The Secret Soldier

She looked over his shoulder as he carried her through the door of the small, six-by-six concrete cell that had been her home for so long. A crippling wave of remorse consumed her. She was leaving without Samuel. His wife. What would it do to her when she found out about her husband? Sabine squeezed her eyes shut to a grief that would stay with her always.

Outside the door the tall man joined two other men dressed like him. Aiming their weapons, the other men flanked the tall man as he carried her into the street. Two bodies were sprawled on the ground near the door of the concrete cell. She hoped one of them was Asad.

“Find anything?” the tall man asked.

“Negative.”

“Detonate when we reach the Mi-8.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

The two other men swung their weapons on either side of the tall man as they moved across the street.

Shouts erupted behind them. The tall man ran faster while his partners turned and jogged backward, aiming their weapons and firing. Over the tall man’s shoulder, she saw three figures drop in the distance, lifeless shadows in the night.

The tall man slowed his pace as he carried her through an alley. One of his partners moved ahead and the other fell back. They emerged onto another street. Bombed-out buildings and burned shells of vehicles echoed a violent tale of the past.

The woof, woof of a helicopter sounded in the distance. The bombed-out buildings thinned as they came to the outskirts of the deserted village where her captors had taken her and Samuel. Sabine could make out the dark shape of a helicopter just ahead of them.

One of the tall man’s partners jumped into the helicopter. The tall man handed her over to him. He swooped her through a narrow door and inside the pod, and she found herself lowered onto a toboggan-like stretcher. The interior of the helicopter had no seats, but the exposed metal walls contained small round windows. It was dim inside.

Sabine kept her gaze fixed on the tall man. He stood to one side of the opening as the helicopter lifted into the air. One of his partners knelt beside him. Both aimed their guns at the ground. The man kneeling depressed a remote of some sort. What she could see of the night sky lit up, and the sound of a giant explosion followed. Something pricked her arm.

Sabine looked up at the man kneeling beside her. In the light of the fire, she could see his brown hair and blue eyes. He smiled at her while he inserted the IV.

“You’re goin’ to be okay now,” he said with a rich Southern drawl.

God bless America, she thought.

Gunshots made her grip the sides of the stretcher. Bullets sprayed the helicopter, and it dipped. It felt like something vital had been hit. Some of her captors must have survived and discovered her escape.

The man who’d inserted her IV scrambled to the cockpit.

“We’re in big trouble if this thing goes down!” the pilot shouted, barely audible over the noise of the rotor.

The helicopter swayed and rattled amidst rounds of machine-gun fire.

“I can’t go back there.” Sabine struggled to raise her body. She crawled on her hands and knees toward the open door of the helicopter, heedless of the IV that ripped free of her arm and the sting of her raw shins, where her captors had beaten her the most. She searched for a weapon and spotted the pistol in the tall man’s holster. When she reached for it, he put his hand around her wrist and stopped her.

“They’re out of range now,” he told her, one knee on the floor. “And you’re not going back there.”

Realizing the sound of gunfire had ceased, Sabine sagged at his words, falling flat onto her stomach with her forehead to the metal floor of the helicopter. Sobs came unbidden. They shook her shoulders and made her gasp for air. Relief. Gratitude. A cacophony of emotion too strong to subdue.

The tall man put his automatic rifle aside. She heard it settle on the floor of the helicopter. Sitting down, he reached for her. She let him pull her onto his lap, the promise of kindness from another human being too great to resist. Air from the opening at her back blew through her hair. She dug her fingers into the sturdy material of the tall man’s body armor, resting her head on his shoulder until her tears quieted.

With a shuddering breath, Sabine inhaled the oily smell of the helicopter, the smell of freedom. Comfort she hadn’t felt in weeks washed through her deprived soul. She wanted to stay close to the man who held her so warmly, his hand slowly moving over her back. He cradled her thighs with one arm, his hand pressed over her hip to hold her on his lap.

Sabine leaned back. Gray eyes fringed by thick, dark lashes looked down at her beneath the edge of his black helmet. He’d moved the night-vision device out of the way. There was sympathy in his eyes but something else, a hovering alertness, a readiness for combat. Her awareness of him grew. Those gray eyes.

His black hair sprouted from beneath the helmet, and she noticed for the first time that it hung low on the back of his neck. A few strands tickled the top of her hand. Lines bracketed each side of his mouth, his lips soft and full but unmoving. His jaw was broad and strong and covered with stubble.

“What’s your name?” she asked, wanting to think of him as something other than a tall man.

“You can call me Rudy,” he answered after a slight hesitation.

The sound of more gunfire made Sabine look through the door into the night sky. She spotted another helicopter firing at them. Rudy tossed her off his lap at the same instant bullets struck metal. She landed on her rear in a pile of gear and packs in the back of the helicopter. Rudy grabbed his weapon and fired alongside one of his teammates.

“What the—” the man beside Rudy was cut short when a bullet put a hole in his forehead. He fell forward, out of the helicopter. It happened quickly, but Sabine knew violence like this all too well. The helpless sorrow swimming through her was familiar, something that had clung to her through her captivity.

Rudy fired his weapon again. Explosions of answering gunfire throttled along with the roar of rotor and blades. Bullets struck the helicopter’s interior, plugging holes in the stretcher where Sabine had lain. She covered her head and buried herself among the gear as much as she could, moaning. Exhaustion did nothing to dull the sickening fear that had been her constant companion for so long.

Then the flurry of gunfire died. Sabine lifted her head. Rudy crouched, ready for battle.

“Who the hell was that?” the Southern man asked from his seat in the cockpit.

The helicopter sputtered and lost elevation with a severe plunge.

The pilot cursed.

“What’s our position?” Rudy demanded.

The pilot shouted back coordinates.

“Can you make it to the airstrip?”

“Maybe.” The helicopter sputtered more. The pilot shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Sabine looked at Rudy. He glanced her way, and she saw his confusion. He hadn’t expected to be attacked after lifting off the ground. The gunfire from the ground had been from what was left of her captors, but who had fired at them from the other helicopter?

“We’re going down, we’re going down!” the pilot yelled.

“No,” Sabine breathed.

Rudy pushed away from the opening. Tossing his weapon aside, he landed on Sabine with the agility of a cat as the helicopter began to smoke and spin.

Chapter 2

Sabine screamed as the helicopter careened toward the ground. She could feel the pilot trying to keep the machine airborne. The roar was deafening. Debris flew through the pod. If it weren’t for Rudy holding her, she’d have gone flying, too. But even he couldn’t withstand the force of the crash. When they hit, she felt the jarring impact and knew her body had smashed against something hard, but she blacked out an instant later.

She regained consciousness to the smell of smoke and stillness. Flickers of fire alarmed her. She didn’t know how long she’d been out. She didn’t think it was longer than seconds or minutes.

Someone stirred beside her. She looked to see Rudy climb to his feet. He scanned the rest of the helicopter. The cockpit was barely visible through darkness and smoke and the tangle of metal.

“Comet!” Rudy shouted. “Blitz!”

There was no answer.

Sabine ignored the searing pain that sliced through her already bruised body and rose to her hands and knees. Rudy hefted a rucksack over his shoulder and stepped over scattered debris on his way to her. She grabbed his arm and used it as a tether to pull herself up. Instead of helping her walk out of the helicopter, Rudy bent and draped her over his big shoulder like a sack of dog food. She withheld groans of agony the pressure against her ribs caused.

Rudy hurried out of the helicopter. When he was far enough away, he lowered her to the ground. She sat on her rear—more like collapsed—and watched him drop the rucksack and jog back toward the helicopter for the other two.

An explosion flipped him onto his back. Sabine cringed and twisted away from the violent flames and rumbling blast. She rolled onto her side and covered her head as debris dropped from the air. A brief moment later, she pushed herself up by one hand and gaped at the inferno. Were the men still in there? They were, but she couldn’t bring herself to face it. She crawled toward the helicopter, half sobbing, too numb to process everything all at once. She only knew she couldn’t leave the men in that helicopter after they just saved her life.

She got as far as Rudy, who swung his arm out like an iron bar and stopped her. His face was stark with shock and maybe a few signs of grief. She didn’t know him enough to read his emotions, but losing what must be his team had to be shattering.

Slowly, he turned his head. His eyes went from disbelieving to expressionless to angry before he eventually covered that, too. Gripping her arm just above her elbow, he hauled her to her feet, swinging the rucksack over his other shoulder. “We have to get out of here.”

Sabine strained to see the burning helicopter. “Are we going to—”

“They’re dead,” he cut her off.

Tears pushed into her eyes. “Oh—my God … I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t respond, just pulled her along. With a will of iron that had seen her through two weeks of unimaginable suffering, she forced her tears away. She stumbled and fell against Rudy, nearly falling. Her legs wouldn’t support her very much longer. She was amazed she could walk at all.

Rudy muttered a curse and hefted her over his shoulder again. She bit her lip against the stab of pain in her ribs. The glowing orb of the helicopter disappeared from view as Rudy walked. His strides grew monotonous. She had no concept of passing time.

When Rudy finally eased her from his shoulder, she groaned as she lay on the ground. Her entire body throbbed. She tried not to vent her discomfort with audible sounds. Rudy had enough to worry about. And she wanted him to get her out of there.

She saw him dig into his rucksack and pull out a handheld radio. He lifted it to his mouth and depressed a button with his thumb.

“Dasher, this is Rudy. Do you read?”

The names he’d called his teammates penetrated her awareness. Comet. Blitz. Was that short for Blitzen? Now Dasher. Was Rudy short for Rudolf? Was that his code name?

“Dasher, come in.” There was a short crackling noise followed by nothing.

Rudy wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

The radio crackled. “Rudy, this is Dasher. I read you. What happened? Over.” The radio crackled again.

“I’m going to set a flare. You have to get here before anyone else finds us. Over.”

“I don’t see any movement near the crash sight. I’ll find you. Over.”

“Hurry.” Rudy tossed the radio into the rucksack and dug for something else. He stood when he found the flare and moved away from Sabine a few steps. He was efficient and fast with his hands as he lit the flare and sent it into the night sky.

Sabine watched the flare illuminate the landscape. She could see nothing that suggested anyone was after them, but she rubbed her arms anyway, afraid of the possibility, so afraid. She would not survive if she had to face more torture. Not after tasting freedom again.

Her gaze shifted to Rudy. He stood with his feet slightly parted, searching the landscape. Only then did she notice he held a pistol at his side.

The sound of a helicopter broke the silence. Rudy tipped his head back and closed his eyes. She felt his relief, and it sparked hope along with a fresh threat of tears. Were they really going to make it?

The helicopter neared. Soon it tossed up dirt as it landed and Rudy helped her to her feet, carrying the rucksack in his other hand. She leaned against him as they made their way to the helicopter, Rudy bearing most of her weight. He boosted her inside and she crawled into the pod. Leaning against the far side, she watched Rudy climb in as the helicopter lifted into the air.

He lay on his back and draped his arm over his forehead, his massive chest rising and falling from more than exertion. Sabine knew he was thinking of his men. Remorse overwhelmed her. It was so unfair.

She folded her arm over her ribs, wishing the pain would ease. She closed her eyes to ride it through. Hearing movement, she opened her eyes and saw Rudy rolling to his hands and knees. He stood and crossed the small space of the helicopter.

Crouching before her, he asked, “How badly are you hurt?”

He must have noticed her holding her ribs. “I’ll be all right.” As long as she was away from those terrible men, she was fine.

Rudy pulled her arm away from her body. “Is anything broken?”

“I don’t think so.” She had her big-boned grandfather on her mother’s side to thank for that. She’d never met her grandparents on her father’s side. “Except maybe my ribs.” Her injuries would fade. It was what she’d witnessed that would haunt her the rest of her life. The memory of Samuel.

She winced when he tested her ribs with his hands, unable to suppress a moan.

The furrow between his eyebrows deepened, and he pulled her T-shirt up to her breasts in a purely clinical maneuver. Only the tightening of his mouth revealed anything of his reaction to the expanse of bruises on her torso.

“Did your captors want anything specific?” he asked. “Did you hear any of them talk?”

“We never were told why we were being held,” she breathed through the sharp throbs in her ribs.

Dropping her shirt, Rudy stood and moved away.

She watched him reach into the rucksack and pull out a canteen. Wordlessly, he handed it to her along with two pills. She studied him as she took the pills and popped them into her mouth. Next, she took the canteen and lifted it to her mouth with an unsteady hand. He seemed to notice and crouched in front of her again. His hand covered hers as he helped her hold the canteen. She met his eyes while she drank, the striking gray of them momentarily capturing her. He didn’t have his helmet on anymore, and she realized she didn’t remember when he’d removed it. He had thick, dark hair. Something about it struck her as odd. Didn’t military men have close-cropped hair?

She wiped her mouth after she finished drinking, and he took the canteen from her.

“Who would want to keep you from leaving this place?” he asked.

The question gave her a jolt. Did he wonder if it could be someone other than her kidnappers? “I don’t know.”

“Someone must have. And it wasn’t your captors.”

She took a moment to absorb that. If not her captors, who would want her to die like that? Had they known she and Samuel were being held? And done nothing? Everything inside her rebelled against the idea. It was too awful.

“That helicopter wasn’t in any of the images I saw,” Rudy continued, his mouth a tight line of anger. “They knew we were coming.” And that missing piece of information had cost him three good men.

Who would go to such lengths to see her and Samuel dead? She didn’t have any enemies like that. Her father, but he had no reason to want her brutally killed. And if anyone had the means to orchestrate her rescue, it was he. She glanced at Rudy’s longish hair.

“Who sent you here?” she asked more briskly than she intended. “Who are you?”

His anger disappeared behind a guarded mask. He unfolded his legs to stand. “I’m bringing you home. That’s all you need to know.”

“Was it my father?” she asked anyway.

“No.” He turned away and went toward the cockpit of the helicopter, ending any further questioning.

Dust billowed into the air and the whine of engines drowned any other sound. Sabine hooked her arm over Rudy’s shoulder as he carried her to a waiting plane. The airstrip was crude and deserted. The plane was painted white with a horizontal blue stripe and no other markings. Rudy climbed some steps and took her inside. There were no seats and darkness filled the row of windows. He put her down and she sat on the floor, leaning against another metal-sided wall.

Rudy turned to speak to Dasher, who was apparently an accomplished pilot, since not only had he flown the helicopter, but also he was going to fly this plane out of Afghanistan. For the first time in two weeks, she felt her shoulders sag in relief. Soon she’d be home.

Home. That seemed like a foreign place to her now, where everything was normal. She felt anything but normal. She didn’t know the woman who’d survived what she had. How was she going to move on as though none of this had ever happened?

Samuel would never go home. He’d never see his wife again. The last conversation she’d had with him would stay with her always.

In the darkness of their cell, they’d talked well into the night. Sleep had been patchy and filled with nightmarish dreams. Like every other night.

Sabine had learned a lot about Samuel in the weeks they’d been held captive. He was steady and family oriented. He loved his wife to the depths of his soul and hated the time he had to be away from her; he wanted to build a house for her and the kids they’d planned to have. It was the reason he’d taken the contracting job.

Dasher headed for the cockpit. Once again, she was alone with the man who’d rescued her.

Rudy closed the door and the whine of the plane’s engines increased. He sat at her feet on the floor, leaning against the adjacent wall that divided this compartment from the rear of the plane. With his eyes half closed and his hands resting comfortably in his lap, he had an outward appearance of calm. Hovering alertness. Physical strength at rest but ready to move. And clever gray eyes. He was a dangerous man.

Her father wouldn’t have sent any other kind.

Sabine didn’t want to believe her father had sent Rudy. She didn’t want to owe a man like Noah Page for something as precious as her life, especially after almost losing it because of him. All those years she’d wasted striving to prove she was worthy of his respect had gotten her nowhere. It made her sick to think she’d allowed him to influence her like that, to know that, at least on a subliminal level, she wanted his recognition.

She closed her eyes. No. Her father hadn’t sent Rudy. This was a military operation. It had to be. Rudy didn’t want to reveal his identity because of the nature of his covert operations and the press her rescue would shake up once word got out that she was on her way home.

Exhaustion overpowered her worry, and she lay on the floor. She woke briefly when they landed for a fuel stop, then again when she felt the plane begin its descent for another. Moments later the tires touched the ground.

The plane slowed until it stopped. Like the last time they’d refueled, the pilot left the plane while Rudy watched from the doorway.

“Where are we?” Sabine asked.

“An airstrip in Egypt,” he said without looking at her.

Then his body went rigid as he peered through the door. Sabine pushed herself up to sit.

He looked at her over his shoulder. “Wait here.” Then he leaped from the plane.

Sabine crawled to her feet. The crack of gunfire sent her heart skipping faster. Someone was shooting at them again. Who? More gunshots exploded.

She stumbled toward the doorway, searching the plane for a weapon on her way. Seeing Rudy’s pistol sticking out of his pack, she slipped it free and leaned against the wall of the plane next to the door, breathing hard from exertion and fear. Peering outside, she spotted Rudy running back toward the plane, a man chasing him with a gun. In the distance, she could see a body lying on the dirt runway.

Forcing her fear down, Sabine lifted the pistol, aimed and fired. The man chasing Rudy dove for the ground, dirt spitting near his feet. Another man appeared in her view and fired at Rudy. She covered him as best she could, until he leaped into the plane, bumping her shoulder on his way. She stumbled as he slammed the door shut, then pounded it once with his fist.

Bullets hit the door. Sabine jumped back at the loud sound.

He turned and she saw the anger in his eyes before he hurried to the cockpit, his strides long and his feet thudding hard on the metal floor.

She followed, jumping again as bullets hit the plane once more. “Where’s Dasher?”

“Dead.” Rudy sat in the pilot’s seat and worked controls, his face tight with fiery emotion. “They were waiting for us.”

Again. How could it have happened again? Who didn’t want her to escape her captors?

Sabine clumsily fell into the copilot’s seat and fastened the shoulder harness. Darkness stared back at her through the window of the cockpit. The plane rolled down the dirt runway, picking up speed. The sound of bullets hitting metal faded. The plane lifted off the ground.

“Who keeps coming after us?” Who had fired at them in the helicopter, and who was firing at them now?

Rudy didn’t answer, his face intense and focused on flying the plane. She let him for a while.

Looking out the window to her side, she saw only darkness. “Where are we going?”

“We have to get to Athens.”

She turned her head toward him. “Do we have enough fuel?”

“Probably not,” he said, still looking straight ahead and at the controls.

“But … don’t we have to fly over the Mediterranean to get to Athens?”

“Yes. And we have to fly low.”

Staring through the dark front window, she took several calming breaths. “We’re going to die.”

Rudy turned his head toward her, his eyes fierce with determination. “Not if I can help it.”

As much as she’d have loved to fall into the warmth his energy stirred, Sabine gripped the armrests of her seat and remained tense.

He must have noticed because he said, “There are lots of islands off the coast of Greece. We’ll find one and land there if we have to.”

Did he actually think they’d find a lovely Greek island and have a nice little landing as if they’d planned it all along? She sat with tight, aching muscles for long, unbearable minutes. Each second felt like her last. At any moment the plane would roar down to the water and it would be over.

“We’re getting close,” Rudy said at last.

“Really?” She couldn’t let herself believe it.

The plane gave her a jolt. The engines cut then roared to life. Cut. Roared.

Her heart thudded sickly in her chest. A lump of fear lodged in her throat.

They were running out of fuel!

“I think I see something,” Rudy said.

Sabine strained to see through the night but saw nothing. Was he hallucinating in the face of death? The plane lost elevation as it sputtered along. She gripped the armrests tighter. They were going down. She didn’t think she was lucky enough to survive two crashes in one day.

“Do you see it?” Rudy asked. He sounded excited.

She turned to look at him. How could he be enjoying this? He glanced at her and smiled, then jerked his head toward the front of the plane.