Captured By The Mercenaries

CHAPTER2

Colby

“Clear,” Wilkes called as I swung my rifle up toward the rooftops above us, scanning for enemies.

Everyone filed into the building. There was a bunch of junk in here. Darkness was falling and the Apache notified our pilots that they had to return to base. There was another set of Apaches and Blackhawk on the way, though. We just had to wait for them.

Spreading out, we searched the building, meeting back in the middle.

“Twenty-minute ETA,” the Warrant Officer told me. The pilots weren’t a part of my team, but I was grateful for their calm natures. No one was panicking—except maybe me internally, but no one would ever know that—and that was a good thing. We couldn’t afford to lose control with enemies out there.

“Thanks.”

Wilkes and Rogers were up on the second story, in some windows, keeping watch. Whoever had taken a pot shot at us was probably going to come calling now that the Apache was gone.

I cozied up in my own window on the main floor to wait for our rescue. The seconds ticked by slowly. Sweat rolled down my spine. This God forsaken desert wasn’t cooling off yet despite the sun setting, and my adrenaline was riding high. It was a good thing since my head was aching and I most likely had a concussion. The heat made me uncomfortable enough that there was no chance of me drifting off. That and the likelihood of an impending attack.

The crack of rounds hitting the wall behind me broke me out of my thoughts.

Shit!I swung my rifle back and forth, looking through the scope. I couldn't see where the shots were coming from.

A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and Chas dragged me backward. “Upstairs,” he hissed into my ear. I rushed with him up the stairs to high ground.

We bellied down and peered over the edge. There was no wall that separated the upstairs loft area from below so it gave us an unobstructed view. I sucked in a quiet breath when twelve insurgents busted in the door and swarmed the room below us.

“Fuck,” Chas muttered and I echoed the sentiment.

We were vastly outnumbered. I glanced at my watch and saw we still had fifteen minutes before our back up got here.

Clicking the safety off my weapon, I gave him a long look. Silently, he nodded and we both aimed in and took out two targets below us. I was sure the firefight that resulted from it would star in my nightmares for years to come...if I lived that long.

* * *

I slammedmy back against the rear wall of the building, as I exchanged out my magazine. Wilkes and one of the pilots were covering as Chas, Rogers, and I topped off. It felt like we’d been exchanging fire with the insurgents below for an eternity. In reality it had only been a few minutes.

For some unknown reason, the enemy wasn’t advancing on us. They’d taken cover down below and it sort of felt like they were stalling. For what, I couldn’t be sure. They had to know we were doing the same because we had a fuck ton of fire power coming our way.

Maybe they did, too.The thought was grim and I shoved it away.

I let the bolt close on my rifle with a satisfying click. The sound of shattering glass from the window to my right made me flinch and I swung toward it.

There wasn’t time to scream, or level my rifle on the man dressed in all black who was standing there. Whoever he was, he definitely wasn’t one of my team members. He had on black BDU pants and black body armor that didn’t hide a massive barrel chest. There was no insignia anywhere on him to announce whose military he was working for. The lower half of his face was covered in a dark beard and even his eyes appeared black in the low lighting coming from the last rays of the setting sun.

Before I could do anything—other than register these facts—his massive arm looped around me, tugging me against his body and he dragged me out the window.

Now I did scream because we were falling. This asshole had just flung both of us out the window of a two story building! The wind rushed in my ears, preventing me from hearing what he said to me.

It took me a minute to realize he’d rappelled down the side of the building and we were now standing on the ground in a back alley.

My heart thundered in my chest. My eyes flicked to his. “Who the hell are you?” If he was working with the group downstairs he’d have just shot me and left me for dead. I realized at that moment I’d dropped my rifle in the fall. Glancing around, I tried to locate it, but darkness had finally fallen and I couldn’t make it out in the low light.

His response was deep, guttural, and in a completely foreign language. It had my eyes snapping back to his. Russian? I was pretty sure it was Russian. Maybe German?

I jerked away from him, intent on rushing back into the building, to my team.

His arm banded around me from behind and I tried to fight him. He was too strong. My brain finally registered that I may have dropped my rifle, but I still had my handgun. His hand clamped painfully hard over mine when I put it on my pistol holster.

“Het.” It sounded likeNet.