I put the strap of my rifle over my shoulder and pull it tight against my body before I run straight for Kaleb. The others will have my back even though I hear them calling my name through my earpiece. I will not stand by and watch anyone piss on one of my guys, especially my guy.
As I get closer, I see our American flag spread across the ground below him, but my eyes are searching for movement from Kaleb. He’s just hanging there, and my heart is screaming at his hopefully beating heart to show me he’s alive. Give me a sign, Kaleb. Give me a fucking sign. Inhale, exhale. Scream in pain. Anything to let me know you're still here with me.
My footing is quick, and I jump over broken branches the entire way. I catch a glimpse of Harris to my right and speed up along with him. Two men exit the house, and I hear two shots echo through the air right after, so I'm only guessing there'll be more.
I don't stop to think. I'm aware I'm acting on impulse right now and a sniper shouldn't be running in like this. It's a good thing I'm good at many things. I draw my pistol to the front of my body and aim at the guy I shot in the ass trying to crawl away from Kaleb’s feet. Sending a bullet straight through his head, I scan the other two for any movement, but they're not even trying to move. Good. Rot in hell, you sick fucks.
My focus is back on Kaleb as soon as my feet come to a stop. My eyes water at the sight of his wounds, and my heart hurts so fucking bad I can hardly move.
His head hangs low, and if I didn't recognize his tattoos, I'd never know this is him. He's been beaten beyond recognition, and an overwhelming rush of anger flows through my body.
Harris goes straight for Kaleb’s restraints with his knife, working to free him, and I move in to hold his lifeless body. He's so cold. The night is hot, but he's cold. “Kaleb, baby. I'm here.” My eyes race over him for any fucking sign he's still with me. “Please, god. Please, don't take him from me.” Tears roll down my face, and I blink past them, trying to see him completely. Harris finally breaks the tension of the ropes, and his weight falls into my arms. It takes everything I have to hold him as I drag him a few feet from the bloody, piss-covered flag beneath him. Harris helps me with his heavy, lifeless body, and we both fall to the ground with him at the sound of gunshots at our backs. I check for his pulse on the side of his neck right away, and thank god, I find one.
“Fuck. Elliott. Tell me he's alive. I've got to kill these motherfuckers.” Harris pulls out his gun and begins to fire toward the house.
“There’s a heartbeat.” My eyes land on his swollen lids, and I let my fingers brush his face. He's covered in mud, blood, blisters, and there are open wounds all over his body. I'm afraid to touch him, but I have to, so I keep my fingers near his neck. It seems to be the least injured, and through the sound of chaos I try to bring calm to him through my touch.
“Kaleb. Don't you dare leave me here. I need you. You promised me that fucking vacation.” His eyelids flicker slightly, and I wish I could see his blue eyes. His lips move to say something, but nothing comes out.
The air is silent again, and Harris turns to look at Kaleb. He takes his shirt off and covers Kaleb’s body in an attempt to spare him the embarrassment of this situation. Kaleb winces with every touch from us, and I start to worry how we’ll ever get him out of here.
“Stay with me, brother.” Harris runs his hand over Kaleb's forehead, and I hear the rustle of many boots approaching. The team is surrounding us now as they all watch the entire area, guns drawn and ready to fire at anything that moves.
“Fuck.” The word comes out of his mouth as a near growl, but it comes out. Kaleb’s swollen eyes pull together tighter, and I move closer to his ear.
“Please be strong. I promise to make it worth your while. We have so much left to do, Kaleb. Just stay with me.” The guys start to talk behind me, and I catch the end of what they're saying.
“It's not a great plan, but it's a fucking plan. We need to get him the hell out of Mexico and to a hospital that can take care of him. He's going to need care here though. And probably a few days of recovery before we move him back to the States.” Jackson and Kase crouch down behind me as I'm still lying beside Kaleb. Harris hasn't moved either, and we both work to cover him and protect him in case someone else is alive and tries to shoot him.
“The house is clear.” Steele’s voice rings through the night air, and I feel the guys relax just slightly. “I count twelve bodies. We’re going to need to move now.”
“The truck is five miles out. It'll be a few minutes,” someone rumbles out.
“Stand watch so I can stabilize him.” Bullet moves in and crouches as Harris stands to his feet. His determined eyes scan our surroundings, and I find comfort in knowing they're all on watch, while I focus on Kaleb.
I want to feel relieved I have Kaleb near me, but just looking at him, I can tell he's in so much pain.