Chapter 2
The room went silent.
Riley’s jaw tightened, but she kept her voice calm.
“If they breach that wall, you’ll need close air support within minutes.”
Dayne smiled.
“Any jet can scare men with rifles.”
Riley’s eyes hardened.
“No, sir. Not danger close.”
He waved her off in front of everyone.
“Stay on standby where you belong.”
That had been five hours ago.
Now the southern wall was gone.
The dry riverbed was full of muzzle flashes.
And Dayne’s soldiers were trapped exactly where Riley had warned him they would be.
A mortar hit the far side of the compound.
The ground jumped.
Dayne slammed shoulder-first into the wall and nearly lost the radio.
“Medic!” someone screamed.
A soldier crawled past him with blood on his sleeve.
Dayne grabbed the radio and dragged himself lower.
“Vindicator Actual, this is Vindicator Six!” he shouted. “We are taking heavy fire! I need air support now!”
Static answered him.
He looked over the wall.
Three armored trucks were burning.
The command tent was shredded.
His men were pinned in pockets across the outpost, separated by smoke, dust, and incoming fire.
For the first time in years, Colonel Dayne had no one to blame.
So he blamed the sky.
“Send any jet!” he yelled into the radio. “Anything!”
A sergeant nearby turned toward him.
“Sir, we’ve got friendlies tight on the wall!”
Dayne glared at him.
“I know where my men are!”
But he didn’t.
Not anymore.
The battlefield had moved faster than his pride could follow.
Then the radio cracked.
A female voice came through.
Calm.
Controlled.
“Vindicator Actual, Tusker Zero-Four inbound.”
Dayne froze.
He knew that voice.
May you like
Riley Shaw.
Read Part 3 to see why the pilot he insulted was the only one close enough to save him.
