“I got the shot and I’m going to… wait — damn journalist moved in my way.”
Cairo felt her breath grow deeper as her heart quickened. From her position on the ground behind the savaged Nissan she had the shot but there was no time to call it in. She spun around and rested her arms on the truck’s hood, bringing her gun into the aim in less than two seconds and squeezed the trigger.
Akmetov collapsed like a rag doll and the journalist staggered away, yelling hysterically for a few seconds.
And then they all saw it — what they thought had been a grenade was a dead man’s switch tightly held in Akmetov’s hand. Now, his dead fingers unfurled and released the switch, and the entire lower floor of the compound started to blow up. The explosions lit the night for miles as the place went up in smoke, room by room.
“The whole place is wired to blow!” Mack yelled.
Hud ran forward and grabbed the journalist, dragging him to safety.
“Jesus — the MSF doctor is still in there!” said Loretto.
“And our boy,” said Hart.
Cairo shook her head for a second, hardly able to see the main residence for all the fire and smoke. She could hardly believe her eyes as she watched a colossal fireball consume the entire entrance hall, and then something happened that made her stop breathing.
A man holding a woman in his arms burst out of the raging inferno and sprinted across the yard toward the safety of the Nissan.
He skidded to a halt and fell down into the dirt beside her, and then gently rolled the unconscious woman from his arms until she was free. He started giving her the kiss of life when Hart skidded down next to him, firing off a few rounds at a straggler who was running along the roof.
“You stupid bastard, Hawke!” Hart yelled.
“I had to save her, Liv!”
“Crazy bastard Limey,” Richards said over the radio.
Cairo looked confused. “I thought you said his name was Sparrow?”
Hawke shook his head. “Name’s Hawke — Joe Hawke. Sparrow’s a nickname a few of the lads in the SBS call me. Sparrowhawk.” He looked apologetic. “To them, this is the height of humor.” He returned his attention to the unconscious doctor.
“Don’t change the subject,” Hart said. “You had strict orders not to engage with the enemy until we arrived. You could have blown the whole operation.”
“Sparrow…” Cairo said disparagingly.
The doctor began to splutter back to life, and Hawke sat her up, leaning her back against the wall. “It’s all right, Tuva,” he said, brushing her hair from her face. “You’re back with us and we’re getting out of here right now.”
“Where am I?” She looked at their faces, totally confused, and began to cough again.
“You’re in hell,” Cairo said.
“Leave it, Cairo,” said Hart.
“Cairo?” said Hawke. “You’re taking the piss out of Sparrow and you’re called Cairo. What sort of name is that?”
“The sort that will kick your arse up one side of your massive ego and down the other if you don’t watch your tongue.”
Hawke looked at Hart. “I thought we agreed only tamed newbies from now on?” “Hey! Who you calling a newbie?”
“I hate to break this up,” Hart said, “but we’re out of here — the chopper’s on its way and is meeting us south of the compound.”
As they marched back across the desert the chopper rose up into the air and crossed in front of the full moon low on the horizon. The wind whipped up, promising a sandstorm and their radios crackled: Taliban on their way.
After checking the photojournalist and doctor weren’t too shell-shocked, Hart said, “One night in Karachi and then we’re going in opposite directions. No idea what the US Navy has in store for you guys, but SBS are being deployed on a counter-terror op in Iraq and SAS are going on a holiday to Kabul.”
“That’s a shame,” Hawke said, turning to Cairo. “I was looking forward to working with you again.”
“You call that work, darling?” Cairo said with a grin. “That’s just a warm-up.”
A ripple of laughter went around the group as they approached the chopper. They shielded their eyes from the sand whipped up by the rotor wash.
“Come on,” Hawke said. “I’ll buy you a drink.”
Cairo gave him a look. “Me? I never touch the stuff.”
On hearing this, Mack and the other SAS men burst into laughter but Cairo didn’t flinch. She climbed up into the chopper and closed her eyes for a second. Her first SAS deployment was over.
Dagger Strike is a short story that I want to make available free of charge to all of my readers who have enjoyed the Joe Hawke Series. It is not available on Amazon or any other digital bookseller. It is meant purely for my readers, and I hope, Dear Mystery Reader, that you enjoyed reading a little bit about some of the team’s past lives before the infamous events of The Vault of Poseidon…
I’m also using this space to thank you all for leaving me so many amazing reviews.
As you may know, publishing novels on Amazon revolves around the review system and without these reviews an author loses his visibility on the rank and will not be able to carry on writing. I do not take these reviews for granted and it means a great deal to me that you take time out to give me this feedback. Thank you.