turned and
