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live with himself if he didn’t help this woman, even if it cost him his life.
    Steady. Steady.
    Now!
    He swept his foot and tripped the gunman.
    Arms whirling, the gunman went down. He managed to land on his elbows, but his momentum drove his face into the concrete.
    Big Kid had the satisfaction of seeing the gunman’s nose explode. The pistol clattered away. He gained his feet and lunged for the weapon. He was inches from reaching it when multiple gunshots deafened him. Two hard blows struck his rib cage. Despite being shot twice more, he grabbed the gun and pivot toward the van.
    A fourth bullet nailed him squarely in the stomach.
    Determined to stay in the fight, he brought the handgun up and took aim at the shooter. He squeezed off a shot, but missed. The report hammered his eardrums.
    Like something out of hell, a harbinger of death materialized through the smoke and dust. His eyes grew as a red laser beam swept onto the middle of his torso…
    And stopped.
    His legs quit as the fifth bullet ripped through his large intestine and shattered his spinal column. Paralyzed, he fell forward like an expertly cut tree. His jaw struck the concrete with a sickening crack. Barely conscious, he watched in fury as the gunman ran past him and grabbed the woman.
    The van’s tires squealed as the driver backed up.
    Right on top of him.
    His body contorted into an impossible position when his chest caught on the differential. Crushed beneath the van, he saw the woman’s legs and feet leave the ground as her assailant threw her into the van. He sensed their combined weight added to the vehicle, heard the doors close, and steeled himself for the agony of being dragged.
    The van accelerated and Big Kid’s body bent and broke again. He tried to scream, but couldn’t draw any air into his lungs. Fifty yards further the van hit a speed bump and freed him from the differential. Broken and dying, he tried to call for help. Nothing came out.
    The last thing decorated Enduring Freedom veteran Kiddrich thought as his life ended was, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter 7
     
     
     
    Nathan watched General Hawthorne’s C-20G, more commonly known as a Gulfstream IV, taxi up to the transient parking area in front of the jet center. He knew Harv was thinking the same thing, what a beautiful ship . Thorny had arrived a little early. Nathan’s watch indicated 1147 hours. A minute or two passed before the passenger stairs unfolded from the fuselage. A sharp-looking aide stepped out, surveyed his surroundings, and nodded toward the interior. Thorny ducked slightly as he exited the aircraft. The aide offered him a crisp salute, which was promptly returned.
    It felt good to see his former commander again, even under the circumstances. Thorny’s no-nonsense expression hadn’t changed over the years. He still looked as though the weight of the world remained planted on his shoulders. Nathan had never known the man to back away from a fight. Thorny, nearly eight inches shorter, seemed taller than his actual height. At sixty-two, he didn’t look a day over fifty, except for his hair color, but at least he still had it. His aide looked equally crisp and professional, just thirty years his junior. They were both dressed in summer attire—desert Marine pattern—Thorny’s preferred appearance. Were it not for the four black stars on his rank patch, he could easily pass for a sergeant major, not the Marine Corps’ top dog. Thorny entered through the automatic sliding glass doors, and out of habit they both saluted.
    Their former commander extended his hand. “You’re civilians now. Get your damned hands down.”
    Nathan suppressed a smile. “Aye, aye sir.”
    “Damn, it’s good to see you two.”
    “The same, sir.”
    “Harvey, you’re looking fit as ever.”
    “Thank you, General.”
    “This is my aide, Major Bob Halliday. He’s not a Robert, like me. It actually says Bob on his birth