When he rounded the last horseshoe bend and had the rock spire in sight, the radio crackled to life. “Civilian Delta, Rescue Alpha has a man down on the south rim. He looks dead.”

Before Mansfield could respond, Harvey pulled the transmit trigger. “Rescue Alpha, what is the downed man wearing?” Harvey looked up to his right where the Black Hawk was orbiting in a tight circle above a bowl-shaped sandy formation on the rim.

“Can’t say for sure, but it looks like digital desert.”

Harvey felt relief wash over him. “Do you see anyone else? Our man is wearing woodland MARPAT under a ghillie suit.”

“Negative, the casualty isn’t wearing a ghillie suit.”

“I’m going up there,” Harvey said. He applied collective and climbed to the rim of the canyon. Fifty yards south of Leonard’s body, he saw a sandy patch of clear ground surrounded by waist-high brush. He taxied over, made a landing, and throttled the RPM down. “I’ll be right back. You’ve got her?”

“I’ve got her,” Mansfield confirmed.

Harvey climbed out and sprinted across the rocky terrain, weaving his way through the brush and larger rocks littering the landscape. Overhead, the loud roar of the orbiting helicopter drowned out the Bell’s engine noise.

Leonard Bridgestone lay facedown at the edge of the canyon’s rim. The back of his head was gone. From the look of things, his rifle had been shouldered when Nate nailed him. Harvey stepped behind Bridgestone and lined up on his position. Bone, scalp, and brain matter had been sprayed across the sand, and from the fan-shaped pattern, Harvey could approximate where the shot had come from. He sighted down Leonard’s body and made a mental note of a huge downed oak near the streambed. Twenty seconds later, Harvey was strapped in and lifting off. When he descended into the canyon, there wasn’t a good place to set her down except the wet sand of the streambed. In the center of the wash, nearly a foot of water still flowed.

“General, can one of your pilots test this LZ before I set her down? I don’t have enough experience to try it.”

“No problem.” Mansfield called Rescue Bravo down to their location and ordered it to check the stability of the sand near the bank of the stream.

Harvey taxied Nathan’s Bell away from the LZ so the Black Hawk could take his place. Thirty seconds later, the Air Force helicopter was hovering over the moist sand. Its pilot carefully settled onto the wet surface, gradually putting more and more weight onto its skids until it was fully down. The skids sunk only a few inches into the wet sand before stopping.

The pilot radioed the results before lifting off again. “You’re good to go, Civilian Delta. Shouldn’t be a problem lifting off again.”

Mansfield cut in. “Rescue Bravo, set down and prepare for a medevac.”

“Copy.”