MARINE SERGEANT CHAD CORALLIS pressed his shoulder against the crumbling clay wall that ran along the outskirts of the remote village. His nostrils burned from the caustic stench of rotting food scraps and trash bags baking in the scorching sun only a few feet away. But he kept his eyes peeled on the one-story building that stood in a gated courtyard across the street. His war dog, Aries, stayed in position at his side.
Chad adjusted his helmet then held up two fingers and pointed twice in the direction of the only other nearby structure, signaling for his men to head there. Corporal Jaxon, the youngest member of their squad at eighteen, nodded and passed the order on to the three men behind him. In a flash, Chad had his M27 aimed over the wall to cover the team as they began to move.
Jaxon led them, crouched low, to their new position—the roofless remnants of an old shop that had been stripped and beaten by years of war. A field of red poppies streaked across the landscape like an ominous river of blood flowing from the dusty, bleak village.
His men were well trained.
They’d survive this.
They had this.
The squad had captured multiple insurgents in Kandahar without a loss to the platoon. They’d endured unfathomably brutal conditions last winter at their outpost, working alongside Afghan troops to take down a Taliban stronghold. They’d even survived an ambush between Marjah and Nawa. Barely, but they were here now.
Still in Helmand Province.
Still alive.
He shifted, rising just enough to scan the street before moving to his next position. A woman draped in a burka walked briskly down the street, tugging on the hand of a little girl who’d dropped her doll. Every detail registered...the tall, lanky build of the woman, a curtain fluttering in a window across the street, a scruffy dog sniffing its way toward the trash...
Chad muttered a curse and kept firm control of Aries. He willed the other dog to stay away. One bark by either and they’d be sitting ducks.
He motioned for his men to wait. Adrenaline sizzled in his veins. He aimed his M27 and prepped for their cover to be blown.
Someone called out a name in Pashto and the dog trotted off down a narrow alley to the left. The girl grasped for her doll, as her mother held her hand tight and tried hurrying her along. Chad took two deep breaths...the kind he used to take as a kid before diving into the crisp waters of a crystal-clear pool on a swim with his sister and brothers.
He was doing this for them. For all the innocents out there...families, children, parents, loved ones. People all over the world who deserved the priceless, innate human right of peace of mind. The right to know they were safe from harm. But evil was a slippery, elusive, son of a—
A bead of sweat trailed along his throbbing temple and hit the corner of his eye. He blinked it away and focused. He was born to do this. His father was a marine. Being in the armed forces—fighting evil—was in his blood. Failing wasn’t. He looked from the road to his men.
They were in position. They knew the target’s coordinates. What in God’s name was taking so long for the final order? He waited to hear his commander’s voice come through his earpiece. He itched to move. Every cell in him was on fire.
The order came through.
Jaxon and the seven others on his team abandoned their cover and headed for the target, just as a small cart rolled down the street toward them like tumbleweed through a ghost town. The little girl pulled free from her mother’s grasp, scooped up her doll and ran toward the cart. Her mother yelled and ran after her.
Something was off. The cart was rolling too slowly. It was too close to his men. Too close to the little girl. And there was no sign of its owner coming after it. Aries growled and tugged.
“Fall back! Fall back!”
Chad leaped over the wall and ran like hell toward the cart, Aries at his heels.
Jaxon’s gaze jerked to Chad then to the cart. Then he looked once more at Chad, his eyes glazed with an eerie calm...and an unflinching resolve. Jaxon pushed the others out of his way and ran to intercept the cart.
“No!” Chad couldn’t let him do it. Images of his younger brothers filled his head. Family. These men were his brothers, too.
He had to protect them. He had to protect the innocent, too.
The child stopped in her tracks, green eyes wide with fear at the sight of his men. Her mother picked her up and ran.
Chad’s pulse pounded in his ears as he ran. Two more feet. He had to make it. He would.
The cart closed in. Jaxon lunged toward it. Chad collided with him, grabbed his arm and threw him to the left while shoving the cart as hard as he could to their right. It rolled a couple of feet before it stalled against a small rock...
And detonated.
6½ Months Later
LEBOO STEELED HIMSELF against the metallic stench of blood and the sight of ripped flesh. What if there was a trail of blood leading here? What if he got caught? It didn’t matter at this point. He had no choice. He had to put his family first. That’s what brave ones did. They were fearless. They hardened their heart if that’s what it took to face danger or death. He was being tested. And he would prove himself worthy. Of being a man. A protector.
He pulled the roll of bandage wrap out of his pocket along with a handful of herbs he’d learned were good for clotting. It had to be enough until he could get his hands on something for infection. He eyed the gun that lay against the mass of mangled roots that formed the cave-like thicket camouflaged by a copse of elephant pepper trees and tall clumps of savannah grasses. He had to try. He had to stay alive. He’d do whatever he had to do...even if it meant killing.
* * *
LEXI GALEN TAPPED the syringe and slowly depressed the plunger until the last bubble of air escaped. Finally, the last vaccination for the day. She was so tired.
Maybe she shouldn’t have traveled so