Prologue

Covert Iraqi MilitaryTraining Facility

Somewhere near the Iraqi border

Three years ago…

"Good job, Malik."Second Lieutenant Raegan Perry assessed the Iraqi soldier's stance. "That's really good."

The man standing before her beamed with pride, his dark brown eyes shining bright with his uplifted smile.

"I practice." He gave an energetic nod of his head. "Every morning. Every night."

His English was a bit broken, and his Middle Eastern accent was strong, but Raegan had understood him perfectly.

"It shows, Malik." She returned the man's smile with a friendly pat on his camo-covered shoulder. "Good job."

She moved to the next man in line. This one was less disciplined in his stance, and the way he was holding his weapon…

"Try holding it like this, Samer." Raegan repositioned the man's hold on his rifle. "With your right hand here, and your left…here. That way, if you have to engage quickly, you're prepared."

Unlike Malik, Samer Nasim Ali didn't take as kindly to her constructive criticism.

"I've been shooting weapons since I was a child." He shot her a glare. "I know how to hold a fucking gun."

The man's accent was less prominent than Malik's, but his disdain for her was clear as freaking day.

It wasn't like Samer's attitude toward her was anything new. He'd been a challenge from the moment her unit had arrived nearly three months ago. Not quite as much toward the men, though his feelings for Americans in general seemed more than a little lackluster.

But being questioned by others—or sometimes even blatantly ignored—wasn't new territory for her. Raegan had dealt with the same men-are-better-than-women attitude since she'd first joined the Army seven years ago. It only got worse when she decided to become part of the Army Military Police Corps.

Of course, being five-four, petite, and blonde probably didn't help her case any. And while she was tempted to remind Samer that her M.P. unit had been sent to Iraq to help keep his and his men's asses alive, she refused to take the bait.

This wasn't Fort Hood, and the notion of women as military leaders still didn't sit well with some Middle Eastern men. While Raegan thought the archaic view was, well…archaic…she'd also been trained in the art of respecting cultural differences.

Whether she agreed with them or not.

"I understand you're familiar with weapons, Samer." She kept her expression schooled and her smile friendly. "No one is questioning that. I was just trying to point out that this particular rifle is different than the one you and your men are used to carrying. And since it's my job to make sure you can maneuver it quickly and efficiently, when the time comes, I wanted to show you another alternative."

Samer's gaze darkened with a chill she felt down her spine. Using slow, exaggerated movements, the jerk put his hands and weapon back down exactly as they'd been before she'd tried to help.

To hell with biting my tongue.

Inching closer, Raegan craned her head back a bit more to meet the thirty-five-year-old's icy stare. "You don't want to listen to me, fine." Her voice held strong. "But you keep refusing our help, and you will end up getting yourself or one of your men killed."

Because she'd seen Samer's skills behind the trigger. He was a good shot. The man wouldn't be here otherwise. But good wasn't great, and Samer would never get there if he didn't knock that giant ass chip off his shoulder and listen to what she was trying to say.

Like that's ever going to happen.

The man's light brown face twisted with hatred, and for a fleeting second, Raegan was tempted to ask if all men with micro penises were as charming as him. Thankfully, her professionalism prevailed, and she moved to the next soldier waiting in line.

One week, Rae. Just one more week, and you'll never have to see him again.

That's right. Seven days was all she had left of her time in this sweltering hell hole, and she refused to let Samer, and his smug, holier-than-thou attitude get to her now.

With the mental pep-talk pushing her forward, Raegan moved down the line and continued on with her day.

Hours later, Samer and the rest of his covert group left for the night, and Raegan and her colleagues were finally given the chance to clean up and grab a bite to eat. After a quick, cool shower, she and three other M.P.s in her unit were finishing up their final meal of the day.

"Just think." Private First Class Joseph Mills set his used napkin down on his disposable tray. "A few more days, and we'll be back to eating greasy cheeseburgers, loaded fries, and drinking ice-cold soda…through a straw."

Raegan chuckled at the young soldier's comment. "Spoken like a guy who just turned twenty-two and has the metabolism of a horse."

Chief Warrant Officer Tré Tupper grinned at their young teammate from his seat across the table. "Careful, Joe. That shit will catch up to you eventually." The forty-something African American man gave his slightly rounded belly a pat. "Trust me."

Typically, as a first lieutenant, she wouldn't be sitting at the same chow table as her chief or those ranking below her. But since the nine-man covert op they were on was anything but typical, they were allowed to play this one by a slightly different set of rules.

"Chief's right," Raegan agreed with the man in charge of their elite M.P. team. "Sometimes even good genes only last for so long."

Created in the spitting image of her late mother, Raegan was naturally petite and blonde with golden eyes. Also, like her mom, she knew first-hand the work it took to maintain her lean physique.

The shorter a person is, the more five extra pounds feels like ten.

It was one of the reasons Raegan spent so much time in the gym back at Ft. Hood. She wasn't body-obsessed or anything like that. And she absolutely did not condone body shaming in any form or fashion.

Real beauty—the kind of beauty that truly mattered—could be found in every shape, color, and size. But her regular routine of lifting and running helped to keep Raegan's stress levels down and her body in excellent shape. Not for vanity reasons but so she could do her job to the best of her ability.

For her unit.

Her country.

For you, Mom.

The unexpected thought left Raegan drawing in a deep breath of emotions as she reached for the glass she'd only recently set down. Taking another swig of the water that used to be iced, she placed the cup down and swiped at the sweat covering her brow.

Definitely going to have to shower again before bed.

As if reading her mind, Sergeant First Class Valarie Lane said, "I'm just ready to be someplace where my face doesn't feel like it's going to melt off." The tough-as-nails woman raked a hand through her short, blonde hair. "People talk about the heat back in Texas, but damn. This is brutal."

The thirty-eight-year-old mother of three was known for speaking her mind. It was one of the things Raegan liked most about her. With Valarie, you always knew where you stood.

Curious now, Raegan picked up her phone and checked the weather app.

"A hundred fourteen." She turned the device around so the others could see. "It's eight o'clock at night, and it's still one hundred fourteen degrees."

"Such horseshit." Mills shook his head in disgust.

"I talked with the missus earlier this morning," Chief Tupper shared. "Told her to make sure the AC was cranked way the hell down by the time I get back home."

Valarie started laughing. "I told Daniel the same thing when I talked to him and the girls last night. I said I didn't care how much extra duty time I had to sign up for to cover the extra on the electric bill, as long as I don't wake up covered in sweat every damn morning."

"Right?" Tupper released a deep, raspy chuckle.

Several minutes passed by with the casual conversation shifting from the weather to what they missed most back home.

"Burgers and fries," Mills answered first—and without hesitation. But then, "I'm just playing. First thing I'm doing when we get back is see Claire."

Claire was Joe's girlfriend of nearly two years, and Raegan had gotten to know the other woman rather well. When Joe recently shared a picture of the engagement ring he had hidden in his dresser drawer back home, Raegan was genuinely happy for them both.

"You still gonna pop the question when you get back?" She looked over at a man she considered a friend. "Or do you have some big, elaborate plan all worked out?"

"I amend my earlier statement." The young soldier raised a palm and shook his head. "I should have said, when we get back, I'm driving straight to my place where I'll shower, shave, and make myself presentable as fast as is humanly possible."

"And then?" Valarie asked.

"Then…" Genuine affection filled Joe's elated eyes. "Then, I'm taking Claire the ring, and I'm not leaving her place until she says yes."

"Uh…you know, getting arrested for harassment and/or trespassing may not be the best thing for your career," Raegan teased.

"Nah, I ain't scared." Joe smiled wide. "Of course, she's going to say yes. I mean…" He stretched out his taut arms as if to say look at me before adding, "What's not to love?"

Raegan and the others laughed and shook their heads, each of them having grown accustomed to the man's outgoing personality. But something Joe didn't know—not with one hundred percent certainty, anyway—was that Claire absolutely was going to say yes to his proposal.

There was no doubt in Raegan's mind, because while they'd been at the cookout Chief Tupper and his wife had hosted the night before their deployment, Claire had pulled her aside to confess to having accidentally found the ring.

When Raegan asked the other woman what she would say when the time came, the pretty redhead had whispered to her…

I love Joe with all my heart. Of course, I'll say yes.

And that meant, in roughly one week's time, Joe would officially be engaged.

Deep inside, Raegan felt herself smiling for the two lovebirds. But as the small group's conversation dipped into a lull, the familiar twinges of jealousy began settling in.

You'll have that someday, too, Rae. Career first, picket fence later, remember? Just stick with the plan, and eventually, you'll get everything you ever wanted.

It was the same mental speech she'd given herself time and time again.

At twenty-five, it wasn't as if her biological clock were ticking or anything. But she'd be lying if she said the idea of having someone waiting for her back home wasn't more than a little appealing.

With a quick, indiscernible glance Valarie's way, Raegan thought about Daniel—the woman's husband. Former military himself, the supportive and loving dad now spent his days working as a Monday through Friday security guard at some Fortune 500 company in Austin. Val once told her Daniel had taken the job so he could work while their daughters were in school and be home with them in the evenings and on weekends.

What it must be like to come home to a strong, supportive man who loves you…

The idea sure painted a really nice picture. But it was one that would have to wait to be hung. The walls of her life were currently far too flimsy. Temporary, at best.

But later…

As long as she stuck to the plan, Raegan was confident she'd be able to put up some real walls. Ones attached to a foundation strong enough to hold the kind of life she dreamed of building.

After I've put my time in…after Quantico…then I can focus on that stage of my life.

Because that was the plan. And since it hadn't failed her yet?—

"What about you, Sarge?" Joe's question to Valarie cut through her thoughts. "I'm assuming you just want to get home to the fam?"

"Daniel and the girls," Valarie nodded with a loving grin. "Absolutely. Just thinking about hugging them all again…" The other woman sighed. "It's what gets me through each day."

Wanting to keep the focus on the others, Raegan looked across at Chief Tupper.

"Trudy?" she assumed he missed his sweet wife most of all.

"Don't you know it!" The man's lined expression softened as he spoke of his wife of twenty-seven years. "Did I tell you that woman nearly tanned my hide when I told her we'd been deployed? She was all about reminding me that my retirement papers go through in six months. She said, and I quote, ‘If you even think about getting hurt while you're over there, I'll kill your dumb ass my damn self'."

Raegan and the others chuckled at the image of Trudy giving hell to the man they all answered to. "And what did you say back?"

The same ornery grin they'd all come to know and love spread across the man's kind face. "I told her just for that, if my dumbass ass dies over here, or anywhere else, I'm going to haunt her for the rest of her days."

Her eyes grew wide. "You didn't."

The respected man pushed his broad shoulders back and jutted his chin. "I most certainly did."

"Yeah?" Valarie joined in the fun. "And how did Trudy respond to that?"

Clearing his throat, their unit leader's chin dropped just a tad when he admitted a bit more quietly, "She, uh…" He cleared his throat again. "She vowed to find me after she passes so her ghost can spend eternity slapping the shit out of mine."

The entire group broke out in laughter, including Chief Tupper. It was obvious to anyone that the man loved his Trudy dearly. They all did. Which, of course, made his attempts at convincing them otherwise that much more amusing.

"What about you, Lt.?" Valarie turned her pretty blue eyes Raegan's way. "You seeing anyone back home?"

Well, crap.

"I, uh…I don't really date all that much." Or at all, for that matter. "I'm just trying to stay focused on the job for now, you know?"

"That'll change," Chief Tupper spoke as if his words were fact. "One of these days, probably when you're least expecting it, you're gonna meet someone who makes your heart sing and your toes curl inside your boots."

"Is that how it was when you met Trudy?" Raegan couldn't help but ask.

The man's deep, affectionate smile answered the question before the loving husband responded with a contradicting shake of his head. "It was even better."

Envy sank deep as the four stood to dump their trays before resigning to their assigned quarters with the rest of their unit. Stepping out of the small, cinderblock chow hall, Raegan felt like she'd just run smack dab into a wall of thick, damp, unbreathable heat.

One more week.

"But don't wait too long," Tupper spoke up again. "You keep putting your career ahead of everything else, there won't be anything to look forward to when you finally do get ou?—"

An explosion shook the ground beneath their feet, and Raegan and the others nearly tumbled from its waves.

"What the hell?"

Their eyes flew to their right, where a giant cloud of black smoke and flames billowed high into the air. Though the smoke was thick, Raegan could easily see the massive chunk now missing from the concrete wall surrounding the base.

Oh, shit!

Somewhere across the open courtyard, one of the Iraqi soldiers shouted out an ominous warning.

"Incoming!" the alarmed man yelled.

Three seconds later, a HESH round, or high explosive squash head, struck a group of trucks parked near the small building positioned at the far east side of the base. On impact, the deadly round sent a shockwave of metal fragments through the stationary vehicles, setting off a chain of devastating events.

The trucks blew, their metal bodies twisting and breaking as their remains flew in every direction. Raegan and the others watched in horror as over half of the building behind the trucks fell in on top of itself.

Our quarters!

With nothing but her unit's safety in mind, Raegan pulled her service weapon from her hip as she took off in a dead sprint across the courtyard. "Cover me!" she ordered to the others, momentarily forgetting her commanding officer was among them.

"Goddamn it, Perry!" Tupper hollered after her. But then, "Get to the trucks! I've got your six!"

She pushed her booted feet as fast as they would go. She needed to find cover ASAP, because more was coming.

I can feel it.

With her 9mm striker fire Sig Sauer M18 up and at the ready, Raegan held the gun steady as she kept her head on a constant swivel. Dirt flew from her boots as she continued pushing her legs to their limits.

The air was so thick, getting a full, deep breath was nearly impossible, but she gave no thought to stopping. Quitting wasn't an option. Not when six of her friends were in that building.

Have to get to my team! I have to make sure they're safe!

This moment right here was her reason for spending so much time in the gym. This was why—even when it was the very last thing she'd wanted to do—Raegan had continued her daily runs while stationed here. Despite the godawful Iraqi heat.

She'd pushed herself in the past to be prepared for the now. And right now, her one and only goal was getting to her people and making sure everyone was okay.

Over half the damn building's gone, Rae. If they were in there when that shell hit…

Refusing to let her mind go there, she concentrated on pushing herself even harder. Shouts of angered words she couldn't understand came from the area where the base's concrete wall had been breached. Sparing a glance that way as she ran, Raegan's stomach clenched with fear as a group of insurgents began storming the base.

Ah, hell.

Several shots rang out, and bullets whizzed past as the battle between good and evil raged on. One flew so close to her head that Raegan felt its heat feather across her cheek, but she managed to duck in time to avoid being hit.

Damn, that was close!

With only a few feet remaining between her and the remnants of one of the destroyed vehicles, she ran straight for it with plans of using the hunk of metal as cover. But just as she thought she was home free, something slammed into her thigh.

Raegan's right leg crumbled beneath her, and she tumbled to the ground like a flailing rag doll.It took a moment for the pain to strike, but when it did…

Holy shit!

She gasped, her hand slapping over the source of the pain. Warm, sticky blood oozed up between her fingers and spilled over the back of her hand and beyond. It was only then that Raegan realized what had happened.

Her pulse spiked, and panic threatened to take over. She'd been shot. Fucking shot! And if that blood was coming from her femoral artery?—

Move your ass, or your leg will be the least of your concerns!

The pain turned vicious in its intensity as it spread up and down her entire limb. A blinding, white-hot inferno doing its damnedest to take over and pull her away.

It would be so easy to give into the fire. To let the pain take over and to simply give up. But that wasn't who Raegan was, and it damn sure wasn't how she was built.

Life had thrown her all sorts of challenges along the way, and she'd made it through them all. True, this was the biggest, most terrifying one she'd faced yet, but there was no way in hell she was just going to roll over and die.

Not without a fight. And not without taking out as many of those bastards as I can, first.

Forcing herself to move, Raegan temporarily abandoned the wound and began half-crawling, half-dragging herself to cover. Small rocks and clods of dirt dug into her left forearm, side, and hip, but she ignored it and forged on.

Movement to her left caught her attention, and she didn't hesitate before bringing her weapon around and pulling the trigger. Two to the chest, one to the head.

Exactly as she'd been trained.

Consistently coming out on top during her unit's course of fire shooting exercises, Raegan always, always hit her target. Today was no exception.

The man's eyes grew wide with shock half a beat before the blanket of death took over. Falling where he stood, Raegan didn't bother waiting for the terrorist bastard to land before resuming her quest for safety.

More shots rang out, and another explosion roared throughout the base. Forced to duck and cover as best she could, she protected her face from the rainstorm of shrapnel as it plummeted down onto her body from high above.

And even with the cloud of dust and dirt impairing her vision, Raegan still managed to take out two more tangos before pulling herself around the back side of a pile of metal formerly known as a Deuce and a Half.

Positioned between the totaled truck and what was left of their sleeping quarters, Raegan gave herself a handful of precious seconds to catch her breath and assess her injured leg. She glanced down, her stomach nearly revolting when she saw the amount of blood still leaking from her body.

"Perry, what's your status?" Chief Tupper's voice filled the comms unit attached to her vest.

The familiar sound was oddly soothing, and one she'd desperately needed to hear.

"Took a hit to the leg, but I'm pretty sure it missed the artery!" she shouted into her mic. "Applying the tourniquet, and then I'll head into the building to search for survivors."

Please, God. Please let them have survived the explosion.

"I'm pinned down behind the drums and the chow hall!" her commanding officer informed her."

"Air support?"

Chief Tupper offered the only bit of peace he could in the midst of hell…

"Already made the call! ETA five minutes!"

Five minutes, and the undercover reinforcements stationed not far from the base would arrive. Once they got here, the enemies would be efficiently eliminated.

A lot can happen in five minutes. Like, say, someone bleeding out from a bullet to the leg.

Springing into action, Raegan leaned forward and reached behind her to the small of her back. Once she'd yanked the personal first-aid kit free from her belt, she raced to get the damn thing opened so she could put it in place and get to her team.

She wanted to go now but understood the risk involved. It was just like on a passenger jet, when the flight attendants gave their instructions regarding the oxygen masks.

You first, and then your loved ones.

It was a concept some didn't understand. Raegan did. She may not like it, but she got it.

You're no good to anyone if you're dead.

Her hands trembled from the adrenaline, pain, and fear as she fought to open the kit's zippered pouch. Thankfully, her training took over, and she somehow found the strength to push it all aside and focus on the task at hand.

Stop the bleeding. Get to your people.

It became her mantra as she worked the zipper with one hand while simultaneously keeping her Sig Sauer at the ready with the other.

Applying the tourniquet would've been a hell of a lot easier with two hands. Of course, it also didn't help that her focus was being pulled between treating her wound and keeping the tangos who wanted her dead at bay.

As if appearing out of thin air, a man came running toward Raegan from her left. He was shouting something in Arabic, and when he spotted her, the barrel of his automatic rifle swung in her direction.

Like before, Raegan didn't hesitate to eliminate the threat. She simply pointed her pistol and pulled the trigger.

Double tap, single.

And just like the asshole before him, her would-be killer dropped to the dirt a dead man.

Later, she'd allow herself a minute to process the fact that she'd just killed four human beings. But not now. Not while she was still at risk of bleeding out while a group of terrorist assholes tried to destroy them all.

Come on. Come on. Come on!

After what felt like forever, she finally got the lifesaving device in place. Sweat from both the hellish weather and fiery pain poured down her temples, nose, and back.

Nausea swished and swirled deep in her gut, and the temptation to rest was great. But her need to get to her friends outweighed it all.

Aaaand…I'd kinda like to live to see twenty-six.

Using her free hand to keep her balance, Raegan pushed herself up to her one good foot. She put her right foot down, using a tentative step to test out the use of that leg.

A breath hissed through her teeth, and she drew her foot back up with a gasp. Her non-gun-wielding fist clenched tightly around the edge of whatever part of the mangled truck she was holding, and then…with two slow, steeling breaths…Raegan tried putting weight on that leg again.

And again.

And again.

Don't give up, Rae. They need you! Never. Give. Up!

More determined than ever, she ignored the breath-stealing inferno engulfing her right thigh and took that first real step. Over and over, as she kept her eyes open for the first sign of threats, Raegan made her way closer to where her friends should have been.

Halfway there, her leg buckled, and she went down to her good knee. Small rocks dug into her fatigue-covered skin as she pushed herself back to her feet.

Have to find cover. Can't be out in the open.

She scanned what was left of this side of the building. Part of the left corner and roof was still intact, but a massive pile of rubble filled the gaping hole.

You can't get in from here. You'll have to go around.

Disappointment nearly crushed her, but quitting wasn't in Raegan's DNA. With her eyes peeled and her pistol ready to fire, she moved as quickly as she could toward the nearest corner of the crumbling building.

She was almost there when she heard a man's voice. A familiar voice. And one she instinctively knew meant trouble.

"Drop the weapon…Lieutenant."

Her uneven steps faltered as she came to a terrifying halt. If she dropped her gun, she was dead. But knowing who had given the order, Raegan had no doubt the man had a weapon of his own.

With no other choice, she let her gun fall to the ground.

"Turn around," he ordered next.

She did as she was told and turned to face Samer. The man's hardened face was as smug as she'd ever seen it, and his Tabuk sniper rifle was pointing straight at the center of her chest.

The vest Raegan wore was lined with Kevlar, but there was no way to know if the ammo in the asshole's gun was capable of piercing metal.

"Samer." She met his cold, calculating stare. Letting her gaze drop to the weapon in his hands, she was tempted to critique his hold. However, her desire to not die today trumped the temptation, and instead, Raegan went with a simple, "Why am I not surprised?"

More shouting, gunfire, grunts, and cries of pain filled the hot, thick air. Through her comms, she could hear Chief Tupper order all those believed to have been in the building to respond. Seconds passed with nothing but silence, diminishing her hope that any of them made it out alive.

Joe's panicked words came next, and it was obvious he was scared as hell as he relayed his need for more ammo. And Valarie…

Come on Val. At least let me hear your voice so I know you're okay.

Raegan wanted to call for them, too. Her fingers twitched with the urge to reach for her comms and let Chief and the others know she was still with them.

But she couldn't.

One wrong move—slow or otherwise—and Samer would shoot her right where she stood. As it was, she didn't understand what he was waiting for. Not when the guy looked as if he wanted nothing more in this world than to pull that trigger.

And here I held in so many clever remarks with this asshole. What a waste of good sarcasm that was.

Her punchy thoughts should probably be cause for concern, but Raegan was more worried about the man's intent than her witty inner voice.

"You are injured and unarmed." Samer glanced down at her wounded leg with a shake of his head. "Unfortunate for you, but I suppose this is just further proof that women do not belong in the military." He brought his brown eyes back up to hers with an added, "Especially entitled American bitches like you."

Entitled?

Now that just hurt. She wasn't entitled. Sure, she spoke the truth and didn't really care what other people thought of her.

But Raegan was kind to others, she respected her elders, and did all the other stuff a decent human being should do. And since this guy was going to kill her any minute now anyway…

"It's cute you think I'm entitled just because I can handle my business better than you."

"Better?" Samer threw his head back and laughed. "You must have lost more blood than I thought. I am not the one with the bullet hole in my leg. And, as you can see, I have the upper hand. Therefore, I am the smarter, better soldier."

Not in this or any other lifetime, you jackass.

He shifted his hold on his weapon, so the barrel now pointed at her head.

Please. God. Please don't let this be it.

She wasn't ready to die. She still had too much living to do.

If I make it out of this, I swear I'll do better at enjoying life a little more. I'll date. I'll even find a guy and do the whole picket fence thing. Just…please don't let this be all there was to my life.

As if God Himself had answered her prayer, the telltale thump, thump, thump of an incoming chopper joined the current soundtrack of war. It may not be soon enough to save her, but at least Chief Tupper and the others still had a chance.

They were the ones with people waiting for them back home. Raegan had no one to miss her when she was gone. So, while she may not be anywhere near ready for her life to be over, if it meant letting her friends see their loved ones again, it was worth it.

Maybe this is it. Maybe this is your purpose.

Maybe her whole life had come down to this very moment, and her end goal was to distract this piece of shit terrorist so he couldn't hurt anyone else. And if she was lucky, and the air strike came soon enough, Samer would be sent to hell right along with her.

You're not going to hell, baby girl. You're coming home to me.

A sense of peace and acceptance she'd never known fell over her as Raegan's pain-stricken mind conjured up her mother's sweet voice.

The low humming of the chopper grew louder. Samer gave a quick glance toward the sky. "A transport helicopter," he commented smugly before returning his gaze to hers. With a smirk she wanted to punch right off his face, the prick taunted her with a cocky, "What? You thought someone was coming to rescue you?"

Samer threw his head back in a full-belly laugh, even shutting his eyes in a dramatic show of condescending humor.

But what the ignorant man didn't know was he'd just given Raegan the exact chance she'd been praying for. When he'd broken eye contact all the other times, the undercover terrorist had only looked away for a split second or two. Not nearly enough time to make a move without being noticed.

But now…

She reached for her backup pistol. The one she kept in a concealed holster at her hip.

"Sorry to burst that pathetic bubble you must live in…" Samer began to reopen his eyes. "But?—"

Raegan slid the gun from its holster. She pointed the barrel at the man's head, and then…

The helicopter Samer thought was merely a supply run released a barrage of gunfire on the enemy. A cloud of dust swirled up and around them, impeding the vision of everyone in its path.

Doing her best to keep a clear line of sight, she made the moment count as best she could and pulled the trigger. Samer's entire body jerked from her bullet's impact, and though she couldn't see where it had struck, she did see him fall.

Who's the better soldier now, asshole?

The chopper flew back over again, this time, from the opposite direction. A few more shots rang out, and then…it was over.

No more bombs. No more screams. Not a single weapon was fired.

It was the most deafening silence Raegan had ever heard. And it was the last thing she remembered before her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she fell to the ground below.