PROLOGUE
“Hey Sergeant Wood, what’s the first thing you’re gonna eat when you get stateside?”
Jason Wood rolled his head against the back of his seat to look at the new soldier, Tommy Quinn, who had just joined his team, sitting behind the driver. He had landed on the base two days ago, fresh from boot camp, smiling, shiny, and eager to point his gun at something that was moving. Jason wasn’t sure if it mattered what side that moving object was on so he resolved to keep this grunt under a tight leash until he was sure.
This was Jason’s seventh tour in Afghanistan and he was done with the same fun questions that always popped up when someone new joined their team. How long have you been in country? What is the first thing you will eat when you get home? How much pussy are you going to eat?
He remembered when he was a wet behind the ears private, and he asked his sergeant the same questions, but right now he was too tired to even pretend.
He faced forward again to look out the front window and his eyes scanned the horizon. There hadn’t been any insurgent activity in this region in months but his eyes were constantly looking for it. It was exhausting but he knew the second he let his guard down was when it would strike.
“Sarge doesn’t play those games, boot!” Jack called out to the new recruit as he shifted in the driving seat to look back at Quinn who was trying to get them talking. “Keep your eye on the western ridge, holler if you see anything.”
Jack Wilson smirked and glanced at Jason who returned an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgement then returned his eyes to the road. Jason mentally ticked through their task list and focused on what needed to be done. The time for frivolous questions was when they were back at base, sipping beers in front of a fire, not while they were on duty and most vulnerable.
He glanced over his shoulder at Jim Falcon, the gunner and though he could only see his legs he could tell he was focused by the stance of his feet and the miniscule movements of his torso as he scanned the road around them. Seb Larson, his right hand man, was sitting in the last seat, next to the boot and had his eyes peeled on the left side of the road but Jason could see the tiny curve of his lips that let him know Seb was amused by the boot’s attempts to get them talking.
He had gone through bootcamp with Seb and together they thought they were going to take over the world. Ten years later and countless deployments all over the world the only thing they had to show for their efforts was a trail of dead teammates in their wake. The latest of which was shipped home in a casket last week after deciding to swallow a bullet from his own gun while on night guard duty.
Jason felt his focus shift and he struggled to get it back on track to carry out the orders they were given. They had three water wells to inspect in three villages. Such simple mundane tasks that kept him, and his team, on edge for every kilometre they drove out of the base. This wasn’t the life he thought he would lead when he signed up, but it wasn’t one he could walk away from either.
“Two clicks out, sarge,” Jack declared and Jason noticed everyone, except the boot, braced themselves.
They drove into a small village and Jack strategically positioned the humvee for cover and a quick exit. Jason, Seb, and the boot climbed out and Jason stepped close to Quinn and nudged him with his elbow.
“Stick close, watch the crowds, watch for quick movement, and get my six.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jason moved towards the well where two women were pulling water up using the winch and rope that was suspended over the top. Seb walked beside him, his focus on the townsfolk who milled around the place barely taking notice of the US military vehicle that just disrupted their usual routine.
“Good morning,” Jason said, speaking pashto and nodding at the women while they lifted the bucket of water from the well and poured it into another container they had outside.
When he was first deployed he always tried to help them with the heavy lifting but quickly realised he shouldn’t interact with the women unless other men were around and gave him permission. He held back to give them the room they needed then watched them cart the heavy container away.
“You got the kit?” Jason asked Seb who pulled a small pouch from a pocket on the front of his vest.
“I’m always packing,” Seb said with a wide grin.
“Test the water quickly, I wanna get out of here.”
Seb chuckled as he opened the pouch and dipped a vial into the water that was in the bottom of the bucket. He put in a couple of small strips of paper then closed the lid and shook the vial.
“So, what are you going to eat when you get home?” Seb asked as he looked around the crowd and waited for the test to complete.
“Steak. Rare,” Jason said without hesitation.
“You always say that but I bet you just eat cornflakes,” Seb joked as he held the vial up and looked at the testing strips inside. “All clear.”
“Clear out,” Jason called and everyone seemed to heave a sigh of relief, except the boot who almost looked disappointed at the lack of a skirmish.
Jason vowed to talk to him when they got back to base and make sure he understood why they were here and who the enemy was. Based on the deep lines between his brows and the thin line of his lips, Quinn was likely to pull the trigger if a cat jumped out at him, and that was way too much paperwork for his afternoon Jason decided.
A few hours later with all waterwells checked and cleared, they were in the humvee on their way back to the base. The mood in the group was a little lighter but Jason still remained focused. Seb was telling a story about the dream he had a couple of nights ago where he was on stage with a ballet troupe. He described his panic when he realised he didn’t know how to dance and then more panic when he realised he was wearing a tutu. Everyone was laughing and even Jason cracked a smile.
Jack kept his hands on the wheel and the humvee moved at a steady pace but there was no time to react. At first it was a couple of rocks and a cloud of dust but the rockslide picked up rapidly. Pebbles and stones became rocks and boulders and before Jack could slam on the breaks or steer out of the way the humvee was hit on the side by a large boulder that sent it careening towards the edge of a ridge.
Jason braced one hand off the roof of the vehicle and the other held his gun across his chest. Gravity took over and the humvee rolled onto its side then roof and tumbled over the edge and rolled into a step ravine. Jason felt searing pain rip across his face and the groan and crunch of metal twisting and bending wasn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of screams as Jim, the gunner, got thrown out and everyone inside was tossed around until the vehicle came to a jarring stop against the bottom of the ravine.
For a moment it felt like everything had gone silent and Jason wondered if his ears had been burst by the crash then he realised his heartbeat thumping in his ears was drowning out all other noise.
His head was pounding and a sharp pain, accompanied by the warm wet sensation of blood flowing across his cheek told him he had been cut or sliced. He closed his eyes and took a quick mental scan of his body. He could move his toes and his fingers. He could roll his shoulders and clench his legs. He could inhale and exhale and other than the pain in his head he thought he was ok.
“Sound off!” he commanded and tried to move.
The humvee had landed on the passenger side. The front window was cracked and broken. The contents were strewn all over the place but he could hear movement around him so he knew at least someone was awake.
“Sound off!” he commanded again as he rolled onto all fours against the door which was against the ground.
“One.” The voice was muffled and low and the owner was clearly in pain.
Jason lifted his head and looked in the back to see Seb crumpled in the seat across the console that split the two seats and provided a foot well for the gunner. His neck was at a strange angle and Jason felt an ice cold bolt of fear slither down his spine and leave a trail of goosebumps behind.
“Sound off!” he called again, almost a wish for Seb to lift his head and speak but there was no movement.
“One,” came the voice again and Jason realised it was Quinn.”
“Can you move, boot?” Jason asked as he turned and tried to assess Jack who was driving and dangling from his seat, draped over the console that separated their sections.
“I think so.”
“Check Seb, see if you can get a pulse,” he ordered as he leaned over Jack and pushed his hand into his collar to find a pulse.
“I can’t find anything,” Quinn said.
“Keep trying.”
“He’s dead, sarge,” Quinn said and Jason seethed at the weakness he heard in the boot’s voice.
“Get out of the vee, Check on Falcon.”
“Sarge-”
“Get out of the humvee!” Jason ordered as he tried again to find a pulse on Jack but was quickly realising it was a futile effort. He looked back in time to see Quinn pull himself out of the gunner hole and Jason took stock of what happened.
The pain in his head was starting to take over and his hands were beginning to tremble as the shock wore off and the adrenaline kicked in. He lifted his hand up to the side of his head and dragged his fingers through the blood that was still flowing from a gash he could feel on the side of his face. A soft haze was starting to creep in from the edges of his vision and he knew he had to get out of the humvee if he had any hope of making it back to base.
He snatched the radio from the dash and pressed the button to call. There was a hiss and a crackle but no beeps of connection. He pressed the button again but still nothing.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he dropped the radio then climbed into the back and pulled a back up radio from the pocket behind the drivers seat. This one seemed to be intact so he grabbed it and shoved it in the side hole of his vest before he paused for a moment to check Seb’s pulse.
Even before he touched his friend he knew he was dead. But he still tried. His heart clenched when he didn’t find a pulse and he uttered a curse then climbed out of the vehicle. He scanned the horizon and quickly realised they were in a very vulnerable position.
He found Quinn crouched over Falcon but when he looked up he shook his head and moved away from the crumpled body.
“Take cover!” Jason yelled when he saw Quinn stand up and let his gun dangle off its strap by his side. “Jesus christ.”
Jason scrambled off the humvee and hurried over to a boulder then waved at Quinn to join him. Quinn walked over slowly and Jason started to worry he had been injured but when he got within arms reach and Jason pulled him down into cover Quinn looked up in surprise.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!” Jason demanded.
“What?”
“Didn’t they teach you about being a target in the field?”
“There is no one around,” Quinn said and he popped his head up to look over the boulder as if to make sure.
“Get down!” Jason hissed and he pulled him down to the ground with a fistful of his vest. “And stay down.”
Quinn fixed his helmet that was askew and grumbled as he sat on his ass with his feet planted on the ground and his gun against his chest.
Jason rolled his eyes and pulled the radio out of his vest. He turned it on and was relieved to hear it beep. He pressed the call button and held it up to his mouth. His energy was fading fast but he knew he had to hold on or neither of them would make it out of this.
“Cobra, Cobra, this is Chaos 5, over.”
“10-2 Chaos 5, go ahead, over.”
“Vehicle down, 10-40, over,” Jason said and released the call button.
“10-20 Chaos 5, over.”
“We’re uh…” Jason screwed his eyes shut and tried to remember the road they had been travelling on when the rockslide hit them. “Travelling due west, 8 clicks due north of Cobra, over.”
“We just crossed the bridge!” Quinn yelled and Jason waved a hand to shut him up but Quinn kept talking. “Qalai Merza Bridge.”
Jason released the call button on the radio handset and stared at Quin.
“Shut the fuck up, boot!” He whisper yelled. “Do you want to tell the whole fuckin taliban where we are?”
Quinn shook his head and slunk down on his ass a little further.
“10-4 Chaos 5. Black hawk en route, over.”
“10-4, Cobra, over and out.”
He dropped his hand and released a heavy breath. His whole body was aching and he was struggling to stay awake. The blood flow from his head wound wasn’t slowing down and his vision was blacking out. He scrubbed a gloved hand over his face and dug in a side pocket by his thigh for a bandage.
“You got padding?” Jason asked and Quinn looked at him and shook his head.
“No, I got nothing.”
Jason pulled out a small bandage and pressed it to the side of his face. When he pulled it away he was shocked by how dark the blood was but he didn’t dwell on it and pressed it to his face again.
“Helo will be coming from that direction,” Jason said and pointed two fingers in the direction towards the base. “Get your flare ready.”
“I don’t have a flare?”
“Jesus christ,” Jason muttered. “Go to the humvee, grab a flare.”
“Yes, sir,” Quinn said and he started to move but Jason pulled him back down and held him in front for a second.
“Be quick, keep your head down, and keep an eye out.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jason released him with a little push then got up on his feet and crouched behind the boulder so he could watch Quinn’s back as he raced to the vehicle. He leaned on his shoulder and his eyes scanned the road ahead but the blood loss was finally starting to claim him fully. His eyes were swimming, pain pounded in his head and he couldn’t focus on anything anymore.
He heard Quinn shouting then the unmistakable ping of gunfire hitting the metal of the humvee. Panic flooded his body and he whirled around in the direction he thought the insurgents were shooting from. Before his feet settled in his new position, his eyes closed over and everything went dark. He fell back and hit the ground, his last thought was for Quinn who he saw stick his head out of the humvee to see what the commotion was.
