Long Road Home: A pulse racing action thriller you won't want to put down. (Sam Pope Series Book 3) by Robert Enright

Long Road Home: A pulse racing action thriller you won't want to put down. (Sam Pope Series Book 3) by Robert Enright

Author:Robert Enright [Enright, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2019-10-07T16:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ten Years Earlier…

The repetitive thud of the helicopter propellers was as welcoming as it was hypnotic, and Sam fell to his knees as they approached. The heat was unbearable, the unprotected sun relentless beating down upon the small village of Chakari, in the Kabul Province of Afghanistan. Around him, the seven dead bodies of the Taliban soldiers lay scattered, all of them slowly rotting in the baking sun. Sam had been trapped behind enemy lines, the shrapnel removed from his leg and waist by a local doctor, a man who had given his life to save him.

Through the pain and the searing heat, Sam’s recollection of events was hazy.

There had been an explosion.

He’d lost someone close to him.

Sam had been left for dead.

As he tried to clear the fog that had settled over the last few days, he smacked his lips, trying to find hydration. His body ached, the bandages wrapped around his midriff were stained with blood. He felt a constant throb in his leg, and he thought of Lucy.

He’d almost died out here.

Alone in the heat.

The Taliban would never have returned his body to her, she would never have known what had happened. All she would have got was a knock on the door from Marsden, an apology and a cheque.

But Sam had refused to die, fighting through the pain barrier and eventually, the local Taliban unit that had been terrorizing the village.

They were dead.

Dr Farhad Nabizada was dead.

Now, as the chopper slowly lowered itself to the sandy clearing, Sam realized how close he truly had been to joining them. The engine roared, the propellers sweeping up gusts of sand, coating the entire area. At the controls, the pilot gently lowered it to the ground, before reaching up to the control panel and flicking a myriad of switches. The door slid to the side, and Sergeant Carl Marsden leapt from the helicopter, racing across the sand to Sam.

‘Sam. Jesus,’ Marsden said, dropping to his knees in front of him and wrapping his arms around him. Sam winced with pain but relented, his eyes watering at the comfort. ‘We thought you were a goner.’

Sam wearily smiled.

‘You can’t get rid of me that easily.’

‘Can you walk, son?’ Marsden asked, refusing to let go of him. Sam nodded and Marsden clambered to his feet, easing Sam up as slowly as he needed. Both men were covered in dust as they got to their feet and Marsden draped Sam’s arm over his shoulder, letting him dictate the pace. Each step was gingerly followed by the next, the heat and pain taking its toll on Sam. Marsden glanced around the campsite, the bullet-riddled bodies of the Taliban were sprawled out in whatever chaotic demise they’d met. Marsden shook his head slightly.

‘You’ve made quite a mess here.’

‘They deserved it,’ Sam said through gritted teeth, watching as his friend Theo emerged from the helicopter with a handheld medikit. ‘They killed a good man.’

‘Well, they almost killed another one,’ Marsden replied, gently patting Sam on the back.



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