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Suddenly, the rest of the people around me scattered, leaving me exposed. One of the two men with guns pointed in my direction.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I ran toward a battered taxicab a few hundred feet away. From the corner of my eye, I saw one of the men rush forward. Before I reached my means of escape, a rough hand grabbed my shoulder.

I whirled around and kneed the man in the nuts. He cried out, bending over in pain.

I tried to escape again, but the other man grabbed me around the waist from behind and lifted me into the air.

“Let me go!” I screamed. “I’m American!”

Foul smells hit my nose as the man laughed. While I struggled to free myself from his grasp, the other man walked over with a serious scowl etched on his face. I tensed, thinking he was going to hit me.

Before I knew it, a bag had been thrown over my head. I kicked and screamed at the top of my lungs. Meanwhile, all the men were yelling, but I had no idea what they were saying. I didn’t even know if they were from the Taliban or the henchman of some local warlord.

It didn’t take me long to deduce that fighting and struggling wasn’t getting me anywhere.

One of the men pulled my hands behind my back and tied them. And then someone pushed me from behind.

“I’m going,” I yelled, taking a step forward and wondering what the hell was going on.

My pulse quickened as I was forced to walk blindly. With my vision cut off, the market sounds were clearer.

The men who had grabbed me continued talking, but I didn’t understand them.

This is it. My life is over. I’ll never see my family or friends again. I never even had the chance to say goodbye…

After hearing stories about how kidnapped women were treated in Afghanistan, I told myself

I had to keep fighting until there were no other options.

“Allah Akbar!”

At the familiar cry of martyrdom, I heard gunfire and men screaming in English. This was my chance.

I turned and ran to the left, hoping for a clear getaway and avoiding the fire. The hood over my head made the struggle significantly more difficult, but time was of the essence and I had mere seconds in the midst of the chaos.

Gunfire continued ringing out as I ran face first into a wall. Dropping to the ground, I curled into a fetal position, hoping for the best.

As the shots died down, I heard American soldiers barking orders. I struggled to my feet and screamed at the top of my lungs, “Help! I’m American!”

“Rose? Is that you?” Warren, one of them Savage Soldiers, asked.

“Yes!” I said, shaking. My knees buckled beneath me. I nearly fell to the ground, but was saved by his strong arms. The hood was removed from over my head, and with my newly restored vision, he looked like the most amazing man in the world. Our eyes locked and all the chaos around the market faded into the background for a split second that felt like eternity.

He smiled, his white teeth standing out on his dirt-covered face. “You okay?”

“I am now. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. This was supposed to be a routine check-up on activity at the market.”

“Well, I’m glad you came.”

“You’re lucky to be alive.” He lifted me by my shoulders, making sure I was balanced before releasing his grip. “Let’s get you back,” he said, untying my hands.

I rubbed my wrists and looked around the market. “Is anyone…dead?”

He nodded somberly. “Let’s get out of here before something else hits.”