Page 17

Next, he found some black socks, sneakers, and a warm parka, just in case.

He’d be carrying her the half mile to the exfil site, but it might take longer than planned, and he wanted to reduce the risk of her getting hypothermia between the rain and cold temperatures if those plans changed.

The blanket would have to do for now. It was dark blue and would keep her from being lit up like a Christmas tree if the beam of a flashlight hit her.

Even a bolt of lightning would reflect white or light-colored fabric.

Finding a duffel bag on a shelf at the back of the closet, he stuffed the garments and shoes into it.

There wasn’t enough time to dress her now, but he’d take care of it as soon as he could.

And since everything had already going to shit on this mission, he wanted to have clothes for her in case they ran into another snafu.

As he bent down to pick her up again, an explosion rocked the house under his feet, and Darius’s eyes went wide. “What the fuck?”

It was then Darius realized he didn’t hear any of the team chatter.

His hand flew to his ear. At some point, probably in the fight with Secada, Darius had lost his earpiece.

There was no time to go back and look for it.

He glanced at his wrist and felt a small measure of relief.

While he wouldn’t be able to hear what his teammates were saying, they could still hear him.

Leaving Tahira, Darius hurried over to one of the windows and peaked out through the blinds.

Shit.

It was a war zone out there. Bright bursts of light indicated bullets being discharged from three directions.

The bodies of several of the cartel’s thugs lay where they’d been hit as they’d exited the bunkhouse.

A fire was burning near the house below Diaz’s bedroom, and a second explosion shook the house again.

Someone had something stronger than handguns and rifles out there, and it wasn’t coming from his own team. Double shit!

It would be impossible for Darius to cross the property into the wooded area that would eventually lead him to the Bravo exfil site, while carrying Tahira.

In fact, even without her, it would still be too risky.

That meant he had to come up with a plan C.

What else was new? During his SEAL and Trident missions, things weren’t truly FUBAR until at least a plan D or even E was needed.

“Batman to Lead One,” he said, holding his wrist to his mouth.

He paused for a moment, listening for a response before his brain kicked in, reminding him his earpiece was gone.

“Batman to Lead One or Tampa Base. I’ve lost my comms. If you can hear me, I have the princess.

Can’t make it to Exfil Bravo. Will head to Rendezvous Oscar.

Repeat, I have the princess, and we’re heading to Rendezvous Oscar for exfil. ”

Hopefully, Ian and the others had heard him and would know he’d be taking Tahira to the orphanage, where Sister Patrice would be able to hide them, if necessary, until the team could get them out of there safely.

The orphanage was about ten miles through mostly thick woods, which would give them cover in case they encountered any bad guys along the way.

A ten-mile hike was not a problem for Darius, but the storm and Tahira’s unconsciousness would slow him down.

It was a toss-up if things would be a little easier had she been awake and able to run, but this wouldn’t be the first time Darius had needed to exit a mission in a hurry while carrying someone.

Lifting the strap of the duffel bag over his head, he hung it from his shoulder, across his chest. He then adjusted the sling of his AK-47 and brought the weapon around to his right hip.

Next, Darius pushed a button on his watch which would give him an open connection to his team without interfering with their transmissions.

If things went further down the rabbit hole, at least they’d be able to hear him.

“Stop fucking jinxing yourself, you idiot,” he muttered.

Turning back to Tahira, he quickly lifted her up and placed her over his left shoulder.

It was a far cry from being a dignified way to carry a member of royalty, but fuck protocol.

He needed at least one hand free to open doors and shoot if he had to.

After making certain she was balanced correctly and wouldn’t slip if he had to make any sudden moves, he hurried to the door leading to the hallway.

After a quick check that nobody was out there, he opened the door all the way and stepped out.

There was a sunroom downstairs at the opposite side of the house with reinforced French doors leading to the large flower and shrubbery garden Diaz’s wife loved to enjoy.

It would provide Darius with some cover until he was able to sprint across the manicured lawn to a small gate in the stone wall surrounding the property.

From there, it was only two or three hundred feet before they’d reach the tree line that would provide a moderate measure of safety as they trekked through the woods.

Descending the stairs with one hand on the back of Tahira’s thighs and the other holding his rifle ready, Darius could hear the gun battle again.

The explosions must have blown out a few of the first-floor windows.

As he reached the foyer, the front door flew open and two men with guns didn’t wait to see if there was an enemy within sight.

Their expressions of surprise were met with a hail of bullets from Darius’s gun.

The men never had a chance to fire their own weapons before death dug its greedy claws into them as they dropped to the floor.

Without hesitation, Darius moved quickly down a small hallway that led to the sunroom.

With the glass walls and ceiling now surrounding them, it would really suck if one of those grenades or rockets someone was using came too close.

Darius and Tahira would be cut to ribbons.

The torrential rains pounded against the glass, as if a thousand horses were in a stampede.

It was almost deafening, but not enough to block out the thunder and continuing gunfire which seemed to still be coming from the other side of the property.

Hopefully, that meant all the tangos were too busy to notice the retired SEAL carrying an unconscious woman.

Trying the handle of the door leading to the garden, he was relieved to find it unlocked.

Peering through the darkness of the night, he didn’t see anyone who might be in his way.

Just to the left of the door was some equipment that must have been left by the gardener.

A small, black tarp covered a portion of the pile.

Darius grabbed it and hastily covered Tahira with it.

The water-proof material would keep her dry until he could find them a defendable shelter for a few hours to wait out the worst of the storm.

After Darius reaffirmed Tahira was settled securely on his shoulder, he took a deep breath and darted out into the downpour.