Honor Reclaimed (HORNET #2)

Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

Christ, there was so much death in these mountains. So many bodies, enough to haunt Seth’s already troubled dreams for centuries.

His throat closed as he stood by his horse on the hill overlooking the destroyed village. As soon as Jesse got Zak stabilized and ready for travel, they’d be leaving. And then…

No. He turned away and continued saddling his horse. He couldn’t think about Phoebe—had to focus on something else. Didn’t have the capacity to deal with the sharp edge of grief threatening to cut away the numbness of shock.

Then he saw it. The saddle bag carrying Phoebe’s clothes, her camera. She never had a chance to retrieve any of it…

So why was it hanging open?

Who the fuck had gone through it?

He did a visual sweep of the contents. Her scarf—the red one she’d worn during the drive from Kabul to Asadabad—was missing.

Movement in the village below caught his attention and he grabbed his rifle, peered through the scope.

Ian picked his way through the rubble toward the dog, who had still not left his spot in front of one of the half-collapsed houses, most likely the home of his former owner. And in Ian’s hand was a length of…

Red scarf.

Moving fast and silently, Seth maneuvered down the hillside and reached the house just as Ian leaned over the poor, forgotten animal.

He lifted his weapon. “What are you doing, you sadistic son of a bitch?”

Ian glanced back with a raised eyebrow. “You got the son of a bitch part right.”

“Yeah, you don’t want to fuck with me, Reinhardt. I’ve had a really bad fucking day. Give me back the scarf or I end your miserable existence, and it’ll be one of the few things I won’t lose sleep over.”

Ian sent him a wicked grin and knelt down.

Seth’s finger tightened on the trigger, but then relaxed as the dog’s tail wagged. Ian spoke softly and buried his hands in the animal’s scruff, giving the dog a good rub that sent his bushy tail whipping, then he held the scarf under the dog’s nose and said firmly, “Phoebe. That’s Phoebe.”

Seth lowered his rifle. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to give him Phoebe’s scent.” Ian kept his gaze focused on the dog. “Thing is, I’ve worked with some bomb-sniffing dogs in the past and this guy’s not trained, but he’s smart and he already has an attachment to her. We might be able to use him to find her.”

Seth’s lungs ached, his chest so tight breathing became a chore. “She’s dead,” he said in a strangled voice that didn’t sound like his own. He looked across the village toward Tehani’s family home, now nothing but a pile of rubble. “Nobody can survive that.”

“I don’t think she was in Tehani’s house,” Ian said and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “C’mon, this is Phoebe we’re talking about. Do you honestly believe she’d just sit around and wait for us to get back? No. She was exploring, looking for the villagers, and I think she was in this house when the bombs dropped. That’s why the dog won’t leave this spot. He knows she’s in there.”

Seth stared at the semi-collapsed house. The wreckage wasn’t as severe as Tehani’s home and if Phoebe was trapped inside—Jesus, it could be survivable. A dangerous bubble of hope expanded in his chest. “Do whatever you need to. I’ll stall Gabe.”

Phoebe started awake to a loud scratching sound. Her ears rang and a pounding, dizzying headache made her nauseous. Blood, lots of it, caked on her face, clogged her nose with the smell of copper and death. Her tongue tasted like dirt and was about as dry, pasted to the roof of her mouth.

What happened?

She shut her eyes, struggled to recall…something. Had she been in some kind of accident? Natural disaster?

No. No, that wasn’t right. She was in Afghanistan…

With Seth.

He’d been the last thought to flash through her mind before unconsciousness sucked her under. Where was he? Was he okay?

She lifted her head. It hurt like hell, but at least she still had a head to lift—definitely a check in the plus column. Her arms and legs all seemed to work too, albeit painfully. Another positive check.

In the negative column—she couldn’t move more than a few inches in any direction. Nor would her parched throat work enough to form a call for help. She tried, again and again, but produced no sound. Panic coated her tongue and she shoved at the debris blocking her in. She did not want to die. Not here. Not like this. Not when a scarred and tortured man would spend the rest of his life drowning in guilt over his perceived failure to protect her, even though there was no way he could have known…

Bomb.

That’s right. She’d been searching through the empty homes, looking for clues to the villagers’ whereabouts, when a plane had dropped bombs on the village.

And even though Seth couldn’t have known it was going to happen, he was going to destroy himself if she died here.

And she didn’t even want to think of what it’d do to her parents, her little brother. Nate was in high school—still so young—and he’d never admit it out loud, but he looked up to her with near hero worship.

She wouldn’t let Nate down. Wouldn’t let Seth self-destruct.

Desperate, she clawed at the mud. Dug for all she was worth and managed to move a chunk of collapsed wall. A hole opened up, almost big enough. Maybe—if she flattened herself out and moved slowly—she just might be able to wiggle through to safety. Or into another mud prison. She had no idea what lay on the other side, but she had to try and pushed forward with her legs.

God, what she wouldn’t give for a bottle of water.

More scraping sounded from outside. It was the same sound that had awakened her and she strained her ears. Listening. Listening.

Seth?

She wanted to scream his name, but no matter how much air she pushed out of her lungs, the best she could do was a tiny whimper of sound.

No, wait. That whimper wasn’t from her.

She shifted and her leg came up against a warm, furry body. A…dog? Yes! He scooted in beside her until they were nose-to-nose and gave her a sloppy hello lick.

Joy burst through her. Tank the Wonder Dog. The amazing animal had come to find her. She hugged him tight, reveled in the warmth of his scruffy coat. He barked excitedly and the sound caused her head to spin, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t alone anymore.

Good boy, Tank.

With numb fingers, she unknotted her scarf from her neck and tied it around the dog’s. She nudged him to go. It took a few tries, but she finally got the stubborn animal to shimmy out the same way he’d come in. She watched his progress, then wiggled herself around until she could see the path he’d used. He’d dug a hole under one of the heavy slabs of wall that had kept her trapped.

Oh, Tank. Such a good, brilliant boy.

She’d kiss that dog when she got out.

Every nerve ending in her body screamed as she pulled herself through the hole, but she saw light and it was enough to keep her going. Then, she heard Seth’s voice: “That’s her scarf. She tied her scarf around his neck.”

“Holy shit,” someone else said—Ian maybe? But, no, she must be delusional because Seth and Ian hated each other for reasons she’d never been able to pin down. And she was going to talk to them about that, too. They could be friends. She didn’t know much about Ian, but got the feeling they had a lot more in common than either of them realized. Maybe if Ian had a friend he wouldn’t be such a jerk all the time. Silly, obstinate men.

Cripes, she was tired. And no matter how far she crawled toward the light, it seemed to move farther and farther away.

Wait. Wasn’t she supposed to avoid the light? Going into the light was bad, right?

Her head spun and she paused, resting it on her forearm. She really wanted some water and a warm blanket, but she’d settle for a nap. A nap was good.

“We need Gabe. And everyone else. Somehow, we have to lift this house off her. Phoebe, if you can hear me, hang on, okay? We’re coming in for you. I promise.”

Seth.

She had to keep moving, if not for her sake than for his. He couldn’t lose another person he cared about. And he did care about her, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it yet. She cared about him too, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it either. But they had something. Maybe even something special, something worth pursuing.

She’d never know if she stopped now.

Gathering her last bit of strength, she pushed forward with everything she had and the light suddenly blinded.

Sunlight.

She was free.

Strong hands gripped her wrists and Seth hauled her up out of the dirt and rubble and into his arms.

“I got her,” he yelled and hugged her to his chest. “Guys, she’s alive and I got her!”

She smiled and dug her fingers into the front of his shirt, burrowing into his strength and warmth. As she tumbled back into unconsciousness, the best sound she’d ever heard in her life followed her.

Seth was laughing.