move parallel through the jungle until they reached the Land Cruisers and could safely pop out. Should they make a break for it together and try to run up the road, or should Harvath make his stand here while Decker made a break for it alone?
By his count, he had two fully loaded Glock mags, in addition to what was already in his weapon, plus the two mags that would be with the AK-47. He also had the hand grenade. But that would only work if he could bottle the soldiers up. If they were spread throughout the jungle, it would be far less effective.
And where there was one grenade, there were going to be more. Once they began to close in on him, what would stop them from using them? If the coast was clear, he decided he’d take his chances with Decker on the road. They could always cut back into the jungle if they had to. He would use the last AK to buy them a few more precious seconds.
As they got to the last marker, their lungs heaving for air, he lunged for the weapon, but it was gone.
CHAPTER 7
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B efore Harvath could warn Decker to stop, the man had grabbed her. It was the same Congolese rebel who had escorted her into the jungle in the first place. He stood behind her, his left arm wrapped around her throat. His right hand held the pistol-style grip of his AK-47. His finger was curled around the trigger. The muzzle of the weapon was pressed into her back. The other AK-47 hung from the man’s shoulder.
Harvath thought about his options. None of them were good. He didn’t have a clean shot. The only thing he could do was save himself. The word that rhymed with truck popped back into his mind as he raised his Glock.
“Drop your gun!” the rebel ordered. “Drop your gun! I kill the woman! I kill her!”
Decker’s face was twisted in a mask of fear. Her eyes riveted on Harvath, silently imploring him not to let her die.
“If you kill her, I am going to kill you. Do you understand me?”
“Drop your gun! I kill her! I kill her now !” the soldier yelled.
Harvath adjusted his weapon, trying to get the best sight picture possible. “I am going to count to ten. If you do not let her go, I am going to kill you .”
“Please,” Decker cried.
“Stop moving,” Harvath warned her.
“I kill her!”
Harvath ignored him. “One. Two. Thr—”
Mick’s suppressed round entered the rebel’s skull just behind his left ear. It was like throwing a circuit breaker. Instant blackout. The man was dead before his body hit the ground.
Decker, who hadn’t seen the Brit step out of the shadows behind her and take the shot, had no idea what had happened. All she knew was that the man had been there, his body pressed hard against hers, and then he was gone.
When she turned and saw the man standing there, wearing night vision goggles and the same voice-activated bone microphone in his ear as Harvath, she put it together. Even if she had known what to say, she wasn’t able to speak. Shock was quickly overtaking her.
Bullets from the rebels approaching from up the path were now popping and zinging all around them. Vegetation was being shredded.
“Time to move,” Harvath ordered.
Mick handed him the soldier’s AK-47 and kept the one with the duct-taped double magazine. “You go,” he shouted. “I’ll lay down suppression.”
Harvath flashed him the thumbs-up and got Decker moving as fast as he could back to the road.
Five meters before the path ended, he knocked her to the ground and covered her body with his.
The booming of a heavy, crew-served weapon was discernable even above the AK fire happening behind them. It sounded like a .50-caliber machine gun, and it was coming from out on the road.
At first, Harvath thought that the rebels had called in the weapon to shoot at him. Then he heard Ash and the Brute Squad over the radio report that they were pinned down and taking serious fire from it.
Rolling off of Decker, he held the AK-47 up and asked, “Do you know how to use this?”
She stared blankly
Learning to Kill: Stories