Chapter 6 - Off the Ridge
Jenna got Marcus onto his feet for the first hundred yards.
His right arm stayed over her shoulders. Her arm locked around his waist. Together they moved behind the stone line while the remaining SEALs provided controlled covering fire from farther upslope.
Marcus tried to carry his own weight.
Then his knees failed.
Jenna lowered him behind a rock and checked the dressing she had pressed against his side.
The extraction voice came through the radio.
“Landing zone compromised. Move south to alternate pickup. Eight miles along the ridge system.”
Marcus laughed once, without humor.
“Eight miles.”
Jenna looked toward the route.
The alternate extraction point sat beyond two steep saddles, one narrow shelf, and a plateau where the helicopter could hover low enough for a hoist or landing attempt. There was no vehicle access. No immediate rescue team close enough to reach them.
Marcus leaned his head against the stone.
“Leave me a radio.”
“No.”
“You’ll move faster.”
“I said no.”
“You have the intelligence package. That matters more.”
Jenna removed more gear from him, secured his weapon, then turned her back.
“Arms around my shoulders.”
He stared at her.
“Lawson.”
“Now.”
Marcus obeyed.
She pulled him onto her back, using the rock for leverage. Pain tore through her hips and shoulders. Her boots sank into loose shale. For one second, she could not straighten.
Then she remembered Montana.
You do not leave weight behind because the mountain became inconvenient.
May you like
Jenna stood.
And began walking.
