stop the
round from being fired. All he could do was watch in horror.
The
round hit the helicopter above them. It jerked, then exploded in a ball of
flaming aviation fuel, rotor blades flying loose, doors, skids and the fuselage
breaking apart, flung across the sky like a broken toy.
Tuck's
heart stopped in that second and he ducked his head, praying it wasn't
Delaney's helicopter. "Dear God," he said. "Dear God."
The
bulk of the craft crashed to the earth, the flames reaching toward the sky. The
second helicopter flew in—low, fast, and deadly—firing everything it had at the
men on the other side of the field.
When
the machine guns attached to its belly ran out of bullets, the helicopter
launched the rockets, the pilot expending every last bit of ammo. Then the
craft turned back toward the town and landed near to the spot where Team Alpha
had taken cover.
Team
Bravo emerged from the walls of the village, two men flanking two others
helping a third between them.
Tuck
rose, and with Big Bird's help, carried Reaper to the waiting helicopter. With
the door gunners providing suppression fire, the teams made it to the Black
Hawk. Tuck and Big Bird laid Reaper on the floor. The others piled into the
craft around him, hanging onto whatever they could find.
Tuck
turned to Fish, the team corpsman. "Take care of him." Then he ducked
back out of the chopper, followed by Big Bird, Gator, and two of Team Bravo's
men. They scoured the area around the downed helicopter, careful not to provide
a target for the Taliban. They found one of the door gunners lying among the
poppies, the others appeared to have burned in the fire. Big Bird and Tuck
carried the dead door gunner back to the waiting helicopter and loaded him next
to Reaper.
"Let's
go!" One of the door gunners yelled.
The
helicopter, near its maximum load capacity, lurched from the ground and into
the air.
Tuck
bent over Reaper and shined his flashlight into his teammate's face.
He
was deathly pale, all the color seeming to have leached out of his lips and he
wasn't moving at all.
"Is
he...?"
Fish
shook his head and spoke loud enough to be heard over the rotors. "He's
hanging on, but he's lost a lot of blood. You did good by applying the
tourniquet when you did, or he would have bled out."
Out
of the path of danger, without bullets flying past him, Tuck had time for the
entire event to process. The building had been empty and set with a trip wire.
If he hadn't stopped to read the writing on the wall, he'd have been the first
one through the door. He would be the one lying there with his arm dangling
uselessly, the muscles ground into hamburger meat.
He
glanced at the back of the pilot's head. He couldn't reach her with the crowd
of men aboard. Instead, he reached out to touch a door gunner's arm. "Who's
flying this bird?"
The
gunner's mouth was set in a grim line. "Captain..." The craft dipped
and the gunner lurched, braced his hand on the inside wall and righted himself.
Tuck
held his breath and waited for the man to finish, his heart in his throat, his
stomach a massive knot.
"O'Connell,"
he finished. "Razor."
The
air left his lungs in a whoosh and he slumped over Reaper. They'd lost an
entire helicopter crew tonight. If they didn't get Reaper to a surgeon
quickly...
Bullshit.
They weren't losing Reaper, too. Tuck helped Fish stabilize the wounded arm,
check Reaper 's other injuries, and establish an I.V. of fluids to replace some
of what he'd lost.
Then
Tuck prayed to God to spare his friend.
Chapter Six
Delaney's
hands were steady on the controls as she'd fired on the enemy. She couldn't
think about the burning ruins of the other helicopter. The SEALs’ lives
depended on her keeping a cool head. One thing at a time. Kill the enemy, then
get the men back to safety.
"Take
that, you sons of a bitches," she muttered, the aircraft shuddering with
the force of the machine gunfire and rockets launching.
"We got it from here," Mac, her senior gunner said,
round from being fired. All he could do was watch in horror.
The
round hit the helicopter above them. It jerked, then exploded in a ball of
flaming aviation fuel, rotor blades flying loose, doors, skids and the fuselage
breaking apart, flung across the sky like a broken toy.
Tuck's
heart stopped in that second and he ducked his head, praying it wasn't
Delaney's helicopter. "Dear God," he said. "Dear God."
The
bulk of the craft crashed to the earth, the flames reaching toward the sky. The
second helicopter flew in—low, fast, and deadly—firing everything it had at the
men on the other side of the field.
When
the machine guns attached to its belly ran out of bullets, the helicopter
launched the rockets, the pilot expending every last bit of ammo. Then the
craft turned back toward the town and landed near to the spot where Team Alpha
had taken cover.
Team
Bravo emerged from the walls of the village, two men flanking two others
helping a third between them.
Tuck
rose, and with Big Bird's help, carried Reaper to the waiting helicopter. With
the door gunners providing suppression fire, the teams made it to the Black
Hawk. Tuck and Big Bird laid Reaper on the floor. The others piled into the
craft around him, hanging onto whatever they could find.
Tuck
turned to Fish, the team corpsman. "Take care of him." Then he ducked
back out of the chopper, followed by Big Bird, Gator, and two of Team Bravo's
men. They scoured the area around the downed helicopter, careful not to provide
a target for the Taliban. They found one of the door gunners lying among the
poppies, the others appeared to have burned in the fire. Big Bird and Tuck
carried the dead door gunner back to the waiting helicopter and loaded him next
to Reaper.
"Let's
go!" One of the door gunners yelled.
The
helicopter, near its maximum load capacity, lurched from the ground and into
the air.
Tuck
bent over Reaper and shined his flashlight into his teammate's face.
He
was deathly pale, all the color seeming to have leached out of his lips and he
wasn't moving at all.
"Is
he...?"
Fish
shook his head and spoke loud enough to be heard over the rotors. "He's
hanging on, but he's lost a lot of blood. You did good by applying the
tourniquet when you did, or he would have bled out."
Out
of the path of danger, without bullets flying past him, Tuck had time for the
entire event to process. The building had been empty and set with a trip wire.
If he hadn't stopped to read the writing on the wall, he'd have been the first
one through the door. He would be the one lying there with his arm dangling
uselessly, the muscles ground into hamburger meat.
He
glanced at the back of the pilot's head. He couldn't reach her with the crowd
of men aboard. Instead, he reached out to touch a door gunner's arm. "Who's
flying this bird?"
The
gunner's mouth was set in a grim line. "Captain..." The craft dipped
and the gunner lurched, braced his hand on the inside wall and righted himself.
Tuck
held his breath and waited for the man to finish, his heart in his throat, his
stomach a massive knot.
"O'Connell,"
he finished. "Razor."
The
air left his lungs in a whoosh and he slumped over Reaper. They'd lost an
entire helicopter crew tonight. If they didn't get Reaper to a surgeon
quickly...
Bullshit.
They weren't losing Reaper, too. Tuck helped Fish stabilize the wounded arm,
check Reaper 's other injuries, and establish an I.V. of fluids to replace some
of what he'd lost.
Then
Tuck prayed to God to spare his friend.
Chapter Six
Delaney's
hands were steady on the controls as she'd fired on the enemy. She couldn't
think about the burning ruins of the other helicopter. The SEALs’ lives
depended on her keeping a cool head. One thing at a time. Kill the enemy, then
get the men back to safety.
"Take
that, you sons of a bitches," she muttered, the aircraft shuddering with
the force of the machine gunfire and rockets launching.
"We got it from here," Mac, her senior gunner said,
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