Lou's whispered warning through the communications system in their helmets made his jaw clench. Now, they had a new threat. A band of North Korean militants camped, blocking the most direct route to the Imjin River. They'd have to work their way around, but it wouldn't be easy. On Lou's cue, Eric took point and they switched to a due east heading, giving the camp a broad radius. Lou shifted to the rear, keeping watch with Dean, making sure no movement came from the militants. Allie stayed within the tight net of Marines as they increased their pace. The sooner they got out of range of that group, the better.
It didn't take long before the roar of engines entered the camp behind them. Angry voices echoed through the trees. Mitch strained to hear, picking out a few words from the wind. Shouted commands knotted his chest. Kwan had a connection with these militants. His orders filled the woods with armed vigilantes searching for Allie and whoever helped her escape. Bodies crashed through the underbrush and the rumble of off road quads let them know the hunt escalated, tipping the scales in Kwan's favor.
Though Allie didn't complain, she winced with every footfall. Her feet had to be badly damaged. Mitch stopped short, turned and caught her before she ran head first into him. On a hoarse whisper, he commanded, “We've got to move faster. Piggy back now."
He turned and stooped before her, cutting a darkened gaze across his shoulder at her. The snap of a limb nearby made Allie jump. She didn't hesitate. She hoisted onto his back, wrapped her legs tight around his waist, hooked her feet together and grasped his shoulders. Mitch made one quick adjustment to the added weight, but never released his weapon. It was up to her to hold on. The team fell into combat ready mode as they hustled through the trees, trying to place distance between them and the enemy without giving away their location.
The heat of him between her legs warded off the chill of the ice-cold rain. They must look ridiculous racing through the woods as if they were kids playing a game of chicken in a pool. Drenched as she was, she could have easily been in a pool. An image of Staff Sergeant Mitch Sinclair wearing a bathing suit kicked up the heat in her veins. Allie would have smiled if the situation weren't so dire. Ominous echoes reverberated through the trees reminding her death followed on their heels.
Closer and closer the engines hummed. Branches cracked. Voices carried angry shouts she could only imagine equaled her demise. Her heart beat in her throat and she readjusted her grip to lace her arms around his neck, pulling her snug against him. The man beneath her didn't falter. Neither did the band of men around them. Each movement in-sync with the other, like a magical military dance, awed her. Her life lay in their refined capabilities.
The rise and fall of his breathing against her chest caused an unexpected reaction. Allie tried to prevent it by clenching her abdominal muscles and sucking in tight, but it failed. Both breasts reacted with each brush against his back. God, she hoped he hadn't felt them before arching her shoulders, placing a gap between them. A thin layer of cool filled the slender space. It didn't help. Instead, she shivered, involuntarily scraping the taut renegades across his shoulder blades. If they were any sharper they'd have cut through both their clothing. That thought almost made her giggle, but she managed to swallow it. It had to be the total exhaustion making her giddy. Allie buried her head behind his and struggled for control.
On a heavy sigh, she determined it had to be the extreme circumstances for this overreaction. At least that's what the analytical side of her brain tried to convince the hopeless romantic in her soul. Fear thrashed through her system with each noise closing in on their proximity. Allie clawed tighter to his neck, but quickly loosened her grip when he flexed letting her know she choked him. She wanted to whisper sorry, but didn't dare break the silence.
They moved like creatures of the night. Hand signals and occasional clicks of their tongues were their main mode of communication at this point with the enemy closing in. Eric brought them to a halt. Several feet ahead, water roared its way down the mountain like a giant waterslide.
Mitch stood rigid on the bank of what twenty-four hours earlier had been a minor stream that fed into the Imjin River. With the torrential rain, it now was a rapid flowing tributary. A decision needed to be made. Continue winding down along the bank or use this new fast paced waterway to their advantage. He and his men could navigate it without a problem, but doubted Allie would make it without help.
As if they'd read his mind, Eric, Lou, and Dean were quickly making their gear watertight. Mitch helped Allie to her feet. The glide of her body down his sent an arrow of need straight south of his belt. Never had he reacted in such a manner to a woman. Usually, they were a temporary ornament in his life, then they were gone the moment they got too serious. Something about this one piqued more than just his interest. The brush of her nipples with each step he'd taken weakened his resolve to do his duty, uphold his oath, and not ravish the beauty on his back. Did she realize what she did to him? He cupped her chin as he placed a finger to his lips. Her nod relayed her compliance. The look in her eyes made him doubt she understood the full strength of her feminine wiles. Pure innocence stared back at him for a second before he turned and quickly waterproofed his gear as best as possible. The rain soaked everything, but they didn't need their weapons becoming waterlogged while body surfing downstream.
Mitch took Allie's hand and guided her ankle deep into the coldness. He pointed at Eric who eased in, laid out straight on his back, held his head and his plastic wrapped weapon up, and let the river sweep him away. Lou waded in to his hips, then waited for Mitch to escort Allie in deeper. Dean remained on guard until it was his turn.
Reading the indecision in her eyes, Mitch leaned close to her ear and asked on a soft whisper, “Do you swim?"
Allie shook her head. Tears welled in her eyes and for the first time since she'd been pulled from the van, he thought she might cry. He forced a smile hoping to ease her anxiety. Keeping his lips close to her ear, he whispered, “Turn around, keep your back to me, knot your hands together on your chest and once we're in position, cross your ankles and keep your legs straight. Do your best to hold your head up and your mouth closed so you don't swallow too much water."
She turned as commanded and placed her hands in a ball on her chest. Mitch positioned himself behind her, tucked his plastic wrapped weapon between them and wrapped his arms around her waist. With Lou's help, they eased back as one unit-bodies tucked tightly together, her head level with his chin, legs captured between his. Her taut round bottom nestled firmly against his pelvis was the only thing killing him on this ride. Cold water or not, his body reacted into a semi-hard condition he hoped she didn't notice.