
Five Ways to Surrender
Author
Elle James
Reads
16.2K
Chapters
18
Chapter One
Sweat dripped from beneath navy SEAL âBig Jakeâ Schulerâs helmet, down his forehead and into his eyes. He raised a hand to wipe away the salty liquid, blinking to clear his vision.
Their local informant stood at the village entrance, in the TillabĂŠri region of Niger, talking to a barefoot man dressed in long dusty black pants and a worn button-down gray shirt. They had their heads together and appeared to be talking fast. Several times, the men glanced in the SEAL teamâs direction.
âWhatâs Dubaku doing?â Jake asked into his mic.
âHeâs only supposed to be checking that the village is clear, before we move on,â Harmon âHarmâ Payne said. âYou heard the brief. Weâre on a recon mission. Weâre not to engage.â
Military Intelligence had gotten wind that Abu Nuru al-Waseka, the head of the ISIS faction in north central Africa, had been seen in one of the villages farther up the road.
With what little they knew, Jakeâs SEAL team had deployed from their base of operations in Djibouti to Niger. From there, they hooked up with Dubaku, a member of the Niger Army who had connections with villagers along their route. Their contact had been known to help the army Special Forces unit positioned there to train the Niger armed forces. He was supposed to be a trusted source.
A prickly feeling crawled across the back of Jakeâs neck. âI donât like how long heâs been standing there.â
Dubaku turned and pointed in Jakeâs direction.
The man heâd been talking to nodded and reentered the small village, disappearing around the side of a hut.
Dubaku left the village and walked along the dusty road until he reached one of the SUVs theyâd commandeered from the Special Forces units. The vehicle stood partially hidden in the branches of a group of scraggly trees.
The sun baked the land, making dust out of the soil. Every puff of wind stirred the fine grains of dirt into whirling dervishes.
Using the SUV for cover, Jake hurried to Dubaku. âWhat did you find out?â
âThe villagers havenât seen any strangers,â Dubaku said.
Jake studied the man.
Dubaku didnât make eye contact. Instead, he alternated between staring at his feet and back at the village. âAshiri went to ask others if they have seen anyone.â Dubaku gave a slight bow with his hands pressed together. âIf you will excuse me, I must relieve myself.â
That prickly feeling multiplied when Dubaku left the SUV, walked into the sparsely wooded landscape and disappeared.
âI have a bad feeling about this,â Jake said. âLetâs move.â
Percy âPitbullâ Taylor leaned across the cab of the SUV and flung open the passenger door. âGet in.â
Jake shook his head, his gaze scanning the area and coming back to the village where Ashiri had disappeared. He gripped his rifle in his fists. âIâll walk alongside until weâre past the village. I donât trust Ashiri or Dubaku at this point.â Then he spoke into his mic. âDiesel, keep a safe distance between the vehicles.â
âWilco.â Dalton âDieselâ Landon waited until Pitbull pulled several vehicle lengths ahead.
Graham âBuckâ Buckner climbed out of Dieselâs vehicle and raised his M4A1 rifle at the ready.
Harm, already on the other side of Pitbullâs vehicle, moved forward as the SUV inched along at a slow, steady pace.
Buck and Trace âT-Macâ McGuire brought up the rear of Dieselâs SUV. Every SEAL on the ground had an M4A1 carbine rifle with the Special Operations Peculiar Modification (SOPMOD) upgrade. Pitbull and Diesel had their weapons in the SUVs, within easy reach.
At that moment, Jake wished he had an HK MP5 submachine gun with several fully loaded clips. That prickly feeling was getting worse by the minute. Jake didnât see the normal congregation of women and children outside the huts. In fact, since theyâd arrived outside the village, those people who had been hanging around had all disappeared.
âLetâs move a little faster,â Jake urged. âThe village appears to be a ghost town.â
âSomethingâs up,â Harm agreed.
âI thought this was supposed to be a routine fact-finding mission,â T-Mac said.
ââDonât engage,â they said.â Buck mimicked the intel officer whoâd briefed them in Djibouti. âWell, what if they engage us first?â
âThatâs when all bets are off.â Jakeâs hold tightened on his rifle.
The lead vehicle had passed the village and was moving along the dirt road leading to the next village when an explosion ripped through the air.
âWhat the hell was that?â Diesel asked.
âWeâve got incoming!â Harm yelled. âSomeoneâs got an RPG and theyâre targeting our vehicles.â
Another rocket hit the ground fifty yards from where Jake stood. He dropped to a squat and waited for the dust to clear.
When it did, he counted half a dozen men in black garb and turbans rushing toward him, firing AK-47s.
âThey fired first,â Jake said, returning fire. âSix Tangos incoming from the west.â He took out two and kept firing.
âI count five from the east,â Harm said from the other side of the SUV. Sounds of gunfire filled the air.
âGot a truckload of them coming straight at us on the road,â Pitbull said.
âI count at least half a dozen cominâ at us from the rear,â T-Mac reported.
âWeâre surrounded,â Buck said. âUse the SUVs for cover.â
The men rolled under the SUVs and fired from beneath.
âGuys, get out from under the lead vehicle!â Pitbull yelled. âTheyâre going to ram us!â
Jake rolled out from under and kept rolling, staying as low to the ground as he could, firing every time he came back to the prone position. He slipped into a slight depression in the hard-packed dirt and fired at the black-garbed men coming at him.
A loud bang sounded along with the screech of metal slamming into metal.
Giving only the fleetest of glances, Jakeâs heart plummeted. The lead SUV had been knocked several feet back from where it had been standing. If Harm hadnât made it out in time, he would have been crushed by the ramming enemy truck.
âPitbull?â Jake held his breath, awaiting his friendâs response.
âIâm good,â Pitbull said. âShaken, not stirred. I shot the truck driver before he hit.â
âGood. Everyone else,â Jake said, âsound off.â
In quick succession, the other four men reported in.
âHarm.â
âT-Mac.â
âBuck.â
âDiesel.â
A man leaped up from the ground and ran toward Jake.
The navy SEAL fired, cutting him down, only to have another man take his place and rush his position. He pulled the trigger. At the last minute, the attacker swerved right. The bullet nicked him, but didnât slow him down.
Jake pulled the trigger again, only nothing happened. He pushed the release button, and the magazine dropped at the same time as he reached for another. Slamming the full magazine into the weapon, Jake fired point-blank as the man flung himself at Jake.
The bullet sailed right through the manâs chest, and he fell on top of Jake.
For a moment, Jake was crushed by the manâs weight. He couldnât move and couldnât free his hands to fire his weapon.
Gunfire blasted all around. Dust choked the air and made locating the enemy difficult at best.
Jake pushed aside the dead man and glanced around.
âThey fell back,â Buck said. âBut theyâre regrouping.â
âGet in the rear SUV and get the hell out of here,â Jake said. âIâll cover.â
Buck and T-Mac jumped into the rear SUV. Diesel revved the engine and raced up to the destroyed one.
The doors were flung open. âGet in,â Buck said.
Harm ran alongside the vehicle, refusing to get inside. Pitbull pulled himself into the front passenger seat.
The enemy soldiers raced to follow them.
Jake laid down suppressive fire, emptying a thirty-round magazine in seconds.
âWeâre not leaving without you!â Harm yelled.
Jake shook his head and kept firing. âGet in the damned vehicle. Iâll remain on the ground and cover.â
Harm complied and the SUV moved forward, using the crashed SUV for cover.
Jake popped out the expended magazine and slammed in one of the last two he had.
The enemy soldiers either hit the ground when they caught a bullet, or dived low to avoid getting hit. Either way, Jakeâs gunfire slowed their movement. But not for long. âGo!â he yelled, lurched to his feet and backed up to the enemy truck without letting up his suppressive fire against the oncoming threat. âYou have to leave now. Itâs the only way any of us are getting out of this alive.â
Jake flung open the door of the truck, dragged the dead driver out and climbed behind the steering wheel. He hung his rifle out the window and fired with his left hand. âIâll head for the hills, head south, get to safety and come back when you have sufficient backup.â He started the engine and attempted to reverse. The front grill of the truck hung on the grill of the damaged SUV.
âI donât like it,â Diesel said into Jakeâs earpiece.
âYou donât have to,â Jake said. âJust go before I run out of bullets.â
Diesel pulled away in the SUV.
Jake fired again, laying down a barrage of bullets at the men advancing on his position. He ducked low as bullets hit the windshield and pinged off the metal frame of the truck. He shifted into Drive, hit the accelerator and slammed the SUV. Then he shoved the shift into Reverse and gunned the engine. The SUV dragged along with him for several feet until the front grill broke free.
Jake backed up fast and considered racing after the other SUV. But, already, another truck had appeared from the direction of the village. If he didnât take out the oncoming vehicle, the rest of his team would gain little lead time on the enemy.
Shifting into Drive, Jake revved the engine and shifted his foot off the brake. The truck shot forward, plowing through the line of attackers, knocking some down and scattering the rest.
Driving head-on toward the truck, Jake held true, daring the other driver to back down first but guessing he wouldnât.
At the last moment, Jake grabbed his rifle, flung open the door and threw himself out of the truck. He hit the ground hard, tucked and somersaulted, his weapon pressed close to his chest.
The truck heâd been driving plowed into the other with the clash of metal on metal. Both vehicles shook and then settled, smoke and steam rising from the engines.
Jake didnât wait around to see what the remaining jihadist would do. He jerked a smoke grenade from his vest, pulled the ring, tossed it behind him and then ran toward the only cover he hadâthe short, squat mud-and-stick huts of the village clustered against a bluff. He figured the enemy wouldnât start looking for him there.
He prayed he was right. From the intel briefing theyâd received, the ISIS faction was alive and well in the TillabĂŠri region of southwestern Niger and was known for the extreme torture tactics they used against their foes. He refused to be one of their victims. Heâd die fighting rather than be captured. Surrender wasnât an option.
* * *
REVEREND TOWNSEND BURST through the door of the makeshift schoolhouse, interrupting Alexâs reading lesson. âAlex, get the children out of the building. Now!â
Alexandria Parkerâs heart leaped into her throat. âWhy? Whatâs wrong?â
The reverendâs wrinkled face was tense, his hands shaking as he waved children toward the door. âKamathi just came through the village and told everyone to get out. If I hadnât been there, I wouldnât have known.â
Alex closed her reading book. âWhy do we have to leave?â
âAl-Waseka is coming.â
Fear rippled through Alex. One of the men in the village had been captured by al-Waseka, the most notorious Islamic State leader in all of Niger. He had been beaten, whipped and burned in many places on his body. The only reason heâd survived was because theyâd thrown his body off the back of a truck, presuming he was dead. Heâd crawled under a bush and waited until his captors had left the area. Then heâd used what little energy he had remaining to wait near the road for the next friendly vehicle to pass. Fortunately, it had been the good reverendâs.
In his seventies, Reverend Townsend got around well for his age. He worked hard and never complained. The villagers loved him and treated the white-haired old man and his wife like family.
Standing in Alexâs makeshift schoolroom, he appeared to have aged ten years. âBy the time I left the village, every man, woman and child had gone. They ran into the hills. We have to get these children out of the orphanage as quickly as possible. Take them into the hills.â
Alex waved to her assistant, Fariji, the tall young man whoâd been more than happy to help her with her lessons and, in the process, was learning to read himself. âHelp me get the children out.â
âYes, Miss Alex.â He had the older kids hold hands with the younger ones and led them out the door.
Alex herded the rest of the children toward the door. âLeave your books,â she said. âOlder children, help the younger ones.â
The children bottlenecked at the door, where the reverend hurried them through. Once they were all outside, he faced the children. âFollow Miss Alex and Fariji,â he said. âStay with them.â
Alex turned to the reverend. âWhere do I go in the hills?â
âAnywhere, just hide. Some of the older children play in the hills. Let them lead you.â He turned to stare into the distance, where the road led into the village.
Alex didnât like that the reverend wasnât coming with them. âWhat about you and Mrs. Townsend?â
âMartha refused to leave the sick baby.â He looked back at her. âGo. We are in Godâs hands.â
Maybe so, but the ISIS terrorists didnât believe in the reverendâs God. They believed in killing all foreigners and many of their own people in their efforts to control the entire region. âReverend, let me help you bring Martha out of the village.â
He shook his head. âShe wonât abandon the mother and child she has been helping for the past few days. They canât be moved.â
âHave you considered the fact that you and your wife staying with them might give the terrorists more reason to not only kill you and your wife, but also the woman and her baby?â
He nodded and repeated, âWe are in Godâs hands.â He nodded at the children running toward the hills. âGo with them. They need someone to ensure their survival.â
Torn between saving the children and saving her mentor, father figure and friend, Alex hesitated.
âYou canât help everyone,â the reverend said. âMartha and I have lived long, productive lives. No regrets. You and the children have not.â He waved her toward the children. âGo. Live.â
Alex hugged the reverend. âIâll go, but once the children are safe, Iâm coming back for you and Martha.â
He patted her back. âOnly if itâs safe.â
An explosion rocked the ground and was followed by the sound of gunfire.
Her pulse hammering in her veins, Alex hurried after Fariji and the children running through the village streets toward the hills.
She counted heads, satisfied she had all of her little charges. Some of them clustered around her, while others ran ahead. One little girl tripped and fell.
Alex scooped her up and set her on her feet, barely slowing. She clutched the childâs hand and kept moving.
More gunfire sounded behind her. She didnât look back. She had one goal: to get the children to safety. Only then would she think about what was going on in the village.
At the far end of the community, they neared the base of the bluffs rising high over their heads.
A shiver of fear rippled through Alex. She had never hiked in the hills because she was afraid she wouldnât find her way back out. Now she was purposely heading into unknown territoryâwith children. For a moment, she hesitated.
Then another explosion shook the earth beneath her feet. She glanced over her shoulder. A plume of dusty fire and smoke rose up into the air near the road leading into the village.
She didnât need any more motivation. Bullets were bad; bombs were even worse. âHurry!â she yelled.
The youngest children had slowed, their little legs tired from running through the village.
Alex despaired. How could she get all of them up the steep slopes? And if they did make it, where would she hide them?
Sheâd heard from some of the elders that there were caves in the hills. In the past, when their village had been invaded, the people had fled to the hills and hidden in the caves until the attackers moved on.
Alex lifted one of the smallest girls and settled her on her back. She started up the hill, holding the hand of a little boy, small for his seven years. She tried not to think about what was happening down in the village.
If the threat was the ISIS faction, the reverend and his wife were in grave danger. Alexâs heart squeezed tightly in her chest. The elderly couple were incredibly kind and selfless. They didnât deserve to be tortured or killed.
Ahead, Alex caught glimpses of other villagers, climbing the rugged path upward. She felt better knowing they were heading in the right direction. Hopefully, the men terrorizing the village wouldnât take the time or make the effort to climb into the hills to capture villagers and orphans. What would it buy them?
However, Alex, being an American and female, might be a more attractive bargaining chip. Or sheâd make for better film footage on propaganda videos. She had to keep out of sight of the ISIS terrorists.
Once they could no longer see the village, Alex breathed a little more freely. Not that they were out of danger, but if they couldnât see the village, the attackers couldnât see them.
Ahead and to the north rose stony bluffs, shadowed by the angle of the sun hitting the ridge to the south.
Alex paused to catch her breath and study the bluff. Had she seen movement? She blinked and stared again at a dark patch in the rocky edifice.
A village woman slipped from the patch and climbed downward to where Alex stood with her little band of orphaned children.
Another woman followed the first, and then another. Soon five women were on their way down the steep slope to where Alex and Fariji stood. Each gathered a small child and headed up to what Alex realized was a cave entrance.
Alex, burdened with the girl on her back, started up the path, urging the other children to climb or crawl up the slippery slope. By the time she reached the entrance, she was breathing hard.
She slipped the girl from her back and eased her to the stone floor of the cave.
More than a dozen women and children emerged from deep in the shadows, their eyes wide and wary. They gathered around Alex, all talking at once.
âWhere are the others?â Alex asked in French.
âScattered among the caves.â A woman called Rashida stepped forward. âThere are many caves. This is only the first one.â
âThey will find us here,â a younger woman said. âWe must go deeper into the hills.â
âWe canât,â Rashida said. She tipped her head toward three older women sitting on the ground, their backs hunched, their eyes closed. âThe old ones will not make it. It was all they could do to come this far.â
Alexâs heart went out to the old and young who couldnât move as fast or endure another climb up steep hills.
âNone of us will last long without food and water,â the other woman argued.
âWe canât go back down to the village.â An old woman called Mirembe glanced up from her position seated on the ground. âWe would all be tortured or killed.â
Alex didnât want to argue with the women when the reverend and his wife were down there with no one to help or hide them. With the children safe in the cave, Alex couldnât stop thinking about the elderly missionaries. She drew in a deep breath and made up her mind. âI need you women to care for these children.â
Again, the women gathered around her.
âWhere are you going?â Rashida asked.
âDonât leave us,â another woman pleaded.
âIf you go back, youâll be killed,â Mirembe predicted.
âI have to go back. Reverend Townsend and his wife stayed behind.â
Mirembe shook her head. âThey are dead by now. They must be.â
A sharp pain pierced Alexâs heart. âI choose to think they are still alive. And Iâm going down to see if there is anything I can do to help.â She glanced around at the women. âWill you care for these children?â she repeated with more force.
Rashida nodded. âWe will look after them until your return.â
A tiny hand tugged at her pant leg. âMiss Alex, please donât go.â
Alex glanced down at Kamaria, the little girl sheâd carried up the hill. She had tears in her big brown eyes as she stared up at Alex.
Her chest tight, Alex dropped to one knee and hugged Kamaria. âIâll be back,â she promised. âUntil I return, I need you to help take care of your brothers and sisters.â She brushed a tear from the childâs cheek. âCan you do that for me?â
Kamaria nodded, another tear slipping down her cheek.
Alex straightened. âIâll be back as soon as I can.â
Fariji followed her to the cave entrance. âIt is not safe for you to return to the village. I will go with you.â
âNo.â Alex touched his arm. âStay here and protect the women and children. They have no one else.â
The gentle young man nodded, his brow dipping low. âI will do what I can to help.â
And he always did. Fariji was one of the most loving, selfless men in the village.
Alex hugged him, and then she left the cave and slid down the gravelly slope to the base of the bluff. She figured returning to the village would be dangerous, but she couldnât abandon the missionaries. If she could help, she would, even if it meant risking her own safety.












































