Chapter Two

The wail of the wind was broken only by the whomp-whomp of an old Huey helicopter searching for Pops and the Marine. From the brief coded message Pops sent me, I knew they were safe. Me? Not so much.

It was another eight miles to my pickup point and getting there was going to be fun. The Taliban militants were everywhere and there was a sandstorm coming. I sure as hell didn’t want to get caught out in the open when it hit.

I wiped at the sweat slithering down my face and neck. God was it hot, but I didn’t dare take off my ghillie suit. The camouflage netting with burlap strips was the only thing keeping my pursuers from spotting me. My energy levels were dropping rapidly, I had a killer headache and was feeling a bit nauseous. All signs of heat exhaustion. Not a big surprise. The Taliban had been chasing me for over four hours. To make things even more challenging, my water was almost gone.

Thankfully, there was a small, spring-fed lake about two miles due east. I could fill my canteen and take a short swim to cool down. Just the thought of the cold water on my overheated skin brought a smile to my face. I broke into a jog. Paradise awaited.

The whomp-whomp grew louder as the Huey got closer and closer. I increased my pace, which wasn’t easy with a forty-pound backpack weighing me down. If I could get to that ravine ahead of me, I would be safe.

The Huey abruptly changed course.

Shit! Had they spotted me? I dove under a mushroom-shaped rock and held my breath as the helicopter hovered overhead. The gunner had a M60 machine gun pointed my way. If they had infrared technology, I would be the one getting my head lopped off. After what seemed like an eternity it flew off. I let out a shuddering breath of relief. Maybe they were worried about being caught in the sandstorm too.

I got to my feet and sprinted down the ravine. A wave of dizziness hit me, and I fell to my knees. This mission might be the one that got me killed. Would Pops miss me? Probably not. Pulling the canteen out of my backpack, I drank the last of my water and wiped the sweat out of my eyes.

Shit! Footprints. I examined the impressions carefully. Military boots. Four big men, carrying heavy backpacks and hauling ass. Dammit. I bet they were headed for the lake too. The question was: friend or foe? Did they know about the tunnel the smugglers had cut through the mountainside, or the cave filled with canvas bags of poppy seeds? God, I hoped not. I needed a safe spot to rest.

Going into stealth mode, I followed the footprints, and my shoulder sagged in relief. Instead of going up the mountainside, the tracks went east. I quickly climbed up to the tunnel.

Pulling my pistol, I crept silently down the dim passageway. The smugglers had punched a hole in the mountainside, allowing them a bird’s eye view of the lake. I stopped at the mouth of the cave. The bags of poppy seeds were gone. Hopefully, that meant the smugglers wouldn’t be back anytime soon.

I dropped my backpack on the ground and with a sigh of relief removed my ghillie suit. It was like wearing a suffocating tent. A wave of weariness rolled over me and all I wanted to do was sleep.

A man’s laugh drew my attention.

Crap. It seemed the soldiers were enjoying the lake. A lot. Getting the binoculars out of my backpack, I walked over to the crude lookout point and surveyed the lake.

My jaw dropped. Three naked men were floating in the shallow water. They all had dog tags and looked to be American, probably the Force Recon team. My gaze locked on the biggest guy. Yowzer! He made my heart go pitty-pat. Too bad a thick, black beard covered his face. His body was utter perfection. He had to be at least six-feet-seven, with a massive chest, bulging biceps and heavily muscled thighs.

My gaze froze on his groin, and I suddenly knew what Sally meant when she said a guy was hung like a stallion. Would that thing even fit? Since Pops never allowed me to date, I had zero experience with men. Never been kissed and the one kid that tried ended up with a busted jaw: courtesy of my father.

C’mon handsome, roll over and show me your butt.

A coyote howled.

I frowned. There weren’t any coyotes in the Koh-i-Baba Mountain range or were there? I quickly surveyed the area. Nothing moved and there was no sign of any critters. I turned my attention back to the lake and my stomach knotted. It was empty. Somehow, they knew I was here. One of their scouts must have spotted my footprints.

Damn, I wasn’t in any shape to go up against a Force Recon team. I could always ask them for help, but since I was the Army’s secret weapon, that might get me booted. Which was exactly what Pops wanted. Come hell or high water, I wasn’t going to work for the CIA. All I needed was a place to hide, but where?

I gave myself a head smack. Talk about brain dead. Pops said if the Taliban ever found me, I could escape through a narrow crevice in the cavern wall which led to a smaller cave with a waterfall. All I had to do was hide there until the Force Recon team left. Easy-peasy.

I dragged my pack over to the crevice and studied it. I was skinny, but I didn’t know if I would fit. The way the rock curved, I would have about twenty inches in some places.

Crappity, crappity, crap. My backpack was too big, but I couldn’t afford to leave it behind. It held my extra ammo and supplies. Removing the last package of food, I shoved it into my waistband and examined the cave. Where could I hide my backpack and ghillie suit? My gaze settled on an outcrop of rock with a fissure big enough to conceal them. I shoved everything as far back as it would go.

Something skittered down the wall.

Shit! Was that a spider? I took a closer look. Whatever it was, it was big and hairy. Ick. I backed up and eyed the outcrop. Nope, nothing was poking out except for long furry legs.

A coyote’s howl echoed down the tunnel.

Just my luck, they were damn good trackers. I removed my gun belt and tossed it in the opening. God, I hoped there weren’t any more spiders.

A large shadow flickered across the wall.

So, what if the spiders were the size of a small dog. They were probably more scared of me than I was of them. I snorted. Who was I kidding? Spiders gave me the willies.

Maneuvering my body, the canteen, and the sniper rifle through the sandstone slot wasn’t easy. My boot struck the weapons belt. Hooking it around my left ankle, I dragged it with me as I twisted and shimmied along the passageway.

The coyote howled again.

Damn! They were getting closer. I sidestepped as fast as I could. A finger of rock jabbed into my chest, and I couldn’t move. The joy of having big breasts. I leaned my head against the rock and took a calming breath. This was the last time I would go out alone. If I had my own team, I wouldn’t be in this situation.

Pushing my breasts up with my right arm, I wiggled like crazy and managed to squeeze through. Ouch! I had scraped off a good deal of skin in the process.

I jerked on the gun belt and heaved a sigh of relief as it followed me into the smaller cave. Well, that was fun. I stood there and looked around. Sunlight poured through an opening in the roof. If things got nasty, it was an escape route. No sign of spiders or any other kind of critters.

My gaze settled on the water cascading down the rocks into a small pool. I did a fist pump. “Yes, there is a God.” I propped my rifle against the wall and dropped the gun belt next to it. I couldn’t resist the siren call of the water any longer. Pulling off my boots and socks I jumped in and sucked in a startled breath. Cold! It was so cold. I sloshed over to the waterfall, filled my canteen and drank my fill. Pure ambrosia.

Smiling like a loon, I stuck my head under the water and let all the sweat and sand wash away. Damn, that felt good, but my toes were going numb. I climbed out of the pool.

The wind whistled shrilly as the storm hit, but luckily, none of the sand came into the cave.

Taking out my satellite phone, I checked the weather conditions, and grimaced. The wind was clocked at over 100mph. Was my competition caught out in the sandstorm, or had they found cover?

A low beep sounded from my phone. I checked the message. The coordinates for my pickup location had been changed. My shoulders slumped. I now had an eighteen-mile hike. Was Captain Harris responsible for the change or was it my father’s idea. The bastard was determined to make me quit. I acknowledged the change.

My stomach rumbled hungrily. I hadn’t eaten anything since this morning, and I couldn’t afford to lose any more weight. All these missions were taking a toll on me. What I really needed was some down time. Would I get it? Not a chance.

I pulled the squashed package of tuna and crackers out of my waistband. I studied it for a moment and sighed. The chocolate bar was a melted mess. It was supposed to be my treat for the day. How had my life become so complicated?

I collapsed on the sand and carefully tore open the MRE package. Damn, the crackers were crushed. Using the plastic fork, I stirred the crackers crumbs into the tuna and wolfed it down. I eyed the squishy candy. Chocolate oozed out of the wrapper. What the hell. I crammed it in my mouth and ate the candy, paper and all.

My phone beeped again. I checked the messages. Captain Harris wanted to know if I had any contact with a Marine Force Recon team. No, I typed and hit send.

His response? Avoid them at all costs.

I didn’t answer him. Why was a female sniper such a big secret? I laid my head back against the cool rock floor and closed my eyes.

“Clear,” A male voice shouted.

I shot upright. Shit! The Marines were here. I glanced at my watch. Ugh. I had only been asleep for twenty minutes. Bet they were a bit sand blasted.

“What info do we have on the hostile, Johnson?” The man’s low, gravelly voice sent goosebumps over my body.

“Not much, Sergeant. The boot prints belong to a size six military boot, and I tracked him to this cave,” Johnson answered.

A deep voice shot back, “Him? The scuttlebutt says the Scorpion is a woman.”

“There’s not a female alive that can pass sniper’s training, Rodriquez,” the sergeant spat in disgust.

I scowled. What a dick.

“You sure about that, sir,” Rodriquez replied. “This is an awfully small ghillie suit, the backpack has U.S. Army stamped on it, and these are tampons.”

I smothered a groan. How had they found everything so fast. And why hadn’t the damn spiders bit them?

“Sonovabitch. Find her.”

“Her boot prints lead to that slot in the wall,” Johnson said.

Someone let out a whistle. “Only a midget could squeeze through that opening.”

“I’m Sergeant Alexander Stone of the U.S. Marine Corps. Get your ass out here, soldier. We aren’t the Taliban, and I want to know what happened to the rest of your team.”

I snorted. What team?

“I outrank you, soldier,” Sergeant Stone snapped. “You will answer my questions. Does your team need to be rescued, or did you get separated from them?”

I let silence be my answer. They were too big to fit through the slot and I had my orders.

“You can’t stay in there forever.”

The sergeant was right, I couldn’t. The thought of leaving my backpack and ghillie suit behind turned my stomach. If I got into a shootout, I’d be screwed. I studied the small opening at the top of the cave. I’d fit but it would be one hell of a climb.

“Chiquita we are on the same side,” Rodriquez called. “We won’t hurt you.”

Maybe not, but if I got kicked out of the Army, Pops and his creepy boss would be waiting for me.

Sergeant Stone snarled, “Did you freak out when the shooting started? Did you leave your team behind? Is your cowardice going to get you court-martialed?”

What a jackass. With my luck, he was the hot guy.

The sergeant let out an exasperated sigh. “Rodriquez thinks you’re the Scorpion. Me? I think you’re the radio operator and you left your team without any way to communicate with your base.”

I gave him a one-fingered salute. Too bad the ass couldn’t see it.

“There is no food in your pack, Chiquita. I bet you’re hungry.”

Oh great. Now they were doing good cop, bad cop.

“Join us for dinner, Chiquita. You can choose between beef stew or spaghetti.”

I had to admit, I was tempted, and I was so tired of being alone.

“I’ll even toss in a chocolate bar, if you answer all my questions,” Sergeant Stone growled.

God, I wanted to shoot him.

“She might be injured,” Johnson said.

Sergeant Stone countered, “There’s no blood on her backpack or ghillie suit.”

I laid back down and tried to ignore all the noise they were making as they set up camp.

“Last chance, Chiquita.”

My stomach growled loudly. The spaghetti smelled so good.

Thwap! Thwap!

What the hell? I walked over to the slot. Someone had tossed me two candy bars. Was this some kind of trick?

“Tell me your name and I’ll give you an MRE too,” Sergeant Stone said.

I picked up my canteen and drained it dry. The water would fill my stomach for now.

“If you’re not out by morning, I’m lobbing a smoke grenade in there,” Sergeant Stone said nastily.

What a jackass. Grabbing my sniper rifle, I used the barrel to drag the candy to me. I had an eighteen-mile hike ahead of me and I would need all the calories I could get.