The men didn’t speak.
Sydney did. “Gunner, can you close your eyes?”
Because she must have on a covering just like his. She’d be able to see a little bit, just as he could. And Sydney didn’t want him seeing her die.
“Yes,” he said, even as he kept his eyes wide open. This wasn’t happening. He wouldn’t let it happen. Not to her.
He yanked on the rope that bound his wrists. Felt it give way. Just. In. Time.
“Thank you,” Sydney said softly. “And, Gunner, I—”
An explosion rocked the tent, and Gunner’s chair fell to the side. He yanked out with his hands, shattering the chair legs and pulling free from the ropes that bound his legs.
Voices were crying out. Yelling. And more explosions—they sounded like thunder, but he could feel the heat from the blasts—blasted through the camp. Footsteps pounded out of the room. More shouts.
More fire. He could smell the acrid scent.
“Sydney!”
He yanked the sack off his head and rushed to her. She’d fallen back, too, and, at first, he didn’t think she was moving at all. Had they killed her before the explosion? Had that sick jerk with the knife hurt her?
But then she groaned, and he saw her hands come up. She’d worked her wrists free, too. Of course she had. That was his Sydney.
He clawed away the ropes that bound her feet and jerked that sack from over her eyes. With his breath heaving, he stared down at her, desperately looking for blood.
Her eyes were wide and bright. As always, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He wanted to kiss her so badly that he ached.
Slade’s alive.
He swallowed and pulled Sydney to her feet. “What the hell were you doing?” Gunner demanded. “I wanted their attention on me.”
She blinked, and some of the brightness seemed to leave her gaze. “Sorry, I was just doing my part to keep you breathing.” She bent down and picked up a sharp chunk of wood, one of the remnants from her chair’s legs. “You’re welcome.”
His hold on her left wrist tightened. “Next time, try to keep yourself alive instead.” Because to him, she was the priority.
Gunfire burst out into the night then, firing with a rat-a-tat that was too familiar to him. “Our backup is here.” Just in time. He’d have to thank Cale and Logan with a round of beer later.
After they all got out of that jungle.
First order of business...get better weapons. That wood of Sydney’s wouldn’t last long. They’d get weapons, then hurry out there to provide support to the other EOD agents.
Moving like shadows, he and Sydney slid to the front of their tent. Their guards were gone. From what Gunner could see, chaos had taken over the camp. Men were running everywhere, shooting wildly.
Cale wouldn’t be positioned close, and those shots being fired so wildly from the rebels wouldn’t hit him. The guy was a sniper, too. Not ex-SEAL like Gunner, but a Ranger sniper who’d survived some of the deadliest places on earth.
Cale’s shots were deliberate, timed perfectly. Gunner realized that the explosions had been his handiwork, too. Cale knew far too much about demolitions.
Gunner scanned the area and found his target. Fifteen feet away. The man who was holding up his gun and staring into the jungle, not even glancing around to cover his back.
“I’ve got you,” Sydney said. “Go ahead.”
She’d be covering Gunner’s back. He knew he could count on her.
He might be a sniper, but he could still handle up close combat just fine. He’d learned those fighting techniques long before he’d let Uncle Sam talk him into being all he could be.
Gunner rushed silently forward. His target never had a chance to fight him, much less to fire his weapon. Gunner swiped out with his hands, an attack designed to take out his opponent, and before the man’s body fell, Gunner had the fellow’s gun in his hand.
One weapon down.
He looked up, saw that Sydney was close. She gave him a grim nod.
Just then one of the guards ran out of another tent, screaming and aiming his gun at her head.
No. Gunner lifted his gun instantly. Sydney must have read the danger in his eyes because she dropped to the ground, giving him the perfect shot.
But as he fired, another blast thundered.
Two bullets hit the guard, stopping his attack.
Cale? Probably. The other sniper was doing his job and making sure they got out of there alive.
Sydney didn’t stand. Instead, she crawled quickly toward the downed man and took his weapon.
Now that they were both better armed, it was time to search. Because they weren’t running out of that camp, weren’t fleeing. They’d come there for a reason.
Find the hostage. They’d complete their mission.
We’re coming, Slade.
Most of the rebels were fleeing. Some jumped into old trucks; others just ran into the jungle. The explosions had scared them. It looked as though they weren’t quite up for trading their lives for their cause.
The more of them that left, well, the easier the EOD’s mission became. He and Sydney searched the tents, one after the other. Deserted. Burning. No sign of Slade.
But he had to be there.
Or...maybe he was close by. Just through the patch of jungle on the right, Gunner could see the outline of old stones. Big, sprawling, the structure looked like some kind of deserted temple.
Sydney was already nodding, because she’d spotted the structure, too. Gunfire erupted behind Gunner, and he turned, firing back. “Go!” he ordered Sydney. If Slade was out there, they had to get to him. He could be hurt, dying...
Gunner saw Logan appear, and the team leader joined the firefight. Sydney rushed toward the temple.
The bullets kept coming. A lucky shot grazed Gunner’s left arm, and he clenched his teeth at the flash of pain.
Then he took aim at the men coming for him.
Chapter Four
Sydney’s heartbeat echoed in her ears as she ran toward the narrow entrance to what she could only guess was some kind of crumbling temple. Giant slabs of white rock were turned, forming the sloping entrance. But...there was light coming from inside that temple. And where there was light...
Sydney lifted her gun and went in low. She didn’t know what kind of angry reception she’d find waiting for her, but she had to do this search and get back to help Gunner. She had to—
A man was tied to a chair, bound, the way she’d been moments before. He looked like the same man she’d seen in the jungle, because he was wearing that same brown sack over his head. A lantern sat near his feet, revealing his old, ragged pants.