Griffin added, “If nothing else, seeing a third fully armed SEAL approaching adds that much more intimidation factor when the team encounters hostiles.”

Which he seemed certain the Reapers would do.

Sherri gulped. It was one thing to train hypothetically for this stuff. It was another altogether to actually see what she was getting herself into. On one hand, it scared her silly. On the other hand, a burst of adrenaline in her gut shouted nothing but excitement at the prospect of being out there in the dark and danger, saving the world.

All of a sudden, the entire valley erupted with movement.

Voices from the support team monitoring the overhead drone cameras shouted, and a deafening cacophony of gunfire erupted.

“What the hell?” the men at the conference table muttered in unison.

Sherri leaned forward, staring in disbelief at the video images. Taliban fighters were standing up, lining the entire rim of the valley. Hundreds of them. Rifles in hand, they started charging like bats out of hell down the mountains at the SEALs now crouched beside the compound.

“Where in the hell did they come from?” one of the operators on the ground broke silence to demand over the cacophony of gunfire.

Ops answered tautly, “We had no heat signatures. They either came out of undiscovered tunnels, or they were hiding under some sort of heat-shielding material.”

“Head count?” the same operator demanded roughly.

“At least a hundred.”

Griffin shoved a hand through his hair in what looked close to despair. “Our guys have to fall back until the Marines arrive. Engage the hostiles in a front-and-back firefight. And Ops needs to call in gunships ASAP.”

Cal replied grimly, “It’ll take the Marines a solid ten minutes at top speed to join our guys. As for gunships, that valley is narrow and steep. It’ll be a bitch to run a ship down in there and not crash.”

“Attack drones, then,” Griffin responded desperately. “Something! They need support, or they’re all going to be slaughtered!”

It was a hell of an ugly ambush. Whoever had planned it had done his work well.

The three Reaper camera views dropped close to the ground. The guys were no doubt taking cover behind whatever they could find at the edge of a broad expanse of dirt.

The Reaper belonging to monitor one held up a fist in camera range and signaled his teammates to prepare to move out.

Anna asked, “Doesn’t he know he’s got a hurt man with him?”

Trevor answered her gently, “Until that hurt man tells the team leader he can’t continue, the team leader will assume the hurt guy can function and not hinder the team.”

Griffin muttered, his gaze never leaving the monitors, “We fight wounded and shot up all the time.”

Cripes. This was that heart-of-a-SEAL stuff Griffin kept talking about.