Trevor said grimly, “Ten to one, those teams have turned around and gone back into the compound to ‘happen to see’ our boys.”

All of a sudden, gunfire erupted around Kenny. Dirt flew up and the rat-a-tat of gunfire was deafeningly close. Hands grabbed at Kenny and Sam’s cameras, and not in a helpful way. Kenny’s Ka-Bar knife flashed, and Griffin swore. The hostiles were on Kenny, and he was fighting hand-to-hand, now, trying to hold them off.

Sam’s camera lifted up in the air and smashed down to the ground. The video feed went dead.

It was Griffin’s turn to moan. He had never in his life felt this helpless.

And then something smashed into Kenny’s camera—a rifle butt, perhaps. That feed went dead, too.

Griffin’s stare riveted on Jojo’s feed, still inching toward the gap at the end of the crevice in the rubble pile.

Finally, Jojo reached the end of the long tunnel. Hands abruptly reached into the opening. Grabbed Jojo roughly. Dragged him out.

A silhouette flashed on Jojo’s helmet camera.

“That’s a SEAL!” Griffin cried.

Jojo’s camera tilted, then righted. Someone had just slipped under Jojo’s shoulder and was half carrying, half dragging him away from the disastrous ambush.

The camera bounced violently as the men hauling Jojo broke into a heavy-footed run.

Griffin had done it before. A fast combat carry to clear an injured man from the field. It was massively hard work, but all SEALs were glad to do it for their teammates.

More flashes exploded on Jojo’s camera feed, but the men carrying him plowed onward.

Jojo was laid down on his back. The guys had put him on a stretcher. Now at least four men would be humping him out, which would let them move faster.

Grass and dust suddenly swirled above Jojo.

“Helo. It’s dropping in to pick up Jojo!” Griffin exclaimed. God bless whatever pilot was crazy enough or had a big enough death wish to brave the heavy firefight to get to a hurt SEAL. The interior of a helicopter came into sight in Jojo’s camera feed. A face leaned over Jojo. The guy wore a helmet marked with a white cross. Medic.

Jojo’s helmet was removed, and the camera pointed at a wall of padded vinyl insulation.

“Where’s Kenny?” Griffin asked raggedly. “What happened to him?”

Cal put his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. “Unknown. Drone surveillance operators are looking for him. They’re going back through the footage of the past two minutes or so to track him. They’ll give us a situation report when they know more.”

Griffin waited as long as his raging need to know could stand and then asked again, “Anything?”

“No,” Cal answered grimly. “Nothing.”

“Are they lying to you?” Griffin shot back.

“Maybe.”