now it looked like he never would.
He heard a crashing sound behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Kendra dragging out one of the dead marines. When he moved to help her, she waved him off.
“I’ve got him,” she said. “Go get the other guy.”
Declan nodded and ducked inside. The helicopter might not have caught fire, but it still didn’t seem right to leave them in there.
He’d just gotten the second marine positioned respectfully away from the downed bird when he heard more noise coming from the wreck. Kendra was tossing stuff out of the helicopter—weapons, ammo, a rucksack, extra canteens, what looked like ration bars, and a first-aid kit. Okay, it was official. She was a whole lot calmer in a stressful situation than he’d ever imagined she would be. If he wasn’t already hopelessly in love with her, he would be now.
A few moments later, she came stumbling out, coughing and hacking. Declan grabbed one of the canteens and held it out to her.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, taking a big gulp of water, then put the cap back on the canteen. “How far away did we get?”
“Not far enough,” he said. “We flew farther than I thought before the crash, maybe two miles. But I can already hear them coming. They’ll probably be able to hone right in on the smoke coming off the crash.”
“Then we need to get moving.”
As Kendra started gathering up the gear she’d tossed out of the smoldering wreck, Declan checked on the other survivors. The two locals were whispering to each other as he approached the injured DEA agent. He could hear them clearly, but they were speaking in Spanish, so it really didn’t matter that he could overhear everything they said. But while he didn’t understand the words, he got the gist of their tone—they were scared to death and wondering if staying with Declan and Kendra was their best bet.
He knelt down beside the DEA agent, preparing to carry him—at least until they had enough time to rig up some kind of travois or litter—but the man was already dead. Between all the blood he’d lost, shock, and head trauma, there was no way of telling what had done him in.
Declan pulled the DEA agent’s rain jacket off to cover his face. Hopefully the soldiers and hybrids wouldn’t disturb the man’s body or those of the dead marines. But it was anyone’s guess what hybrids considered an acceptable way to honor the dead.
“Where the hell are they going?” Kendra asked.
Declan spun around just in time to see the two police officers slip into a dense section of jungle and disappear.
“I guess they figure they have better odds on their own than staying here with a monster as bad as the things trying to kill them.”
Kendra swore and shouldered one of the packs loaded with extra supplies. “What about the pilot and copilot? Should we go look for them?”
He winced as he envisioned the violence that had ripped apart the front of the Seahawk. Neither of those men were still alive. “No. Come on, we need to be well away from this place before the hybrids show up.”
Declan shouldered the other pack and the M4, then took off at a steady trot he hoped Kendra would be able to hold for a while. He didn’t really have a plan, other than to keep both of them alive long enough to get out of the immediate area so he’d have a chance to come up with something better. Right now, that was about the best he could hope for. If the rest of his team were here, it would be different. But with just the two of them going up against what seemed like an impossible number of trained soldiers and hybrid killing machines, he wasn’t holding out much hope.
Chapter 3
Angelo Rios inhaled deeply, almost groaning in appreciation as the aroma from the grill wafted across the terrace. His former captain might not be in charge of their Special Forces A-Team anymore, but the man still knew how to take care of them. Landon and Ivy had literally emptied the freezer for him and fellow Special Forces operator Derek Mickens. And the weather today was perfect for grilling.
“So, why’s the army sending you guys to a place like Tajikistan?” Clayne asked. “Not exactly a name you see in the news a lot.”
Angelo grabbed another handful of tortilla chips and sat back in his chair. He’d asked his first sergeant the