Disillusionment burned in Geo’s gut. This was no innocent kid, but the guy tasked with shooting down any American helos rushing to help the SEALs.
Shaking his head, Geo pulled some flex-cuffs from his cargo pocket and bound the boy’s wrists together in front of him, then pulled him to his feet and shoved him over to Cade, who already had his med bag out.
“He’s got a chunk taken out of his arm,” he said briefly, leaving Cade to it while he headed back to collect the weaponry—no way would they leave it behind for someone else to use. In the same vein, the other guys were busy gathering up the dead men’s AK-47s, and they piled everything up on a tattered old blanket one of them had been using as a bedroll.
When Cade saw the RPG launcher, he froze in the act of irrigating the kid’s wound. “Whose was that?” he asked tightly. “His?”
“Yeah. Probably the helo spotter—”
Before the words had even left Geo’s mouth, Cade was yanking his combat knife from the sheath on his thigh and putting it to the kid’s throat.
“What the hell?” Geo took a step toward them, only to stop in his tracks when Cade tangled his fingers in the guy’s hair and pulled his head back into a painful arch. A thick bead of blood formed under the razor-sharp blade and slid down his smooth skin to stain the neckline of his shalwar kameez.
Cade’s eyes looked unfocused, wild. “Can’t let him live. Can’t let him shoot down any more helos.”
Horror turning his blood to ice, Geo fought to keep his voice calm. “Barlow, don’t do this. He’s unarmed. He’s injured.”
Several feet away, Bosch shifted uneasily. His training had been exhaustive in identifying threats, and he’d been taught not to go after American uniforms. This scenario confused him, and Geo could see his hackles go up.
“Foei,” he whispered urgently. No.
The dog didn’t move any closer to Cade, but he didn’t back down either. He stayed in an aggressive stance, legs splayed, chest up. A low growl rumbled in his throat.
Hearing it, Cade let go of the kid’s hair and pulled his pistol, which he aimed directly at Bosch’s head. “Keep him away from me, George. Keep that bastard away or I swear I’ll put a bullet in his brain.”
That bastard. The dog that’d just saved eight lives. Angry muttering came from the SEALs now arrayed in a circle behind Geo.
For the space of three heartbeats—the longest of Geo’s life—Cade didn’t waver. Bosch growled again, and Geo braced himself.
He’s gonna shoot my partner right in front of me. Holy shit.
The silence stretched, broken only by Cade’s harsh breathing and the prisoner’s whimpers, and then Geo’s knees went weak with relief when Cade suddenly clicked on the safety and put the gun away. Calling Bosch to him, Geo tethered him to his belt, trying to hide how his hands were shaking.
After that, the fight visibly leached out of Cade. His shoulders slumping, he dropped his knife to the ground. Immediately a couple of SEALs grabbed the teenage insurgent’s arms and hustled him away.
Jaxon strode up to Cade and got in his face. “What the fuck was that?”
Blinking rapidly, his jaw clenched, Cade forced out, “Just lost it for a second, boss, when I saw that RPG launcher. It’s exactly a punk like that who brought down our guys on Three-Five.”
Jaxon’s expression softened, and he reached out to grip Cade’s shoulder. “I know, but fuck, we’re not into vigilante justice here. This asshole will not pass ‘Go’ on the way to jail, man. You need to let the spooks handle it, aiight?”
Cade gave a jerky nod, and with one last clap to his shoulder, Jaxon strode off, his mind already on the next task.
After a moment, Cade looked over at Geo, his eyes dark with shame and remorse. “I’m sorry, Georgie,” he said quietly.
“You pulled a goddamn gun on your goddamn teammate,” Geo ground out, striving for every ounce of control he possessed. “Sorry isn’t enough.”
“I know.” Cade dropped his gaze. “There’s no excuse. Not much else I can say.”
With that, he bent and picked up his knife. Then he moved around Geo and approached the insurgent, who gave a loud, frightened cry at the sight of him.
“Shut the fuck up,” Cade grated, shoving the knife back into its sheath. “Need to treat your arm.”
Standing frozen, Geo could only watch everyone get back to business as usual, as if someone they all cared about hadn’t just had a serious emotional breakdown right in front of them.
After Jaxon got off his radio call, Geo beckoned him a little bit away from the group. “I think Barlow needs help. What just happened isn’t normal, boss.”
“For someone who’s been through what he has, I’d say yeah, it’s pretty normal. He just needs time.”
Before Geo could push the issue, Jaxon was already turning away, shouting, “A-10 inbound in twenty, people. Let’s hump all this shit over to that courtyard.”
There wasn’t anything for Geo to do but let it go.
Gritting his teeth, he grabbed a corner of the blanket filled with weapons, and with three other guys, ran it over to the compound, a tethered Bosch easily keeping pace with him. The SEALs unceremoniously dumped the blanket into the rocky dirt, then sprinted back through the gate and across the field for about a hundred yards, where they threw themselves into a ditch next to the rest of the guys.
Cade had jammed a hood over the prisoner’s head, and the kid lay curled up on his side in the dirt, blood already seeping through the bandages on his arm. He was quiet, as if resigned to his fate.
And why wouldn’t he be? Geo saw guys like this as more hopeless than cowardly, more sad than evil, all of which made them that much more dangerous. It was one thing to fight an enemy; something else completely to fight a hopeless one.
What must it be like, to be so devoid of hope that shooting down helicopters or blowing themselves up seemed to be the only way young men like this could find honor? What sort of leadership asked that of them?
Geo looked away. One who preyed on the hopeless.
Suddenly, with a scream of powerful jet engines, a huge A-10 roared overhead.
“They’re cleared hot,” Jaxon called over the troop net. “Keep your heads down!”
Before Geo buried his face in the dirt, he saw a blinking object falling from the sky. A split second later, the huge fireball that erupted sent rocks, dirt and pieces of white-hot metal raining down all around them.
Geo was practically lying on top of his dog, and he dug his fingers into the warm fur along his sides, feeling his ribs rising and falling with his reassuring breaths. Secondary explosions cracked through the air as the horrors of the compound were obliterated.