Page 8 of Delta Mission (Alpha Tactical Ops)

Makenna

My heart was in my throat as we charged up a steep slope. The uneven terrain made running a contest between balance and brute strength. At the top of a ridge, we lay on our stomachs next to a rock as big as a trash can and peered down at the village.

The truck was parked next to our burned-out Humvee, and the men were like ants, scurrying through town. As Channing looked through his binoculars, I looked at him. Thick beard. Long eyelashes. Strength that emanated from the line of his jaw. He was more manly than he had been years ago.

Channing was one of the good guys. And it tore me apart that he never forgave me.

Then again, I had never forgiven myself either.

I dragged my gaze away from the man who had once filled my heart with so much joy I could barely breathe. Beside me was an animal skeleton, most likely a goat. Only the bones were left, and the ribs were like an empty shell. Much like my heart.

“Fuck, that damn kid showed ’em where we went. We have to go.” He jumped to his feet.

I did too, and a bullet pinged off the rock we’d hidden behind.

“Shit!” I squealed.

We took off in a crouching run along the edge of the ridge. Bullets pinged off the massive rocks we dodged around and each time my stomach clenched tighter.

I don’t want to die. Not here. Not now.

“We have to keep moving until it gets dark. You good, Goodspeed?”

“Roger that, Winston.” If he wanted to use surnames, I could, too.

He shot a glance at me over his shoulder; it was half glare, half grin.

“What?”

“Just keep up.” He increased his speed.

I did too, and I was tempted to overtake him, but didn’t.

We raced around a bend in the ridge and stumbled upon a helicopter wreck.

“Shit!” I blurted.

“What?”

“We’re going the wrong way.”

“What?”

“There’s a massive ravine ahead, and there’s no way to cross it.”

He did a double-take at me. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve been studying this area for months. Remember?”

“Well, we can’t turn back.”

We couldn’t go higher either. The mountain loomed above us like a monster. Three-quarters of it was covered in snow. I was not dressed for the cold, and it was already cool enough. Come midnight, it was going to be near freezing.

“Let’s pick up our pace so we can check that ravine before we run out of daylight.” He ramped up his speed, and I matched him stride for stride.

As we kept up our speed, sunlight was quickly absorbed by the night sky. But stars appeared like an act in a magic show and fortunately, the moon crept over the mountain, giving us enough light that we didn’t need our flashlights.

It took longer than I expected to reach the ravine, and the giant gash in the landscape materialized as a jagged black hole that appeared to have no beginning and no end.

“Hey, look, there’s a bridge.” Channing sprinted toward it.

“It’s broken.” I chased after him.

He stopped at the end of the bridge that spanned a hundred yards across the canyon. The bridge was constructed of tattered ropes that looked a century old. They probably were.

He adjusted his helmet and huffed out a breath as he inched toward the edge.

“Oh, my god. You were shot.” I pointed at the circular divot on the side of his helmet.

He removed his helmet and frowned at the dent. “Yeah. When we climbed out of the drug lab.”

“Jesus. You could’ve been killed.”

“Yep. But I wasn’t. Let’s check out this bridge.” Holding onto the ropes on either side, he pressed the first plank with his boot. “Seems okay to me.”

“It’s not. I’ve never seen a single person on this bridge. There’s a good reason for that.”

Crossing this bridge would save a traveler from walking about twenty miles to the next bridge. Yet I’d never seen anyone using it.

“Maybe you just missed them.” He inched further along, gripping the ropes at elbow height and testing each plank with his boot before he took the next step.

Goddammit. I shifted that kid’s rifle around to my back and clipped the holster holding my Glock down. I didn’t need my weapons tumbling into the river hundreds of feet below.

“I have a bad feeling about this.” I stepped onto the first plank.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Channing yelled over his shoulder.

“Following you.”

“No! Stay there until I check it’s safe.”

“No way. If this thing breaks, then we’ll be separated.”

“Well, maybe that’s a good idea.”

“Fuck you, Channing.”

“Right back at you, Goodspeed.”

A loud crack echoed about the canyon. The plank beneath my feet dipped. I froze.

“Don’t move,” Channing shouted.

I strangled the ropes. “I told you this bridge was—”

The right rope collapsed in my hand. The plank beneath my feet dropped a few inches.

“Hang on!” Channing yelled.

“I am!”

We froze in position. The air bristled. My heart thundered in my ears.

A massive snap pierced the silence. The bridge tore away from its anchor behind me. I dove onto the planks and grabbed a rope. We screamed as we swung through the air.

We slammed, face first, into the rocks on the other side, crushing my fingers. Planks and dirt rained over me as I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my body to the timber.

The debris storm ended, and gasping in shock, I glanced up.

Channing was there.

“Jesus Christ.” He burst out laughing.

I wedged my feet between two planks and adjusted my grip. “You’re fucking crazy, you know that?”

“We’ve got nine lives, Goodspeed. Nine fucking lives.”

“Yeah, well, we just used up one of them.” Excruciating pain ripped through my left hand. The top knuckle of my pinkie finger was kinked at a hideous angle. Dislocated. Or broken.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Pretending I hadn’t noticed it, I glanced down but couldn’t see the river that I knew from satellite footage was there. “What do we do now?”

“We cli—” Channing stopped.

“What?”

“Ah, come on!” he yelled.

“What’s wrong?”

“The planks are all missing above me.”

“Shit! Really?” I eased out to look above him. Only the two side ropes of the bridge remained. “Can you climb up?”

Heaving a breath, he shuffled his rifle around to his back, and then reached up, gripped the rope, and with my heart in my throat, he monkeyed a foot higher. He repeated the move, making it look easy. It wouldn’t be.

I was strong in my legs and could run ten miles without breaking a sweat. My arms, though, were another story. I’d been working on them for years, but chin-ups were still the death of me. As Channing increased the distance between us, dread crawled up my spine.

I won’t be able to do this.

He was six feet off his starting point when he stopped. “You’re not going to believe this.”

“What?” I peered up at him.

“I found our shelter for the night.” He leaned into the rock wall, pushed off the rope, and vanished.

What the hell?

He appeared above me, smiling. “Come on up.”

I groaned. I couldn’t do this, but I had no choice. Climbing up the planks to where Channing had been would be easy. The next section though . . .

I looked up at him.

“Come on, what’re you waiting for?”

I heaved a breath. I can do this.

Trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my little finger, I wrapped my hands around the coarse rope and pulled myself higher.

I tried to grip the rope with my legs, but it was pinned against the rocks by my body weight.

I pressed the toes of my boots to the tattered twine, trying to get traction, but the rope was too thin.

Oh, God. My hands were the only purchase I had on the rope.

I froze, gasping like a fucking idiot.

“Makenna. Stop messing around.”

“I can’t do it.” Sweat trickled down my back.

“Yes, you can.”

“I can’t!” I screamed.

“That’s it. Get angry.”

“I am fucking angry!” I breathed onto the rope, tasting ancient dust on my dry tongue.

“Good, now get your ass up here.”

Clenching my teeth until my jaw hurt, I forced my right hand to release the rope and reach upward.

“That’s it. You’ve got this.”

Inch by inch, I climbed.

My arms trembled, and my damaged finger screamed at me to stop.

Stars danced over my eyes as I forced my hand to reach higher.

My pinkie finger scraped over the rock. I cried out and snapped my fingers away.

Fear ripped through me as I dangled with just one hand. Oh, God. I’m going to die.

I forced my fingers to clutch the rope.

Gasping in pain, I rested my head against the rope.

I’m done.

“I can’t do this. I just can’t.”