Читать книгу Navy SEAL Security - Carol Ericson - Страница 8

Jack Coburn could think of about a thousand tastes more pleasant than his own blood—so he spit it out. The behemoth facing him sneered and readied his ham-hock fists for another round of punch-the-stupid-American. Lurch had to be the biggest Afghan Jack had ever seen in his life, and he’d seen plenty.

Jack hadn’t escaped his captivity from a small, airless tent to be thwarted here. He dug his boots into the dirt outside the cave and tensed his muscles. If he could take care of Lurch and drag his body into the scrubby bushes that clung to the side of the mountain, he could get back to eavesdropping on the conversation in the cave.

And if he’d correctly heard the name they’d dropped in there just before Lurch materialized, he had to listen in on the rest of that discussion. His life depended on it, as did the lives of his brothers in arms—the whole gang from Prospero.

Lurch charged forward, and Jack met his assault with a kick to the substantial gut. Lurch staggered back, emitting a guttural cry from his throat. The howl unleashed several pairs of footsteps from the front of the cave, and Jack spun around to meet his adversaries.

The Afghans gathered in a semicircle around Jack and, as he waited for the gunshots, a muscle ticking wildly in his jaw, he whispered, “Bring it on.”

The men closed in on him and the stench of their sweat permeated his nostrils. Or was it his own sweat?

Still, not one of the fierce mujahideen raised a weapon. Licking his lips, Jack took two steps back to the edge of the cliff and glanced over his shoulder at the outcroppings that dotted the long way down to the village where he’d been staying. Would his young friend, Yasir, be looking for him?

The leader of the group brandished his sword. He growled in the Darwazi dialect, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

Jack pretended not to understand the man’s words. He spread his hands and smiled, nodding like a fool and taking another step toward the precipice.

Even if they believed him to be harmless, they’d never let him live. And once they compared notes with their brethren, the men who’d captured him two days ago, they’d torture him for information.

If he had to die sooner rather than later, he’d prefer to die swiftly and while in control of his own destiny.

So he stepped off the ledge and into the dark abyss. Before he hit the vicious rocks below, one thought pierced his brain.

Sorry I failed you, Lola. Whoever you are.