PART 7
Riley cut down the machine gun crews before they could pin us.
She hit the men carrying radios.
She broke the group climbing toward her long enough for Beckett to move us out of the compound and into a lower trench.
Every shot bought us seconds.
Seconds became movement.
Movement became survival.
Hayes got a weak signal through to a medevac bird circling outside the weather line.
Doc kept Danvers breathing with both hands and a voice that never stopped telling him to stay angry.
Evans dragged two ammo cans from a dead fighter near the wall and came back grinning like a lunatic.
“Chief,” he yelled, “we are back in business!”
Beckett looked at him.
“Try not to enjoy it.”
“No promises!”
The enemy tried one final push from the wadi.
Riley saw it before we did.
“Romeo Two-Zero,” she said over the net, voice calm as stone. “Ten fighters moving right to left below the broken arch. They are setting for a close assault. You have twelve seconds.”
Beckett didn’t ask who she was.
Didn’t question the voice.
Didn’t hesitate.
“Left wall!” he shouted. “Now!”
We shifted together.
Twelve seconds later, the fighters came over the rise expecting dying men.
They met six furious Americans who had just been given their lives back.
The firefight lasted less than a minute.
After that, the valley broke open with the sound of rotors.
Two Black Hawks dropped low over the ridge.
Dust exploded across the ravine.
A medevac bird came in behind them, banking hard through the haze.
Hayes stared up at the sky.
“Thought they were grounded.”
Beckett’s mouth twisted.
“Funny weather.”
Riley watched the helicopters descend through her scope.
Only when she saw us carrying Danvers toward the bird did she let herself breathe.
May you like
Then a shadow moved ten yards below her position.
Too close.
