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The fine line between strength...and surrender
When a Navy SEAL drops into Khat Shinwari’s life unexpectedly, love opens her up for the first time. But her bond with Mike Tarik comes at the expense of her family’s expectations that she quit the military and start a family in her village. A sergeant in the US Marine Corps and a Shadow Warrior, Khat is torn between giving in to the love she has for this courageous man and walking away from him forever. But deep in dangerous territory, Khat goes missing. The only man who can save her is the one she might need to give up. With Mike’s bravery, Khat learns to trust in the future, all while her ingrained values pull her back to old traditions. Will love or duty win out?
On Fire
Lindsay McKenna
MILLS & BOON
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I wrote Taking Fire and it ended up being 140,000 words long! MILLS & BOON can only print and publish up to 100,000 words. So, something had to give. I didn’t want to just “throw away” 40,000 words about Mike Tarik and Khat Shinwari!
I suggested to MILLS & BOON to create what I term a “Director’s Cut” ebook that would tell “the rest of their story” that couldn’t be told in Taking Fire. And they said YES! That they’d support this extra material so the readers could get the rest of what I had written.
This is a continuation of Mike and Khat’s journey with one another. Where Taking Fire leaves off, this is the “real” ending to the book. I hope you find it emotionally satisfying to walk these extra 40,000 words with them. Do let me know.
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Lindsay McKenna
To my editor, Tara Gavin, Executive Senior Editor, who is one of the most talented people in publishing that I know. She loves her writers. And she supports them with her passion and love for their words and stories. I was lucky enough to have her as an editor in the 1990s, and then again, in 2014. There is no one quite like her and I’ve had the privilege of working with her in a teamwork fashion that has only made me a better writer over time. I salute you, Tara. Thank you for ALL that you’ve done for me over the years. You’re a true editorial champion and there’s no one who can ever replace you in the publishing world.
Contents
AS SEAL PETTY OFFICER First Class Mike Tarik trotted up the ramp into the Chinook, its twin blades turning, shaking and shuddering, he tapped into all radio communications with his SEAL team on board. He sat near the door, in battle gear, and watched his seven other men enter. Lieutenant Jim Sanders, who headed up this QRF, quick reaction force, would lead the men, and Mike would be second in command. LT, as the SEALs referred to their officer, was a seasoned vet and the right man to be on this emergency rescue operation.
The ramp ground noisily upward. The two air crew chiefs inside the bird, gave the Army Night Stalker pilots a thumbs-up to take off. Urgency thrummed through Mike. The woman he loved, Sergeant Khat Shinwari, US Marine Corps, was very ill, being taken care of at the destination village. Worse? Taliban insurgents hid in the nearby woods, ready to attack the walled village to search for Khat and kill her.
Night was falling. Mike listened intently to chatter coming from one of the pilots flying an Apache combat helicopter. One helo had flown out when they needed two. But two were not available from FOB Bravo. There was no drone in the area because none were available. He cursed. The female Apache pilot reported thermal imaging on at least a hundred Taliban fighters amassing about a mile away from that vulnerable Shinwari village. It was men on horseback. She switched to television and although light was bad, she reported RPGs and AK-47s among the group. She sent streaming video back to TOC, Tactical Operations Command, Bagram at the Army base outside Kabul, Afghanistan, who was working with the LT and Chief Mac McCutcheon, back at FOB, Forward Operating Base, Bravo.
The Chinook’s two engines powered up, the shaking intensifying. The smell of kerosene aviation fuel filtered through the nearly dark tube of the oddly shaped helicopter. Mike told his SEAL team to double-check their gear and make sure they had at least eight mags in their H-gear. Everyone began checking. Mike strapped his Kevlar helmet on tighter, making sure his night vision goggles were locked on the rail system on top of it. So much could go wrong. He needed to hurry to save Khat and felt slight relief as the Chinook began a rolling start down the runway. The roar was ear-splitting, but the helmets protected their ears from the worst of it.
“Okay, listen up,” the LT said