Dying to Score Read Online Free PDF

he'd lost.   She could not lose this man.  Please God, do not let me lose him.
    "So … d'ya hear the one … about the mercenary … who walked into the—"
    "Damn it, Reed," she sputtered, frustrated and afraid for him.   "You do not get to make me laugh, either.   You need to save your breath, not keep my spirits up.   I'm fine."
    And she was.   Because she had to be.   She wasn't going to let her guard down.   She was going to hold on until help arrived because Reed could not, and would not die here.
    "Gambler, Gambler, this is Tinkerbelle," she whispered, cupping her Micom 3 Pathfinder radio mike close to her mouth.   She had to risk raising Doc.   "Do you read me, over?"
    Several silent seconds ticked off before she gave up on Doc and tried Gabe.
    "Angel, Angel, this is Tink.   Do you read me, over?"
    "Nothing?" Johnny asked after more tense seconds slogged by.
    She compressed her lips and shook her head, trying to hide her growing desperation.  
    "Either they're … out of range," he said, "or they … can't respond."
    Which she knew.   Which worried her even more.   If either Doc or Gabe were down, hit by enemy fire, the chances of any of them making it back to the extraction point were about as good as Reed making it an hour without flirting.
    Trouble didn't get any bigger than this.   They weren't dealing with run of the mill hired guns.   They were dealing with Reyes's mercenaries, men who dealt in money and gold and lead.   This was their compound, their ground.   They owned it.   Anyone who came looking for trouble was going to get a face full of it.
    Or in Johnny's case, a shoulder full.
    "How many … left, do you figure?" Johnny asked as his head dropped back heavily onto the dirt.   Once again, his eyes were closed; his jaw was clenched tight in agony.  
    Crystal's chest tightened.   "In this group?   Three, maybe four.   But they're bound to have called in reinforcements from other parts of the camp."
    "You need to … get out of here, Babe.   See if you … can hook up with … Doc and Gabe and … send them … back for me."  
    "You're delirious if you think I'm leaving you here alone.   You can't even shoulder your rifle to defend yourself."
    "Cover me … with leaves.   They'll blow … right by me."
    She shot him a look.   "You're over six feet tall.   There aren't enough leaves in Guatemala to cover you up.   Besides, unless that damn dog finds a rabbit to chase, he's going to sniff you out like rot on rancid meat."
    "Nice analogy," he said on a weak laugh.
    "You know what I meant."
    "I do.   And you're right.   I forgot about … Fido."
    'Fido' was a Rottweiler.   A big one.   So far the drug runners had kept him on a tight leash because they knew exactly where Tink and Johnny were pinned down: fifty yards from a direct hit.
    But Johnny was dead right about one thing.   They had to move out while he still could.   He was fading fast.
    Crystal popped off several quick rounds then back-crawled the two yards down the ridge to his side.   Keeping low, she quickly exchanged her empty magazine for a full one then helped him sit up.   "Come on.   We're getting out of here."
    "Tink—"
    "I'm not leaving you." She cut him off with a sharp look.   "And the longer you lay there and argue with me, the more time we waste."
    He was going with her if she had to drag him out.   Considering he outweighed her by over a hundred pounds, she really did not want to do that.
    He muffled a groan at the pain and the effort but with her help, managed to get to his feet.   Digging deep for strength, she slung his good arm over her shoulder then reached down for his M-4 and shoved it in his good hand.   He couldn't fire it but she might need it before this was over.
    Then feeling like she was carrying roughly a half ton of dead weight, she wrapped her free arm around his waist and headed south.   The extraction point was a good quarter of a mile away through pulsing heat, dense