Never Fear by Heather Graham

Iraqi. “ Get her and the
kids up. We need to get them counted and out of
here .”
    “ You got it,
boss.”
    The foreigner lowered his weapon and
shut off the light on his helmet. Spots filled Sabra’s vision. She
blinked to push them from her vision. She looked up at the
foreigner. He was taller than anyone she had ever met. A red beard
spilled over the chinstrap of his helmet, and calm, blue eyes
greeted her from behind a pair of clear protective
glasses.
    “ It’s
okay ,” he said. “ You’re safe now. ” Sabra nodded,
having no idea what he had just said.
     
    *
     
    Baz held the smallest child’s hand,
leading them from the room, with the woman bringing up the rear of
the hand-holding train. Sergeant First Class Emerett finished
checking the room and turned to the door when he saw two children
still sat in the corner. The boy shook and clung to the girl. She
stared up at him. He could not tell if the look was one of
suspicion or wonderment.
    “ Come on you two, we have
to get going. You don’t want to stay here.” He picked the boy up
and released his rifle to take the girl’s hand. They were the same
ages as his two children back home, so he already had plenty of
practice juggling squirming masses their size. These two were much
lighter though, which told Emerett all he needed about their
hunger.
    He fell in behind Baz’s trail of
children, and they halted at the building’s entrance. He released
the girl’s hand for a moment, hoping she would not run off, to
press the button on his radio’s push-to-talk.
    “ Em and Baz are coming out
with six civilians. Still taking them to Viper 55?”
    “ Roger, Em, Viper 55 is
the transport bird. Objective is secure, so you’re good to move,” a
voice answered in his earpiece.
    “ Copy that, Broadsword 6.
We’re on the move. Let’s go, Baz.”
    His Kurdish teammate led the way
through the courtyard and out the east gate to where the Blackhawk
helicopter had landed after they fast-roped into the courtyard. Baz
stopped at the door and gave instructions to the children and woman
to make sure none of them wandered off and lost their heads to the
tail rotor. Then he gave Emerett a nod and ran headlong to the
waiting Blackhawk.
    Baz grabbed the children and handed
them off to the door gunners. He instructed the woman to make sure
the children stay seated or else they might fall out. He relieved
Emerett of his two burdens and they both hopped in and hooked in
their safety tethers to keep from falling out themselves. A minute
later, the crew chief gave the pilots a thumbs-up and the
helicopter lifted off the ground and turned east.
    Despite the winter night being cold
enough to freeze the water in his CamelBak’s drinking tube, the
short operation had him sweating. The years in Group had not been
kind, and moving fast while carrying heavy loads was not as easy as
when he had tried out for Selection the first time. Emerett rolled
his sleeves up to his elbows, as much to let a draft in as to get
that “operator” look.
    The girl he had carried crawled over
to him despite the woman’s rebukes. She grabbed his hand and pulled
his arm to her, studying the crucifix tattoo on his right forearm.
She looked up, delighted, and said a few words while pointing to
herself and the boy he had carried.
    Emerett could not hear her over the
engine noise and would not have understood what she said anyways.
He spoke Tagalog and Pashtu and the little Arabic he did know was
of little use.
    Baz saw his predicament and scooted
over to the girl, leaning in close so she could hear him. The girl
shook her head and cupped a hand against Baz’s ear. He nodded and
pressed his push-to-talk.
    “ She is Chaldean, a
Christian. She likes your tattoo,” Baz said. Emerett gave the girl
a nod and she turned back to Baz. Baz nodded, but the smile waned
from his face. He paused for a moment before
translating.
    “ They killed her whole
family. The little boy is her brother and they are all that