Page 31 of Duty Devoted
I set a punishing pace along the packed earth, grateful for the clear path after our earlier trek through dense undergrowth. Lauren kept up without complaint, her longer stride working to her advantage on the smoother terrain. Behind us, the villagesounds faded into the distance, replaced by the whisper of wind through trees and the distant rumble of approaching storm.
Part of me was furious at the unnecessary risk we’d just taken. Deviating from extraction protocols for a medical emergency was exactly the kind of mission creep that got people killed. We’d compromised our timeline, separated from the team, and potentially alerted Silva forces to our location—all for one patient.
But watching Lauren work—the steady competence as she’d repositioned that baby, the calm way she’d reassured a terrified nineteen-year-old—I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. She’d saved two lives back there, and she’d done it knowing the cost. That took a special kind of courage.
“How much farther?” she asked as we maintained our steady pace down the road.
“About a klick. We’re making good time.”
That was mostly true. The clear road surface was allowing us to move much faster than I’d anticipated, and Lauren’s endurance was proving better than expected. If we maintained this pace, we’d reach the extraction point with minutes to spare.
Through the trees ahead, I could hear the distant thrum of helicopter rotors—our ride was on station and waiting.
Relief started to build in my chest. We were going to make it.
“Almost there,” I told Lauren as we reached the edge of the tree line. “Five more minutes on that road and we’re?—”
The rumble of engines cut through the jungle noise like a buzz saw. Multiple vehicles, moving fast, coming up the same dirt road we needed to use.
“Down!” I grabbed Lauren’s arm and pulled her back into the undergrowth just as the first black SUV rounded the bend. “Stay low.”
My radio was already in my hand. “Citadel Two, this is Citadel One. You’ve got company inbound on the access road. Multiple vehicles, armed personnel.”
“Copy that, One. We see them. Three SUVs, approximately fifteen hostiles.”
A second SUV followed, then a third—Silva forces moving with purpose toward our extraction point. They knew exactly where they were going.
“How did they—” Lauren started.
“Doesn’t matter now. No secrets in a small town.” I pulled her deeper into the vegetation as the vehicles passed our position. The SUVs kicked up clouds of dust as always, and through the windows, I caught glimpses of assault rifles and tactical gear. Even a small force would be enough to compromise the extraction.
In dragging her away from the road, I’d ended up pressed against Lauren’s back, my arms wrapped around her to keep her steady as we crouched behind a cluster of broad-leafed plants. I could feel the rapid beat of her heart against my chest, smell the faint scent of the local soap and antiseptic mixed with jungle humidity.
For a moment that lasted too long, I was acutely aware of how she fit against me—the curve of her shoulder blade against my ribs, the way her breathing had synchronized with mine. The tactical situation demanded complete focus, but some primitive part of my brain was cataloging the feel of her warmth pressed close to me.
I forced the awareness away with practiced discipline. Lauren’s life depended on my ability to think clearly, not on whatever hormonal responses her proximity was triggering.
“Are they gone?” she whispered.
I listened for a moment, tracking the sound of engines as they continued toward the landing zone. “For now. But they’re heading straight for our helicopter.”
The reality of the situation sharpened my focus. Silva’s forces would reach the extraction point before we could, which meant my team was about to be caught in a coordinated ambush with limited defensive positions.
I guided Lauren back onto the road, and we started running. The dirt surface was easier going than the jungle terrain, but every step took us closer to a firefight we were too late to prevent.
My radio crackled. “Citadel One, hostiles are setting up positions around our landing zone. Looks like maybe eight to ten personnel. ETA from your position?”
“Six minutes if we push it.”
Six minutes. I could hear it in Tyler’s voice—they’d already done the math and knew we wouldn’t make it in time. “Shit. Logan…”
“You guys need to just leave. You can’t risk waiting for them to attack.”
“They’re signaling to shut off the engine.” Tyler’s voice carried new tension.
“Under no circumstances do you shut down that engine. Get airborne before they can close the distance.”
“What about you and Lauren?”
