he'd been holding, and tapped
Reaper's face. "Hey, buddy. Wake up."
Reaper
didn't budge.
Bracing
his hand on the ground, Tuck tried to stand. His leg was pinned by another
beam. He twisted around and shoved the debris to the side before wiggling his
foot. It hurt, but he thought he could stand. The main thing was to get Reaper
out and back to the helicopter.
A
mortar exploded close by, sending out a spray of more debris, the explosion
reverberating in Tuck's already numb ears. If they wanted to get out alive, he
had to move, now. The whole situation stunk of setup.
"Tuck?"
Big Bird leaned into the building. "Tuck?"
"I'm
here."
"You
okay?"
"Yeah.
But Reaper's down."
"Alive?"
"For
now."
"We're
taking rounds and mortars. Team Bravo was hit hard. Two dead, the other three
heading back to the LZ."
"Fish
and Gator?" Tuck asked, afraid of the answer.
"Injured
but mobile. Need help getting out Reaper?"
"I'm
not sure what injuries he sustained." Tuck pushed against the ground in an
attempt to stand. Where he planted his hand was warm and wet. "Holy shit.
Shine your light over here."
Big
Bird stepped over the debris and focused his light on the ground at Tuck's
feet. "Fuck."
Tuck
ripped off his belt and looped it around what was left of Reaper's right arm,
pulling it tight to stop the relentless flow of blood from his severed artery.
"We
gotta get him out of here."
"I
know. You go ahead of me. I'm right behind you."
"Tuck."
Reaper's eyes blinked open.
"Yeah,
buddy."
"Get
out of here."
"Not
without you."
"If
I die, take care of Delaney for me, will ya?"
Tuck's
throat closed up and his eyes stung. Whether from all the dust or the knowledge
his friend might not make it out alive, he didn't have time to debate.
Reaper
tried to lift his right arm, gave up, and caught Tuck with the left. "Promise."
Tuck
ground his teeth together, adrenaline coursing through him. "Bullshit on
all this talk about dying. You're making it out of here alive, so hang on."
He bent, grabbed Reaper's uninjured arm, and dragged him over his shoulder in a
fireman's carry. His ankle hurt like hell, but the injury was nothing compared
to what Reaper had suffered.
His
teammate grunted and then went completely limp, a deadweight hanging over Tuck,
unable to balance or help to steady Tuck's load. Well, damn it, he didn't need
help. He'd get him out if it was the last thing he did.
Stumbling
over the stones, bricks and debris, Tuck made it outside the building where Big
Bird was firing into the night.
"Go!"
Big Bird yelled. "I called for transport. They're on their way."
Tuck
ran through the alley, back the way they'd come, followed by the reassuring
sound of Big Bird's weapon firing behind him. Gator and Fish were pinned at a
corner, ducking around to fire in bursts.
As
Tuck neared, they left the corner and charged past the intersection of two
narrow streets.
Bullets
pinged off the sides of the mud-covered compound walls. Tuck kept running. He
had to get to the helicopter. If they could make the chopper, Reaper had half a
chance to live. "Hang on," he said to his friend, again and again,
like a mantra to cling to, getting him through the next few minutes.
Rushing
past the last building and out into the open field, Tuck felt something hit the
front of his leg, like a sharp sting. He ignored it and ran on.
The
familiar whopping sound of helicopter rotors gave him hope for Reaper. "Please
hurry."
"Tuck,
wait!" Big Bird ran to catch up to him, grabbed his arm, and forced him to
stop, pulling him to his knees. "Get down!"
Machine
gun and rifle fire filled the night and the sky over their heads.
Tuck
laid Reaper down, then covered his friend's body with his own.
A
Black Hawk swooped in, guns firing at the fields ahead of them.
It
was then that Tuck saw the silhouettes of men moving their way, carrying
weapons. One of them stopped and lifted an RPG to his shoulder.
"No."
Tuck couldn't leave Reaper to take out the Taliban man soon enough to
Reaper's face. "Hey, buddy. Wake up."
Reaper
didn't budge.
Bracing
his hand on the ground, Tuck tried to stand. His leg was pinned by another
beam. He twisted around and shoved the debris to the side before wiggling his
foot. It hurt, but he thought he could stand. The main thing was to get Reaper
out and back to the helicopter.
A
mortar exploded close by, sending out a spray of more debris, the explosion
reverberating in Tuck's already numb ears. If they wanted to get out alive, he
had to move, now. The whole situation stunk of setup.
"Tuck?"
Big Bird leaned into the building. "Tuck?"
"I'm
here."
"You
okay?"
"Yeah.
But Reaper's down."
"Alive?"
"For
now."
"We're
taking rounds and mortars. Team Bravo was hit hard. Two dead, the other three
heading back to the LZ."
"Fish
and Gator?" Tuck asked, afraid of the answer.
"Injured
but mobile. Need help getting out Reaper?"
"I'm
not sure what injuries he sustained." Tuck pushed against the ground in an
attempt to stand. Where he planted his hand was warm and wet. "Holy shit.
Shine your light over here."
Big
Bird stepped over the debris and focused his light on the ground at Tuck's
feet. "Fuck."
Tuck
ripped off his belt and looped it around what was left of Reaper's right arm,
pulling it tight to stop the relentless flow of blood from his severed artery.
"We
gotta get him out of here."
"I
know. You go ahead of me. I'm right behind you."
"Tuck."
Reaper's eyes blinked open.
"Yeah,
buddy."
"Get
out of here."
"Not
without you."
"If
I die, take care of Delaney for me, will ya?"
Tuck's
throat closed up and his eyes stung. Whether from all the dust or the knowledge
his friend might not make it out alive, he didn't have time to debate.
Reaper
tried to lift his right arm, gave up, and caught Tuck with the left. "Promise."
Tuck
ground his teeth together, adrenaline coursing through him. "Bullshit on
all this talk about dying. You're making it out of here alive, so hang on."
He bent, grabbed Reaper's uninjured arm, and dragged him over his shoulder in a
fireman's carry. His ankle hurt like hell, but the injury was nothing compared
to what Reaper had suffered.
His
teammate grunted and then went completely limp, a deadweight hanging over Tuck,
unable to balance or help to steady Tuck's load. Well, damn it, he didn't need
help. He'd get him out if it was the last thing he did.
Stumbling
over the stones, bricks and debris, Tuck made it outside the building where Big
Bird was firing into the night.
"Go!"
Big Bird yelled. "I called for transport. They're on their way."
Tuck
ran through the alley, back the way they'd come, followed by the reassuring
sound of Big Bird's weapon firing behind him. Gator and Fish were pinned at a
corner, ducking around to fire in bursts.
As
Tuck neared, they left the corner and charged past the intersection of two
narrow streets.
Bullets
pinged off the sides of the mud-covered compound walls. Tuck kept running. He
had to get to the helicopter. If they could make the chopper, Reaper had half a
chance to live. "Hang on," he said to his friend, again and again,
like a mantra to cling to, getting him through the next few minutes.
Rushing
past the last building and out into the open field, Tuck felt something hit the
front of his leg, like a sharp sting. He ignored it and ran on.
The
familiar whopping sound of helicopter rotors gave him hope for Reaper. "Please
hurry."
"Tuck,
wait!" Big Bird ran to catch up to him, grabbed his arm, and forced him to
stop, pulling him to his knees. "Get down!"
Machine
gun and rifle fire filled the night and the sky over their heads.
Tuck
laid Reaper down, then covered his friend's body with his own.
A
Black Hawk swooped in, guns firing at the fields ahead of them.
It
was then that Tuck saw the silhouettes of men moving their way, carrying
weapons. One of them stopped and lifted an RPG to his shoulder.
"No."
Tuck couldn't leave Reaper to take out the Taliban man soon enough to
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