He took the heavy handset and scanned their surroundings. To their right, a jagged spine of black stone rose out of the jungle floor like a broken tooth. It breached the tree canopy, completely exposed to the gray mist and the valley below. No cover. Just wet, bare rock. If he stayed in the crater, they would all die. If he climbed that rock, every rifle in the valley would be aimed at him.
He didn't hesitate.
“Stay down, kid,” Harlon ordered. “Put your face in the mud, and do not look up until the heat is gone.”
“Where are you going?” Sterling grabbed at his webbing.
“I am going to wake the neighbors.”
Harlon broke from the crater. The movement drew fire instantly. Tracers cut through the torrential rain, snapping the air around his ears and kicking up geysers of mud at his boots. Vines tore at his ankles, but he threw himself at the base of the rock spire and began to climb.
His fingers dug into the jagged stone, slipping on the slick moss. Bullets sparked against the rock face, sending sharp fragments of granite slicing across his cheeks and arms. He ignored the pain, pulling himself higher and higher until he broke through the upper canopy.
He was completely exposed against the gray sky—a solitary figure standing on a pedestal above a sea of hostile green. Below him, the enemy concentrated all their fire on his position.
Harlon pulled a red smoke grenade from his webbing, but the pin was jammed, the mechanism caked in three days of corrosive mud and rust. It wouldn't pop. Swearing, he dropped it and yanked out his Zippo lighter. He sparked the flint once. Twice. On the third strike, a flame held against the howling wind.
He held the flame directly to the emergency flare strapped to his harness. It caught instantly, igniting with a blinding, furious red brilliance.
He didn't throw it. He held it high above his head, turning himself into a glowing red beacon against the monsoon gloom. He keyed the heavy radio handset.
“Command, this is Recon Actual. I have the beacon. Bring the rain.”
The voice on the radio crackled, filled with static and awe. “Recon Actual, we have visual on the red flare. You are inside the blast radius. Repeat, you are danger close.”
“I know where I am!” Harlon screamed over the deafening roar of incoming fire. A bullet grazed his thigh; another shattered the stock of his slung rifle. He stood tall, the flare burning so hot it blistered his hand. “Drop the ordnance on my mark!”