SEAL on a Mission - Paige Tyler Page 0,2

from windows and hightailing it out doors on the side of the building closest to him when the night suddenly exploded in a bright orange light and he flew back through the air like a plastic bag in a Walmart parking lot.

He slammed onto the ground hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs and his back went numb as pain raced down his legs. He tucked into a ball and threw his arms up over his head and face, trying to protect himself from what was left of the building as pieces of brick rained down around him. Thick smoke filled the air, making it difficult to breathe. Wes fought the urge to give in to his body’s desire to pass out. If he did, he’d be dead.

He was still shaking his head, trying to clear it, when he caught sight of Noah’s legs sticking out from behind the tires of one of the Land Rovers. His friend wasn’t moving.

No, no, no.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Wes dragged himself along the ground toward his Teammate. He’d barely gone more than a few feet when a burst of automatic weapon fire chewed up the ground around him. He rolled to the side, scrambling across the ground until he reached the crumbling wall around the courtyard. His NVG’s and radio had gotten ripped off in the explosion, but thankfully, his M4 had been attached to his vest via the chest straps. NVG’s and a radio he could do without. His carbine? Not so much.

The wall provided some protection, allowing him to pop up and find the source of the incoming rounds. There, atop the same hill he and his Teammates had been waiting on a little while ago, he caught sight of muzzle blasts from a pair of weapons firing in his direction. He prayed there weren’t any more than those two because there was a good chance he was the only one still conscious after that blast. Hell, as much as it hurt to think about, he might be the only one still alive.

Shit.

He had to stop thinking like that. He’d survived and so his friends. He held onto that belief with everything in him.

Wes was too far away from the shooters at the top of the hill to engage them with any hope of success, which meant he needed to get closer. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself to his feet and started forward. He moved in short bursts of adrenaline, dropping down behind the meager protection of rocks and scrub brush every few seconds only to roll out and dart again over and over until he neared the top of the hill. Round after round slammed into the dirt around him as he ran, but thankfully, never hit him. He popped off a few rounds at the terrorists now and then, not trying to hit them as much as keep them ducking.

As he slipped over the crest of the hill and silently circled around behind them, the terrorists must have realized he’d cut off their escape route down the backside, leaving them with only two options fleeing toward the building they’d just blown up or charging at him. They chose the latter.

Wes dropped to a knee as the men rushed him, firing their weapons at full automatic. AK-47s tended to buck like hell when you used them like that, so the rounds zoomed harmlessly over his head by at least three or four feet. Directing the sight mounted on his M4 at the closest of the two men, he pulled the trigger. Before that guy fell to the ground, Wes was already repositioning his weapon and squeezing the trigger, taking down the second man.

Moving forward, he quickly confirmed the two men were no longer a threat, then spun in a slow circle to take in the surrounding area. That would have been a hell of a lot easier if he still had his NVG’s, but he was able to see enough to know there was no one else waiting to attack him. Keeping his weapon at the ready, he hurried down the hill to check on Noah.

Wes sighed in relief when he saw his Teammate heading toward him. Noah’s tactical vest was ripped open and he looked like he was having a hard time putting weight on his left knee, but he was up and moving. That was all that mattered.

“Holden and Sam?” Wes asked, bracing himself for the worst.

Noah gestured over his shoulder