LITMIR.BIZ

       PROLOGUE

      Aleppo, Syria

      JENNY TALBOT KNEW she was in trouble the moment she heard the sound of approaching aircraft.

      The sound grew thunderous as four planes appeared in the sky over Aleppo, leaving a trail of explosions in their wake. They were heading straight at her.

      A cease-fire was supposed to have been declared while volunteer medical personnel tended the wounded in one of the few remaining makeshift hospitals in the doomed Syrian city.

      The volunteer doctors and nurses, who had just arrived in a marked medical convoy, scattered, seeking cover. She and Rick Cowan, also a freelance journalist, were accompanying them. Although they worked for different news services, they had been together when they heard about the medical mission to Aleppo. It hadn’t been easy to get permission from the supporting agency, but the promise of alerting the world to conditions in a city caught in the cross fire of three ruthless armies finally won them approval. It was emphasized that it was at their own risk.

      So much for cease-fires.

      As explosions grew louder, Jenny and Rick ran for cover with Ali, their driver and translator. All three ducked behind a pile of rubble that had once been a house.

      Jenny instinctively grabbed the camera that hung around her neck and under the hijab she wore to cover her flaming red hair. Out of habit, she took several rapid shots of people fleeing among burning buildings and vehicles. She wanted proof of the violation of the cease fire.

      Ali turned to them. “I go get jeep,” he shouted over the noise, then sprinted around the rubble. Jenny regretted now that he’d hid the jeep several blocks down to avoid thieves.

      A little girl suddenly ran into the road, screaming as another explosion threw rocks and flaming shrapnel in every direction. The girl fell, her arms reaching out as if for help. Jenny saw bright red blood flow from the child’s leg.

      A doctor turned back toward her but he was too far away. Jenny instinctively rose from her position and started to climb over the rubble to go after the child. Rick pulled her down. “Stay here, dammit,” he said. “I’ll go.”

      As he started to scramble over the rubble, she followed. Another group of planes roared over them, raining more fire on the street. Explosions deafened her. Chunks of flaming metal flew through the air. Two cars and an ambulance used by the doctors burst into flames. She struggled to the top of the debris. Dust and smoke was everywhere. She couldn’t see the child.

      “We’ve got to find her,” she said to Rick. A trailing plane came in low and dropped its munitions. The building across the street sustained a direct hit and started to crumple.

      “I have to find the girl,” she shouted to Rick.

      “You’ll be killed out there,” Rick shouted and pushed her down. “Nothing can survive out there right now. They’re pounding that street.”

      She huddled against the rubble as heat seared her, gluing her tan T-shirt to her body. She wore a flak vest over the T-shirt and BDU pants, which she had selected for the additional pockets. The pockets were filled with everything she needed to do her job, from cell phone, notebooks and pens to a small recorder.

      “The hospital?” she asked Rick, just as another explosion tore up the wreckage, only a few yards from them. The heat burned her arm, and the impact threw her back against a pile of debris. Her shoulder felt on fire, the skin burning. She looked down at her shoulder to see metal protruding from a jagged wound. She stared at it for a moment, and then the pain hit.

      Rick uttered a curse as he scooted over to her to study the wound. “I’m afraid if I remove it, you’ll bleed out,” he said. “I’ll try to get one of the doctors. Ali should be back here with the jeep.”

      He

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