Lisa, she thought again.
“Li… Li…,” she stammered, trying to speak the name that brought with it parole.
But he was patient, and he spoke softly to encourage her. “It’s okay. Just tell me your name.”
“Lisa,” she finally said. “Mourning.” As the name escaped her lips, an invisible wall in her mind crashed down around her, and the truth of her situation became real.
“We’re here to bring you home, Lisa,” he said.
Dave helped Todd lift her from the bathtub and carefully lower her to the floor, then moved out of the way so Ron could examine her injuries. He stood in the doorway, watching the battered officer writhe in agony, and felt his anger boil over into blood lust for what the Chinese had done to her.
He reached up for the push-to-talk on his chest. “Scar Nine Nine, Mariner One Zero, jackpot. I say again, jackpot. Package secured and moving to extract.”
“Mariner One Zero, Dusty One copies. Seven minutes out.”
“How bad is she?” Dave asked.
Ron stood and led him into the bedroom and out of earshot. “She’s in rough shape.”
“How bad?”
“Probably moderate to severe pain with mostly superficial wounds. We don’t know the extent of her internal injuries, but she likely has some that could result in pulmonary or hemodynamic compromise.”
“English, Doc.”
“It means she’s lost a lot of blood and I don’t know how stable she is. Giving her the wrong medication could be dangerous, but she’s not ambulatory and we’ll have to carry her out. We can’t safely do that with the pain she’s in.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I can give her fifty milligrams of Ketamine intramuscularly. It’ll take close to five minutes before providing any relief.”
Dusty will be here in six.
Dave nodded. “Okay, do it. We need to get moving.”
Ron returned to the bathroom and knelt next to her. “Lisa,” he said quietly. “I’m going to give you something for the pain. Do you understand?”
She nodded. Dave watched him insert the needle into her thigh and slowly depress the plunger. He knew the dosage would likely break the dissociative threshold and put her into a trancelike state while still preserving her airway reflexes and spontaneous respiration. Aside from relieving her from the pain she’d endured, it would temporarily help her forget what was about to happen.
Five minutes.
“Mariner One Zero, Scar Nine Nine, we’re picking up chatter indicating hostiles are inbound to your position. Recommend you beat feet.”
“Roger,” Dave said, then turned to Ron. “We need to move. Now.”
Ron placed a comforting hand on Lisa’s shoulder and rolled her onto her side. She groaned, but it was obvious the Ketamine was already having an effect. Dave helped Ron roll her back onto a soft litter that was little more than a hammock with handles on either end, then he covered her with a poncho liner and stood.
Four minutes.
“Ready?” Dave asked.
Ron nodded.
Dave turned for the stairs, followed by Ron and Graham carrying Lisa between them, and Todd bringing up the rear as they descended to the first floor. They stacked up on either side of the open door and paused for a moment, then surged out into the darkness.
Three minutes.
After the cacophony of gunfire disturbed the peaceful evening, the night sounds were slowly beginning to return to normal. But he could still sense a difference.
There’s movement in the jungle.
“We’ve got company,” he whispered, motioning for Ron and Graham to move deeper into the foliage.
He and Todd fanned out and scanned the surrounding darkness while bounding from tree to tree in a well-rehearsed cadence to cover for each other. Just before reaching the level clearing in front of the lower villas, he froze and signaled for Todd to halt.
Hostiles.
He didn’t know if the Chinese knew where they were, but it was the only way to the beach. With their escape route blocked, they would have to shoot their way to safety.
“Dusty One, status,” Dave whispered.
The reply was instantaneous. “Two minutes.”
“Roger, this will be a hot extract.” Dave looked at Todd.
He nodded, and together they stepped out into the clearing. Dave swept his rifle to the left while Todd aimed straight ahead and to the right. Before taking two steps into the gravel opening, Dave placed his IR laser onto the figure of an armed soldier and squeezed the trigger. His SOPMOD M4 coughed, and two rounds caught the man in the chest.
To his right, he heard Todd engaging targets. Two shots. Then four. The SEALs never stopped moving across the clearing, continuing around the lower villa with Dave on the left and Todd on the right. Behind them, Ron and Graham muscled the litter and hurried to follow in their wake.
Before Dave descended into the tree line, a machine gun opened up on his left and sprayed bullets into the air over his head. He dropped to the uneven ground and rolled to his right to look for cover, then sighted over his rifle and returned fire, walking rounds closer to the muzzle flashes coming from the jungle.
“Contact left!”
But Todd had already heard the machine gun and reversed course up the hill to flank the threat from higher elevation. “Keep moving,” he growled.
Dave knew it was meant for the litter bearers, but he took it as a reminder that they couldn’t afford to get bogged down in a firefight with the helicopter less than a minute from the LZ. It would be a sitting duck on the beach, waiting for the SEALs to climb aboard.
They needed to keep pressing to the extraction site.
The ineffective machine gun fire stopped, and Dave took advantage of the lull to rise to a knee and empty his magazine into the trees. When his bolt locked to the rear, he dropped the empty magazine and indexed a fresh one just as he heard the distinctive chopping sound of an AK-47 on full automatic in the jungle opposite the villa. The staccato of the Chinese rifle was followed quickly by the booming report of Graham’s shotgun.
Todd had heard the same thing. “Mariner One Two, status.”
When the query was met with silence, Dave felt a chill down his spine. But before he could worry about the others, he had to deal with the threat directly in front of him. He slapped the bolt catch along the side of his rifle to chamber a round and rose from his knee to charge the reloading machine gunner.
31
Lisa felt good. Whatever the man injected into her hadn’t eliminated the pain but masked it to where she no longer winced every time she moved. And she was moving a lot in the litter they had made for her, wrapped in a soft and warm cocoon that made her feel as if she were floating through the air and swaying gently from side to side.
She kept her one good eye open, although it focused on nothing and seemed to take in everything without recognition. She saw a thick canopy overhead and twinkling stars in the gaps, but she couldn’t remember where she was or how she had gotten there. Had she just woken up? Had she always felt so warm? Had she ever been in pain? She couldn’t remember, but she thought so.
She heard the heavy breathing and occasional grunt of the two men who labored to carry her cocoon through the jungle, but she didn’t know who they were. She only had the vaguest sense that they were there for a good reason and that she was happy they came. But to where? Where was she?
A thundering crack like splintered wood shattered the silence of her cocoon and sparked a dim feel of worry deep in her mind. But she didn’t flinch. She blinked her one good eye slowly in the only reaction she could make and explored that worry.