Navy Seal Rescue. Susan Cliff

studied the girl as he finished his sandwich. “She is pretty, for a Yazidi.”

      “I can’t carry her,” Hud said.

      “You won’t have to,” Layah replied. “She is strong enough to make the journey.”

      He rubbed a hand over his mouth, uneasy. Layah had no idea how many things could go wrong on a climbing expedition. This entire country was a jinx, as far as he was concerned. His last mission had been a disaster. He’d left two good men behind. He’d let down his team by getting captured.

      He wasn’t ready to play the hero again, physically or mentally. Four days ago he’d been struggling to survive in an underground dungeon. Now he was carrying a heavy load of equipment and a staggering amount of responsibility. Innocent lives were at stake. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard.

      “Is your shoulder sore?” she asked.

      “It’s fine.”

      “Any dizziness?”

      He shook his head and moved past her. If he pushed them hard, someone might get injured or quit before they reached the point of no return. He could push Ashur off the side of a cliff while he was at it. “Let’s go.”

      She agreed with an easy nod. “I would like to reach the edge of the snow by nightfall. How does that sound?”

      He squinted into the distance. “Optimistic.”

      They set out again five minutes later. Hud led the pack, followed by Ashur and Layah. Everyone else marched behind them in a neat row, with the armed guards at the rear. Hud didn’t expect any gun battles out here in the middle of nowhere, but it was possible. If they did get shot at, he planned to grab a Kalashnikov and return fire. The rocky terrain offered very little cover. The best defense was excellent marksmanship.

      As they reached higher elevations, the conditions worsened. Loose pebbles shifted beneath his feet and he struggled to catch his breath in the thin air. Tomorrow they would add snow to the mix. Then ice. At some point, he’d need to use his climbing gear on the rock face. Without his technical skills, they wouldn’t make it.

      Hud might have enjoyed tackling this mountain range with Team Twelve. SEALs were all experienced climbers and expert outdoorsmen. He could lead his team across the Zagros with confidence. Refugees and children were another story. He kept glancing over his shoulder, expecting injuries.

      They settled into a steady rhythm. He pushed as hard as he dared, and they pushed themselves harder. No one fell down the hill or collapsed in exhaustion. Layah, in particular, impressed him with her stamina. She had a body like a centerfold, not an athlete, so he hadn’t expected her to keep up.

      About an hour before sunset, he spotted a possible campsite. It was a little early, and they hadn’t yet reached the edge of the snowcap, but they were close. He knew they were tired, because he was tired. The excited chatter he’d heard all afternoon had died down.

      He paused on a flat stretch of land and studied the area. There was a trickle of water running down the side of the cliff nearby. It was a good place to stay, sheltered from the wind on three sides.

      “We can stop here for the night,” he said to Layah.

      She smiled her relief. “Bless you.”

      He took off his pack and sat with his back against the rock, muscles aching. He was beat. She pressed a handful of dates into his palm. Although he was ravenous, he chewed slowly, savoring each bite. The others rested with them, drinking and eating their own snacks. The setting sun glowed on the horizon.

      “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Layah murmured.

      Before today, he’d have said Iraq was the ugliest place on earth. But this stretch of land was a rich tapestry of colors, dancing with light. He turned his gaze to her face and found more beauty there. “We have to set up the tents.”

      “My cousins will do it.” She gave the order with a wave of her hand.

      Aram and Yusef fumbled with three tents, two medium-sized and one small. They were clearly out of their element, but Hud left them to it. Layah had a tiny stove to boil water for a meal of dried meat and couscous. It was a time-consuming process. They ate in batches, refilling their water bottles from the stream. When they were finished, it was almost dark, and the temperature had dropped considerably.

      Hud knew at a glance that there wasn’t enough space for everyone. There was a tent for women and a tent for men, both full. Hud, Ashur and Layah were left with the smaller tent. “This was supposed to be for the Turks,” Layah said.

      “I’ll take it,” Hud said.

      “You can’t. The women’s tent has no space because of Hanna and Yelda. Ashur and I have nowhere else to sleep.”

      “Ashur can sleep with your cousins.”

      “The men are taking turns keeping watch.”

      “So? He can take a turn.”

      Ashur was pleased with this arrangement, which gave him man status and access to the Kalashnikovs.

      “I don’t want him handling weapons,” Layah said.

      “I’ll give him a safety lesson tomorrow,” Hud said. He didn’t trust Ashur not to shoot him accidentally. Or even on purpose.

      “Very well,” she said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Good night.”

      Ashur joined the other men in the tent while Yusef came outside for first watch. He narrowed his eyes at Hud in warning, but said nothing.

      “My cousins don’t approve of us sleeping together,” Layah said.

      “Your cousins aren’t in charge.”

      She didn’t disagree. Hud suspected she had her own reasons for agreeing to share his space. Maybe she wanted to keep tabs on him.

      Hud crawled into the two-man tent after Layah. He didn’t care about her overprotective family members or her martyred-widow reputation. He just wanted peace and quiet. She settled in next to him, stiff as a board.

      Two minutes later, he was asleep.