Mad Max (SEAL Team Alpha Book 12) by Zoe Dawson

Author:Zoe Dawson [Dawson, Zoe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blue Moon Creative
Published: 2020-09-18T18:30:00+00:00

10

Dodger came to with a quick start, his heart hammering and his body feeling like pounded meat. Before he was even fully aware, he pulled the handgun and removed the safety with his thumb.

He moved gingerly, then more rapidly when he realized he wasn’t injured, just stunned. It was quiet, and he peeked his head above the rocks where he’d been hidden. The clearing was empty. He took a few moments to calm his breathing. The good news was there were no bodies. The bad news was that if that was the case, then his teammates and Anna had been captured by unknown enemies.

The chill he felt congealed into real fear. Fear unlike anything Dodger had ever known gripped his brain and damn near paralyzed him. He leaned on the boulders, working at pulling himself together. Panicking would only get Anna and his teammates killed. He couldn’t help them if he wasn’t in control. Using his combat breathing, he slowed his heart rate, pressed the fear back, not gone, but manageable.

It was also clear to him that these bloody bastards had been waiting for them, which probably meant they were the ones who shot Max down and were looking for their dog handler. Did this mean they had him?

He stayed low and skirted the clearing, listening for any movement or conversation, but there was nothing but night sounds.

He rose from his crouch and entered the clearing. There were signs of a scuffle, then footprints leading in the opposite direction from the scratching on the ground. Dodger was sure the markings were from a makeshift litter and that someone had pulled Max out of here. After closer scrutiny, he also found dog prints, bringing a sigh of relief that Jugs was all right, and those of a boot…a smaller print…a woman?

He straightened and turned toward the north where the footprints led. In the distance, without looking at his watch, he could feel dawn approaching. It was something that had become ingrained in him during his SBS days and transferred easily to being a SEAL. They, as a clandestine group, rarely worked missions during the day. Night was their preferred MO, shadow warriors, ghosts, slipping in and out without sound or disturbance until the moment when they struck. Then they were rock-solid, flesh and blood ass-kickers.

All he wanted to do was find his teammates and Anna, flip the script. He couldn’t face his LT if he lost his brothers or look Max in the eyes if he failed to protect his favorite sister. The jungle was steaming—nothing new, the temperatures barely dipped at night. Dodger followed the signs of passing, the arseholes who had his brothers and Anna obviously not caring who could follow or were inept about covering their tracks in the jungle.

The trail was easy to follow, the hacking of the underbrush already accomplished. He was on alert, listening for anyone else and hearing only the squawk of macaws and the occasional white flash of the monkey faces skulking overhead.

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