Chapter Twelve

“Blade one in position. Moving in on target.”

The silent tension in the cramped room sharpened at the SF team leader’s words. It had been two days since the assassination in downtown Kabul, and Jaliya’s team had uncovered yet another target to raid.

She leaned closer to the computer to watch the live feed from the soldier’s helmet-mounted camera, showing the desolate nighttime landscape in the mountains outside of Jalalabad in neon green. Sergeant Bowen was his name.

She’d met him several times now, and he and a few of his teammates had been in the room during the game night with FAST Bravo last week. She knew his face, what color his eyes were, and that he wore a titanium wedding band engraved with a message from his wife.

It was so much harder to watch an operation unfold in real time when she knew people in the unit involved.

It was even harder tonight, since this was the first time that military action had been carried out based directly on her intelligence. Through her network she’d received a tip late this morning that The Jackal would be checking on this shipment tonight personally. The source was credible, and she had high hopes that tonight would prove The Jackal’s undoing. They’d also tightened security in an effort to stop or at least isolate the suspected leak.

As she watched the soldiers on screen, her mind flashed to Zaid and the rest of FAST Bravo, who had been sent to check out a different village close to the SF team’s target. They’d texted back and forth since the other night in her office, but hadn’t seen each other since.

It was impossible not to worry about him and the others, especially when she had no information on their op or movements. All day she’d been focused entirely on planning this op, and Commander Taggart was monitoring his team from another room.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about Zaid. In a matter of weeks since FAST Bravo had been over here, he had managed to steal his way into her heart. If anyone suspected there was something going on between them, it could be disastrous for her position. She’d done her best to hide her feelings and tried not to pay him more attention than the others when they were in a meeting or briefing, but she wasn’t certain she’d pulled it off.

It was unsettling to feel so intensely about a man when she couldn’t have him. Not for anything more than a short-term fling, anyway. Wondering what he meant by wanting more than sex was driving her crazy, but that was a conversation she wanted to have face-to-face, in private.

Well, you can’t always get what you want.

Yeah. Wasn’t that the truth?

With a mental headshake, she focused back on the screen as the SF team approached the remote village. Everything was so quiet, the team having maintained the element of surprise. The target convoy in the village consisted of seven heavy trucks. Was The Jackal in one of them? Her pulse beat faster.

“Contact, eleven o’clock,” Sergeant Bowen suddenly called out.

Fear slammed into her.

Jaliya gripped the edge of the table harder and stared at the screen, her heart surging with a mixture of alarm and dread as the sharp crack of gunfire filled the audio feed.

The steel door behind her opened quietly. She spared a brief glance over her shoulder to see Taggart step inside before looking back at the screen. The SF team was taking enemy fire from the village.

“Engage all targets!” Bowen yelled over the noise of battle.

The volume of fire increased sharply, a staccato beat that matched the clatter of her heart against her ribs. Her hands turned clammy and cold and she was vaguely aware that she was holding her breath as she watched the footage from Bowen’s helmet cam.

On screen the world tilted and rolled as Bowen hit the ground with a harsh grunt. Jaliya’s stomach clenched.

He didn’t move.

Everyone around her was deathly quiet, only the crack of gunfire filling the room. She stared at the screen, unblinking, horror washing through her.

Get up. Please get up…

“Bowen’s down,” another voice said over the radio.

The army colonel next to her cursed under his breath and shifted restlessly, his eyes glued to the screen.

Through Bowen’s helmet cam, tracer fire arced through the darkness like swarms of lethal fireflies. Satellite imagery on the flat screen mounted on the wall above them showed thermal images of the battlefield, the enemy swarming out of the trucks and houses in the village.

Too many. Far more than they’d anticipated.

Ice shot through her veins as she realized the intel she’d received had been wrong. That the information they’d based this entire operation on had been wrong.

The SF team continued to return fire in the face of the overwhelming enemy force attacking them. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Had thought the intel was reliable after the bad tip she’d gotten last time.

“Fall back,” one of the men ordered sharply.

Jaliya let go of the table edge and straightened, unable to stem the urge to press a trembling hand over her mouth as she watched the tragedy unfold via satellite imagery, helpless to stop it.

Three more SF soldiers fell. Their remaining teammates laid down suppressive fire and rushed in to save them, risking their own lives to pull them out. One fell next to his wounded teammate during the recovery attempt.

Jaliya bit her lips together, horrified.

“Be advised, we’ve got seven wounded, three critical,” a breathless voice reported.

“Jesus Christ,” someone muttered next to her.

It was a bloodbath. And she’d sent them straight into it.

Everything in her wanted to turn and run out the door, flee from this horror and the weight of responsibility crashing down on her. She refused to obey her instinct, made herself stand her ground and watch the carnage she had created unfold in front of her.

Men shouted orders and reported in to the TOC. The soldier handling comms in the room responded at a rapid clip, relaying critical information. “Two medevacs have been dispatched to exfil point delta, ETA thirteen minutes. Gunship en route. Retreat to that position and await—”

“Negative,” one of the soldiers responded, “we don’t have thirteen minutes. Two of our critical are bleeding out.”

Jaliya swallowed convulsively as her stomach twisted. Those men were bleeding out because of her. Dying right there on the screen in front of her.

She couldn’t bear it.

“FAST Bravo’s en route back to base. They’re still close enough to get in there and help,” Taggart said from behind her.

The colonel hesitated for only a split second before waving him forward to set it in motion. Jaliya backed out of his way, cringing inside, alternating between shock and wanting to throw up.

Taggart’s voice registered above the pop of gunfire as the SF team battled to reach the wounded and get behind cover. The minutes ticked by in a surreal haze while she stood there frozen at the back of the room, unable to move, unable to do anything to fix this horrible situation.

After an agonizing wait, a gunship arrived on station and opened fire on the enemy position. Jaliya felt nothing but numbness as the thermal images on screen fell like leaves in a windstorm.

Then SA Hamilton’s familiar voice came over the radio, breaking her out of her trance. “FAST Bravo in position. Moving in now to assist.”

She bit down on the inside of her cheek as the screen split into two feeds, the second showing FAST Bravo moving from a Blackhawk toward the pinned-down SF team. Without knowing who was who, she watched the men who raced for the wounded, knowing one of them was Zaid.

Three Bravo members each stopped next to a wounded man while the rest of their teammates and the gunship kept firing at the scattering enemy. Finally, the medevacs arrived. In the ensuing confusion Jaliya lost track of which unit was which.

But the damage had already been done.

“This is SA Khan.”

Her head snapped toward the radio at the sound of Zaid’s voice.

“All three criticals are onboard the medevacs and en route back to base. Crews have alerted the surgical team to be ready to receive them as soon as they land at Bagram.”

Hearing his voice speak those terrible words made the backs of her eyes burn.

Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

Futile, useless words. Weak words that had no place here. Sorry wouldn’t fix anything. Sorry wouldn’t make this okay or absolve her of the guilt slowly crushing her.

She bit down harder on the inside of her cheek and blinked fast, determined not to let a single tear fall. This was on her and she would stand here and watch what she’d caused, listen to each horrible update until every last man had been safely evacuated from the battlefield.

On screen, FAST Bravo and the tattered remnants of the SF team continued to engage what was left of the enemy as the Spectre gunship made another pass overhead and fired at one of the trucks that was attempting to flee.

A bright flash lit up the feed as the vehicle exploded. Two men jumped out of it, both on fire, and flailed for a few moments before dropping to the ground.

Jaliya watched it all, unable to feel even a little triumph. She just hoped one of them was The Jackal.

Silence enveloped the room for a few moments, before SA Hamilton spoke again. “Be advised, we’re moving in to secure target.”

Another wave of fear hit her as the men emerged from behind cover and started toward what was left of the convoy. FAST Bravo moved in with the remaining SF soldiers, checking the trucks before entering the tiny village.

David glanced back at her and she yanked her hand away from her mouth, straightening her spine. Whatever happened to her after this, she would take it without flinching.

“All remaining trucks are filled with ammo. We’ve got eight prisoners, five of them with non-life threatening injuries,” Hamilton reported. “Khan’s questioning them now.”

A few minutes later, she got the answer they’d all been waiting for.

“Our HVT’s not here,” Hamilton said. “They’re saying one of the KIAs from the destroyed truck was one of his lieutenants.”

“Copy that,” Taggart told him, his voice filled with frustration. “Sweep the village and report back with an update.” He straightened and moved back from the desk, allowing the others to take over again. When he turned his head to look at her, Jaliya swore she saw condemnation in those turquoise eyes.

She jerked her gaze away and focused on the feed in front of her, feeling small and helpless. It seemed to take forever for the men to sweep the village and take samples of the drugs they found before destroying them and the weapons. This time at least, there were a lot of both.

Except the Jackal hadn’t been there. Even though he’d been directly involved with the shipment.

Jaliya squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Damn. So close. But the price paid in American blood to find out he wasn’t there would never justify the cost of the op.

People began leaving the room, brushing past her without a word, and she was too afraid to look them in the face. She stayed where she was until every last man on the battlefield was aboard the helicopters and on their way back to base.

David stopped next to her on his way to the door and put a hand on her shoulder. She tensed, barely resisted the urge to wrench away. “We were close,” he murmured, squeezing gently. “Closer than we’ve ever been to him before. That’s something.”

Jaliya didn’t answer. She couldn’t, her throat was too tight.

David released her. “Come on,” he urged, nodding toward the door. “Let’s go get you some tea.”

“No,” she rasped out. “I’m not leaving until I get an update on the wounded.”

He stared at her for a long moment, but when she didn’t budge, patted her on the back once before leaving.

Now it was just her and four men connected to the SF team in the room. “Is there any word on the wounded?” she made herself ask.

The colonel removed his headset slowly and met her gaze. “Yeah. We’re down to just one critical. The two others didn’t survive the flight back to base.”

Jaliya hitched in a breath as pain stabbed through her chest. The floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet for a moment before she turned and shoved the door open, then blindly raced down the brightly-lit hallway.