A Prince Among Men Page 7

  Moving at a high speed in the darkness, it was inevitable that occasionally a soldier would fall, but besides the muffled sound of a knee hitting the hard ground, there was no sound to betray their position. Their stealth meant survival. No man would risk the squad’s security by cursing or complaining, no matter how rough the trek or how sharp the pain…

  Or how cold the water, Ryan thought as they reached the point in their journey where they needed to cross the river. So much for his nice dry socks. Spending the night on a high peak in the cold, soaking wet, while a nice warm woman and bed waited for him back at base was really going to suck.

  Hawk signaled for the group to stop as he searched for the best river crossing possible. As leader, he crossed first, wading across in knee-deep water, soaking his boots and the legs of his uniform pants.

  “Hold tight.” Hawk’s whispered order traveled from his microphone directly into the ears of the squad, silent and unheard by any enemy ears in the vicinity.

  While also keeping an eye out for an enemy attack, Ryan watched as Hawk searched the far banks of the river for useable stepping stones. One by one he laid them in the stream, creating an underwater path for the squad so they wouldn’t have to get as wet as he had.

  Hawk motioned for the men to cross, which they did, now walking through water only as deep as their ankles. At times such as these, Ryan, still mostly dry and warm, was extremely glad Hawk was the squad leader and not him.

  One obstacle down, countless others to go. They moved on, their objective still a few kilometers away.

  It was those last few kilometers where the going really got rough. The ascent became steeper and was riddled with rocks, loose dirt and gravel that gave way underfoot.

  Ryan’s foot slipped with every step he took, turning his ankles treacherously in spite of his high, tightly laced boots. He slid often, but they had no choice. This path was the best option for them to move into position undetected.

  They moved steadily, continuing on until Hawk signaled for the occasional halt. During one of the much too short breaks, Ryan took the opportunity to mop the sweat from his face and take a drink of water to hydrate his body. The night was cool and windy, but he was lathered in sweat from both the long distance they had covered and the roughness of the terrain.

  As Hawk signaled for them to begin moving again, Ryan had no idea as to the time. He didn’t dare use a light to illuminate his watch for fear it would be seen, the same reason why Hawk could not shine the light on a map to guide them. While Ryan had had the leisure of eating, showering and checking on Vicki before they left base, Hawk had spent the time studying a map of their route, memorizing a path they had never before traveled.

  GPS would have been nice, but that would have given away their position just as quickly as using a flashlight to light the map or the trail.

  In spite of all the technologies and gadgets available to the modern day soldier, that night Ryan’s squad instead relied on the same things soldiers hundreds of years ago had: their instincts, a paper map they couldn’t see in the dark, and their leader’s ability to not get them lost or killed.

  Calling another halt, Hawk, speaking as softly as possible, called back to the Tactical Operations Center to let the overnight guard manning the communications know the squad’s current location. They received no response, nor did they expect one. The TOC guard knew to maintain radio silence. Unless new orders came in that needed to be relayed to the squad, only Hawk would initiate calls.

  Still in front to act as guide, Hawk signaled the squad to move again.

  Clear and bright in the night sky, the stars twinkled above them. It seemed as if you could reach right up and touch them. Stars were never this bright near the bigger bases or cities where Ryan had spent most of his life. Too many lights there. Only on a mountaintop in the middle of a dessert could you get a night sky like this. The sight almost made it all worth it…almost.

  Feeling romantic beneath the night sky, Ryan thought about what it would be like to lay beneath these stars on a blanket with Vicki at his side…or maybe beneath him. Mmm.

  His foot slipped again and he went down hard, catching himself with one hand. Taking that as a warning to stop letting his dick do the thinking or it would get them all killed, Ryan pushed aside thoughts of the sweet woman asleep in his bedroom at that very moment and went back to concentrating on the mission.

  As the time passed and all of the men grew more tired, choosing one’s steps carefully became even more crucial. But sometimes, just planting your feet on what appeared to be solid ground could be dangerous. Ryan witnessed that first hand as one moment he was walking beside Wally, and the next, he was falling as the rock ledge gave way beneath him.

  With his heart in his throat, Ryan felt himself plummet into the darkness. It was amazing how fast he could go from being shoulder to shoulder with Wally one moment and twenty or thirty feet down the side of a mountain the next. The only indication of his rapid decent was the sound of tumbling rock and a small grunt.

  He stopped falling suddenly with a wrenching pain in his knee. Kudos to him for managing to keep his mouth shut in spite of the pain that he felt.

  Ryan squinted up the mountain into the darkness and was relieved to see the dark outline of the rest of the squad, kneeling there at the edge peering down at him.

  Something had prevented Ryan from falling any further, even though, judging from the sound, the rubble of the ledge continued to fall far below his resting place.

  Hawk’s voice came over Ryan’s earpiece. “Pettit. Report.”

  “I’m okay. My leg got caught up in a crevice or I’d be at the bottom by now.” Ryan realized his voice sounded shaken.

  It figured, though, that the one time he had a reason to be in good shape physically, that being Vicki, he’d go and fall off a mountain. He hurt like hell, but he was alive, and that was good enough for now.

  “Are you hurt?” Hawk’s question echoed Ryan’s thoughts exactly. As much as his squad all liked him, Ryan knew it would really suck for them to have to carry him the rest of the way, and then back home from there in the morning.

  “I don’t think anything’s broken, but I’m sore.”

  Something about the darkness made things hurt even worse than they would have in the light of day. It was a phenomena Ryan had often observed, usually when he stubbed his toe in the dark getting out of his bunk in the middle of the night to go take a piss. This was the first time he’d felt it while testing gravity by falling off a mountain.

  With relief, Ryan saw two of his men—it looked like Walker and Moraches—start down the mountain to help him back up. He could use the help. The quicker the process of getting them back on track was finished, the better for everyone because at the moment they were as vulnerable as sitting ducks, like the kind you’d find at an amusement park.

  Ryan pulled himself up toward the two teammates who were working their way down to help him. When the three of them finally stood again upon the path, Ryan’s knee buckled when he put weight on it.

  Shit. Wally moved closer to Ryan and shot him a questioning look that most likely said, please tell me you can walk and I don’t have to carry you.

  Ryan tested his left knee again, gingerly putting weight on it. He winced but signaled that he could walk, more pissed off that he was injured, than hurt.

  Hawk, too, glanced back at Ryan expectantly. When he shot him the A-Okay sign, Hawk nodded and the group was on the move once again, the only indication of what had happened was Ryan’s limp. They had no choice in the matter. That night’s mission would fail if their squad wasn’t in place to secure the area before the arrival of the main force. Besides, the squad had come too far to turn back now.

  To add to the fun, a dense fog bank rolled in, cutting their already limited visibility. But again, the fog would only help mask their movements from the bad guys, so Ryan didn’t dare complain about it.

  Over the course of the trek, Ryan estimated that every single man tripped o
r fell to some varying degree, though he took first prize for depth and style, something he was sure Wally would tell stories about to the Joes back at base once they’d returned.

  Finally, they reached the endpoint and Hawk called to the higher ups to report their arrival.

  Having already been briefed by Hawk before leaving camp, Wally and Ryan, as team leaders, quickly and silently moved the men into position. With the mortar tube and the men in place, using the terrain to their advantage whenever possible, the squad was soon established and as ready as they’d ever be.

  Though they had been on the move for an unknown number of hours, and Ryan’s knee was rapidly blowing up to the size of a balloon, the night had just begun for them as they prepared to spend many more hours atop a mountain peak.

  There they would remain, unseen and silent, above a known insurgent strongpoint located only a few hundred meters away. Through thermal viewers, the men would take turns watching the specified area.

  As he sat, Ryan’s body cooled and he felt the cold settle over his sweat-soaked skin. They had brought with them a bare minimum amount of gear to keep them warm. Considering the distance traveled and all of the other far more necessary, possibly life-saving equipment carried by the squad, they could only bring very few items for their own creature comfort.

  Ryan estimated that it took less than half an hour or so before his damp feet began to feel numb. Strange to say but Ryan was grateful for the cold. It gave him something to focus on besides the ache in his knee, the enemy, how tired he was, and Vicki.

  Hawk, as leader, assigned a sleep schedule. The men slept in shifts while others kept watch.

  Shivering, Ryan laid his body out on the hard rocks and closed his eyes for his turn to rest. He fell asleep with visions of Vicki dancing in his head.

  He was awakened for his shift in the early morning hours, just before the main force was due to enter the area—the reason for their little overnight campout. The squad’s mission was to overwatch the main force, who, thanks to Ryan’s squad, moved into the region and then out again safely, confident they were being protected by the crosshairs of their unseen allies, the men high on the mountain whose job that night was to watch and wait. The first ones in, and the last ones out.

  Ryan liked being in that position. He liked even more that no enemy contact was made that night. What Ryan didn’t like so much was the rain, which then, because of the high altitude of their position, turned to snow accompanied by biting wind as a storm moved in on them at dawn.

  Yeah, that part sucked a lot, although they were prepared for it. Their squad’s training in waist-deep snow and blizzard conditions in the German Alps before their deployment to Afghanistan had prepared them pretty damn well for what they found here. But that still didn’t mean Ryan liked it.

  Thankfully, all things, both good and bad, eventually came to an end. With the signal of one gloved hand, Hawk told the squad it was time to move out.

  Red-eyed from exhaustion, sore from lying on hard unforgiving rocks, and shivering from the cold, Ryan and the rest of the men rose upon Hawk’s order. Silently and efficiently, they quickly packed the mortar and whatever else they had taken out of their rucksacks over the course of the night. In full daylight now, they started their trek home, hoping that skill and prayers would insure they remained undetected by their enemies.

  The journey back to base felt even longer than the trip out the night before had, particularly to Ryan, whose knee was telling him it wasn’t at all happy with the treatment he’d subjected it to thus far.

  When Ryan’s squad walked through the gate, they found the main force had returned, all men present and accounted for and no casualties. So, aside from his sprained knee, Ryan considered the mission a success.

  Ryan looked forward to heading to his hut with his roommates and falling into his bed for a nice sound sleep for a few hours.

  Beneath the morning sunshine, the three tired, dirty, and hungry roommates headed for Home Sweet Hut.

  Probably because of his shear exhaustion, Ryan had forgotten about Vicki during the return trip from the mission, but as he walked into the hut, he was assaulted with reminders everywhere: her computer on the desk, her duffle on the floor, the scent of her perfume, probably the most out of place of all the reminders… He’d briefly forgotten, but Ryan sure as hell remembered now. Vicki had spent the night there, but where was she?

  Ryan glanced at his two companions, who also had just remembered they had a houseguest. Feeling very much like the three bears coming home to find evidence of a visitor in their little house, each man turned toward his own bed to see where she’d ended up. And there, in Ryan’s bed, the only bunk with even an illusion of privacy because of the open but well-stocked storage shelving angled in front of it, was their own little Goldilocks, asleep beneath his blanket.

  Hawk raised a brow and shot Ryan a look before glancing at his watch. “Late sleeper,” he commented judgmentally.

  To be fair, it was still early morning. For a civilian, it wasn’t late at all, but Ryan didn’t care how late she slept. He liked the idea of a woman in his bed, even if he wasn’t in it with her.

  Wally grinned. “Looks like you won the reporter lottery, Pettit. Of course, if you’re tired, feel free to put her in my bed. I don’t mind one bit.”

  Hawk shook his head. “Just don’t put her in mine. I’m going to shower and then debrief. Then, I’ll be back and I expect to sleep…in my own rack.” He added the last with a warning in his voice.

  As Hawk left, Wally grabbed his toothbrush and turned toward the door himself. “I’ll see you in about thirty.”

  “Where are you going?” Ryan asked. It didn’t take thirty minutes to brush teeth and for some reason, the thought of being alone with the sleeping woman in his bed for a full half hour made Ryan nervous.

  “To grab some chow, then brush my teeth.”

  That figured. Nothing ever bothered Wally’s appetite.

  Ryan shook his head. He was far too tired to be hungry himself, but his bed was currently occupied. Although, he wouldn’t have minded crawling right in next to her soft, warm, sleeping body, he doubted Vicki would appreciate him doing that. Instead, Ryan grabbed his stuff and decided to head for the shower trailer. Then, when he got back, maybe Vicki would be awake and up and out of his rack, though he doubted he’d get her having been there out of his mind as quickly.

  Chapter Eight

  The best-laid plans often went awry. When Ryan returned to his quarters, clean and showered with his teeth freshly brushed, Vicki was still asleep in his rack. The worst part was, seeing her in his bed like that, all snuggly under the blanket, pretty much robbed him of any chance to sleep as his mind reeled with images of her and him under that blanket together.

  What he could do with just an hour, a bed, and her.

  Still staring at the lump she made under the covers while trying to decide if he should lay down in Hawk or Wally’s bunk and try to get a few minutes shut-eye before they returned, Ryan leaned one hip against the desk, and then jumped when her laptop sprung to life. She must have left the computer on the night before and he had jarred the desk enough to wake the sleeping laptop up. He glanced at the screen. She’d left the document she’d been working on open.

  He did feel guilty and was definitely being nosy, but he couldn’t help himself. Ryan sat down to see what she’d been up to the night before. Besides, Hawk had ordered him to make sure she wasn’t snooping in things that didn’t concern her, things that might compromise security. And sexy or not, she was a reporter. Snooping came naturally to them, so in reality, it was Ryan’s duty to read what she had written. Besides, he simply couldn’t give up the opportunity to learn more about his own Vicki V.

  Excuse firmly in place, Ryan quickly perused Vicki’s document. It appeared to be an article she was writing. With one more quick, guilt-ridden glance toward his bed, Ryan leaned forward and began reading.

  The resurgence of the Taliban in Afghanistan continues to
come in spite of the presence of more than 60,000 foreign troops under the command of NATO and the U.S. military, as well as the over 150,000 government forces. And yet, in spite of the manpower, it still feels as if the war for Afghanistan will have to be won not only one battle at a time, but more likely one man at a time.

  This is particularly true when it comes to the battle for basic human rights for the women of this country. For every one step forward there seems to also be a step back. Case in point, the female Pashtun television reporter who was murdered in her home for refusing to marry.

  After each victory in women’s rights here, one must hold one’s breath and wait for the backlash that is sure to strike in response. Yet, we must still celebrate each victory in the hope that one day this country will change.

  One such victory story that must be celebrated for its endurance is that of Suraya Talid, the Afghani mother of six who in 1988 founded Power for Women, one of only a few women’s nongovernmental organizations in Afghanistan. As an American woman, this reporter cannot even begin to imagine the vast amounts of courage it took to found a women’s nongovernmental organization under the rule of the Taliban. Talid’s dream of an organization that would teach women and young girls how to read started its work in secrecy in her home.

  Talid reported that when the women gathered together, they would use donated books to teach them. They met only in places that had an oven, so if they were discovered, they could burn all of the books. The fear of discovery and of the consequences must have been overwhelming for the women involved, at least equal to the rejoicing and relief when the Taliban lost its political power. After the fall of the Taliban, Power for Women began to conduct its work openly. Talid’s dream has endured and is now the only nongovernmental organization in the third largest western city in Afghanistan.

  One of the organization’s core services is to provide shelter and counseling to women who recently have been released from jail and women who have run away from abusive relationships. These include young girls forced into marriages. Such forced marriage often ends in a life of indentured servitude accompanied by brutal conditions.