Текст книги "Semper Fi"

Автор книги: Jane Harvey-Berrick

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

We talked shit about baseball, a sport we’d both played in high school, and ate some indeterminate meat in a spicy sauce—goat, probably.

I kept an eye open for Caro’s return, taking notice of the other members of the Press Corps who used the Mustafa hotel as their base.

I didn’t see Caro, but the British woman sailed into the bar, scaring a few of the locals. I was glad she was here, because it meant Caro had the room to herself. I gave it five minutes then headed up.

I knocked quietly on the door, and immediately heard hushed voices.

Shit? She had someone in there with her? I hadn’t seen the British woman leave the bar, although it had gotten pretty crowded.

“Yes?”

Yep, the Brit’s voice.

“Ma’am, I’m looking for Lee Venzi?”

There was another muted conversation, then the door swung open and I stepped inside quickly.

Caro stared at me, a small frown on her face.

“Sebastian, you’ve met my friend Liz Ashton.”

“Yes,” I said, nodding stiffly at the disgusted expression on the British woman’s face.

“Hunter,” she replied icily.

Caro rubbed her forehead.

“I’m sorry about this, Liz, but can you give us some time alone?”

The Brit snorted and shook her head, muttering something that sounded like, “bloody fool”.

I wasn’t sure if she meant me or Caro—both, probably.

“Two hours, Lee,” she said, glancing at her watch with zero subtlety. “I’ll be downstairs in the bar if you need me.”

She threw me an accusing look and left.

Caro was clearly mad at me, so my cunning plan was to kiss the hell out of her.

I pulled her into my arms and kissed her hard, my tongue in her mouth and my hands pressing into the flesh of her ass. She responded quickly, a surprised gasp huffing out as her hands wrapped around my neck, pressing her body against mine, chasing all thoughts but one from my overheated brain and desperate dick.

Then she pushed me away, her eyes bright with anger and lust, her cheeks flushed.

“What the hell are you doing, Sebastian?”

I shrugged and grinned at her. “I thought I’d kiss you before you yelled at me. Guess it didn’t work.”

“You think this is a joke?” she snapped, her voice rising with anger. “First David, now Liz. Why don’t you just skywrite it?”

I hated hearing that bastard’s name on her lips.

“What did the asshole say to you?”

She sighed. “He’s not going to tell anyone—he was really nice about it.”

He was ‘nice’ to her? What did that fucker want? I didn’t trust him any further than I could throw him.

“Liz won’t say anything to anyone either—I’ll just have to listen to her chewing me out later. But I’d have much rather she didn’t know just now—she’s my work colleague. You’ve got to stop taking these risks, Sebastian. For my sake, if you won’t do it for yourself.”

I grimaced. I hadn’t thought about it like that. Shit, I should have.

“I’m sorry, Caro. I just go a little crazy around you.”

She didn’t look happy.

“Well, you have to get it under control. Now please, please tell me your assignment to Ryan Grant is temporary.”

“Fuck! I was wondering why they’d seated you next to him. Are you embedded with him? Shit!”

Her mouth twisted in a wry grimace.

“Exactly my thoughts. He can’t know, or it’ll really screw things up for both of us—well, mainly for me. Sebastian, you’re going to have to act like you did in Geneva, as if you still dislike me—or at the very least, ignore me. Can you do that?”

Probably not.

“Fuck, Caro,” I sighed. “Yes, I can do it. But I’ll hate every fucking minute of it.”

She gave me a small smile.

“At least if we’re in the same Camp, I’ll know what you’re doing and that you’re safe.”

“Same goes for you. Yeah, there is that. And we might get a chance to … hook up?”

Her eyes darkened, but she shook her head.

“No, too dangerous. You can’t risk it and I definitely can’t risk it. Grant isn’t an idiot.”

“No, he seems on the ball.”

“On the plus side, Grant already thinks you dislike me.”

That was news to me. “Because…?”

“Liz: she mentioned that we’d met in Geneva, and at that stage, she still thought you were an ass. Well, that hasn’t changed, but just a different sort of ass now.”

I felt a reluctant smile pulling my lips upward.

“An ass?”

“Big time.”

I leaned against the door, smiling down at her.

“What happened with your little friend, Natalie?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

I frowned with instant irritation.

“She’s no fucking friend. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, and then Grant kicked me out because of her.”

“What did he say to you?”

Yeah, didn’t want to repeat that conversation.

Caro shook her head. “Oh, well, never mind—I can guess. She didn’t look pleased either—I think she was planning to have you for dessert. Was it you who told her to cover up?”

“Yeah, not that it made any difference.”

“She must have listened to someone. At least you tried. And you are very trying, Warrant Officer Hunter. Part of me wants to slap some sense into you…”

“And the other part?” I asked, licking my lips automatically, like some fucking starving dog.

“Well,” she said, running a finger down the front of my uniform, “I was wondering what we could do for the next…” she checked her wristwatch, “…115 minutes?”

One hundred and fifteen minutes: was that all we had? It was never enough. It was just never fucking enough. I closed my eyes, the familiar fear pumping through me. I was losing her again.

“What’s the matter, tesoro?” she asked quietly.

“I really fucking hate this, Caro. We’re always running in different directions, we’re always running out of time. I just want to wake up with you in my arms every day.”

She sighed, her expression sad.

“I know, Sebastian, and I feel the same. But it won’t be like that forever—we will be together. We just have to be patient.” Her warm fingers stroked my cheek, “And for now, we have 113 minutes left.”

My eyes snapped open.

“Fuck!”

Suddenly we were tearing at each other, touching and tasting and fighting to get free of our clothes. So many damn buttons. Fucking uniform!

“Damn it, Caro,” I groaned, as she pressed her bare skin against me.

I backed her toward the bed, my dick pushing against her. She fell onto the hard mattress and then burst into laughter.

“What?”

“The whole pants around the ankles thing—it’s not a great look.”

I grinned as I toed off my shoes. Yeah, probably not my smoothest moves.

“Guess I’d better lose the socks, too.”

“Definitely.”

As Caro stared up at me, I pulled off the rest of my uniform, tossing it to the other side of the room and stood beside the bed, staring down at her, my dick as rigid as a divining rod.

“You like what you see, Caro?”

She nodded, silent now. I tried to get the words out, to explain what this moment with her meant to me.

“After tonight, well, we don’t know when … so I want you to remember me like this … when you look at me—see me like this, wanting you.”

I gripped my dick and stroked myself, letting the insane attraction that I had for this woman, the intense, terrifying love flood through me.

“And when I look at you, this is what I’ll be thinking about: close your eyes.”

She let her eyelids flutter close, and I sat at the bottom of the bed, gently pulling her legs apart as I kissed up her thighs.

My lips pressed against the damp curls of her pussy.

“This is me telling you that your body is mine.”

I dipped my tongue inside her, tasting and teasing, and she moaned and arched against me.

“This is your body telling me that I am yours.”

I nipped at her clit, and her hands tried to grip onto my short hair, instead pressing the flat of her hands against my head and forcing me deeper inside her.

“This is me saying that we need to be together.”

I stroked inside her with my fingers and she climaxed quickly.

“And that’s your body agreeing with me.

Her hands dug into my shoulders as she gasped, trying to slow her breathing. I sat up, pulling a condom out of my pants pocket and rolling it on quickly, resentful of the time it took me away from her.

Then I moved back onto the bed, my body hovering over hers. Caro’s eyes locked on mine, and she pulled her knees upward, creating a nest for me to settle my hips between her thighs.

I pushed inside her slowly, gritting my teeth with the pleasure that coursed through me, fighting the base urge to fuck her to a standstill.

Caro arched her back, then pulled my face up to hers, kissing me softly.

“And this is me saying that you’ve come home,” she whispered.

Her words brought tears to my eyes. Home: that word had never meant much to me before, but now it meant everything. Caro was my home—wherever she went, that was where I was meant to be. Forever.

The feeling was overwhelming: emotionally, physically, mentally. I answered her with my body, moving faster, moving deeper, taking her again and again, my dick thickening and heating inside her until I couldn’t hold on, coming hard and fast.

I rested on top of her body, my heart racing furiously. But then she pushed on my shoulder gently, and I just had enough presence of mind to realize that I was crushing her. I rolled onto my back, taking her with me so she was resting on my chest, her hair sweeping across my face and neck.

We stayed in each other’s arms, peaceful and silent for now.

Suddenly, an explosion erupted outside, rattling the windows of the hotel. Even as I was yanking Caro to the floor, on the side of the bed away from the window, I was calculating the likely distance of the blast, what kind of IED it might be, and whether there would be more explosions or gunfire. I counted to ten, but all I could hear was the sound of alarms from cars and buildings, voices shouting. I stood cautiously, moving to the side of the window and pulling the curtain open a fraction so I could peer out.

“Probably a car bomb—about half a mile away.”

Caro was still shivering on the floor, her eyes wide, but she didn’t look like she was going into shock.

“It’s okay, Caro. We’re okay.”

And we were, for now, but we both knew that luck could run out—especially in a warzone. Soldiers died every day, hundreds of civilians a week, and journalists, too. Lady Luck was a callous bitch.

I wanted Caro out of here, I wanted…

Caro stood up hesitantly, her naked body hardening my dick even as the sound of ambulances tore the night. But she was staring toward the window, and even though my body was reacting to her, I knew that wasn’t what she needed from me now—I wasn’t a fucking caveman. Well, not all of the time.

“Caro, are you okay, baby?”

“Yes, I suppose so. Just knowing that out there … you’ll be facing that soon.”

I held her in my arms, tight against my chest, willing to lay down my life for this woman, here and now.

“Christ, I know that, Caro, and it kills me to know that you’ll be out there, too. Please, baby, please, go home while you still can. I’m fucking begging you, Caro!”

I buried my face in her hair, breathing in her scent, glad to hold her but wishing she was gone.

“Please, baby. I need to know you’re safe. If anything happened to you now…”

Her arms crept around my neck, pulling my head down for a kiss.

“I have a job to do, Sebastian, you know that,” she whispered as her lips brushed across my cheek. “So do you; and I will worry about you every day. I pray to God that you’ll come home to me. Please, tesoro, promise you’ll look after yourself—no unnecessary risks?”

I sighed. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear—I wanted her to tell me she was catching a flight back to the US. I knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“I promise, Caro,” I said, my voice resigned.

“Then come back to bed with me,” she said, tugging my hand.

The night was slipping away too fast.

I let her lead me to the bed, then rested on my back as she wrapped her body around me. I was aware of every ticking second, every beat of her heart. When I felt her fingers brushing over my chest and stomach, I knew she was trying to distract me from my morbid thoughts. It was working.

My dick hardened again. Always again with her; it was never enough. She glanced down and her lips turned upward in an amused smile.

“Sebastian, if that’s what I have to imagine every time you look at me, I’m not going to get any work done.”

I smiled and kissed her hand.

“Let’s go back to Signora Carello’s place for our honeymoon, Caro. We could fuck for days without getting out of bed.”

If she wanted to pretend that the morning would never come, I’d do my damndest to hold onto the night.

She smiled and raised her eyebrows.

“What, you think she could just push food under the door so you can keep your strength up, because I have to say, Sebastian, you were getting a bit out of breath just now. I really thought the US Marines had higher standards of fitness: I might have to write about that in my next article. Of course, the research is incomplete—I’ve only documented one Marine’s fitness levels in detail…”

“And it’s going to stay that way,” I said firmly.

She laughed, and it sounded almost real.

“Feeling threatened? Me alone with all those horny Marines, I’m quoting, of course.”

“Not funny,” I grumbled.

“Okay, I won’t tease you. Yes, we could go back to Signora Carello’s, but there are lots of other places I’d like to see in Italy. Florence, the open air opera in Rome—I’d love to do that. But you know, I really like the idea of taking your old motorcycle and seeing upstate New York. What do you want to do?”

“Other than have a lot of sex?”

She laughed out loud, raising her eyebrows at me and shoving on my shoulder.

“My God! That’s exactly the same answer you gave me ten years ago when you were a horny teenager!”

“So? I’m consistent: I thought women liked that in men?”

Yep, she couldn’t argue with that.

I ran my hand between her breasts, toying with the chain that held her engagement ring.

“You have the most fantastic breasts, Caro. I can’t stand those fake ones, they just feel so…”

Ah, shit. Being in bed with one woman, and talking about others—not the smartest thing I’d ever said.

I wanted to bite off my damn tongue. But she just smirked at me.

“Hmm, I was thinking, maybe you should be one of those men who are strong and silent. You know, nice to look at, not so good at the talking.”

I nipped her shoulder then twisted around, pushing her into the mattress, letting her know exactly what I thought of that comment. And although she didn’t know it, she wasn’t the first woman to say something like that. I knew she didn’t mean it—but it stung all the same.

“Is that right?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

“Yes. Hearing you talk about your conquests when I’m in a state of post-coital bliss isn’t going to earn you round two.”

“Huh, so I can’t earn round two—does that mean I can pay for it instead?”

She slapped my ass, hard. Hot.

“You couldn’t afford me,” she snarked back.

“You sure about that, baby? What’s your price?”

“What have you got to offer, Sebastian?”

I used my hips to pin her down, my chest hovering over her breasts. “An orgasm?” I suggested.

“That’s just quid pro quo.”

“Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty. What about two orgasms?”

“Two? Beginning to sound interesting, but do you think you’re up to the job?”

I brushed my fingers against her clit and she gasped. “Maybe I’ll let you answer that question,” I said, as I slid down the bed, lowering my face between her thighs.

Over an hour later, we were collapsed on the bathroom floor, flushed and breathless.

“I’d forgotten you had a thing for bathrooms,” she gasped.

I kissed the back of her neck as I tugged her against my chest. “I like the mirrors.”

“You know, that’s a bit kinky, Sebastian.”

“You think? I’d like to get kinky with you, Caro,” I said, nipping her earlobe and running my fingers over her hipbone.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked curiously.

How long had we got?

I decided to start with the basics. “You could tie me up again: that was hot.”

She giggled.

“Hmm, well, I could talk to one of the MPs at Leatherneck—maybe I’ll see if I can borrow a pair of handcuffs, Sebastian.”

I swallowed several times, my mind very much enjoying the thought of fucking Caro while she was cuffed, of her riding my dick while I was cuffed. Fuck me!

I guess Caro was still waiting for my answer, because she nudged me in the ribs with her elbow.

“Yeah, if you like, Caro,” I said, my voice hoarse.

Her eyebrows shot up.

“If I like? What do you like?”

I hesitated, wondering if she’d go along with some of the scenes I imagined when I was jerking off. “There’s some stuff we could try,” I began.

“Such as?” she asked, her expression curious rather than appalled, which was a good start.

But then there was a soft tap at the door and I heard the Brit’s voice.

“Oh, hell,” Caro muttered, sounding disappointed and irritated. “You’d better get dressed, Sebastian, unless a three-way with Liz was one of your fantasies?”

I shuddered. “Fuck, Caro! I’m going to have that image in my head now.”

She grinned and tossed my uniform onto the bed. “Better get your pants on then, Marine.”

I dressed quickly, cursing the number of buttons involved wearing the Blues. I was still sitting on the bed tying my shoelaces when Caro opened the door.

“Lee, I … oh, is he still here?”

“He’s just leaving, Liz.”

The Ashton woman marched into the room, and I winced at the sight of her enormous tits moving independently of each other, reminding me of a camel’s ass.

“There’s a curfew on, Hunter,” she said, crossing her arms and staring at me hard.

“Thanks,” I said coolly.

I already knew about the curfew, but it had probably been brought forward a couple of hours because of the device going off earlier.

“You must have heard the car bomb,” she snapped. “Three dead, multiple injured. Bastards packed the bomb with nails.”

“So evil,” murmured Caro, shaking her head.

The Brit nodded silently, and for the first time I saw the same compassion that drove Caro to report from war zones. I wouldn’t say I liked the Ashton woman, but I could respect the job she did. Although it was pretty clear that it wasn’t mutual; I knew what she thought of me. A week ago it would have been true.

I stood up and fastened the buckle on my white web belt, then pulled Caro into a tight hug, ignoring the Brit’s noisy huffing.

“Remember what I said, Sebastian,” whispered Caro, running the tips of her fingers down my cheek.

“I’ll try, baby. And you remember what I said, what I’m thinking about when I look at you.”

I kissed her softly, unwilling to let her go, hating that I had to, desperate to know that she’d be safe, hating that she wasn’t.

“Never take my ring off, Caro,” I said.

“Ti amo tanto, Sebastian.”

I smiled painfully. “Sempre e per sempre.”

I glanced briefly at the Brit, and then quietly left.

At least I knew I’d see Caro tomorrow.

We were heading to Camp Leatherneck, 350 miles away along the Kabul–Kandahar Highway, one of the most dangerous roads in the world.

The Russians, the Taliban, and now us—it all added up to three decades of war and neglect, leaving the road that connected Afghanistan’s two main cities in ruins. Uncle Sam had funded the rebuilding of three-quarters of the route, with Japan chipping in another chunk of cash. It was currently in slightly better repair than it had been, but it had become a favorite target of the Taliban again—ambushes and IEDs were common.

The guys on point were heavily armed and supported by Explosive Ordnance Disposal Techs whose job was to spot devices before one of our Armored Personnel Carriers rolled over them. Metal detectors weren’t as much use as you’d think because the Taliban used as few metal parts as possible. But tell-tale signs included depressions in the road where a hole had recently been dug and had sunk when it was recovered, or any wires sticking out that might lead to pressure plates.

Being in the middle of the convoy was no picnic either: if a device functioned, we’d be pinned down, prey to ambush. We also had to make it through checkpoints manned by ANA, keeping a covert eye open in case they weren’t as onside with US or International Security Assistance Force as they were supposed to be. Green-on-blue attacks were escalating to the point where each ISAF unit had appointed at least one soldier as a ‘guardian angel’ to act as a lookout—to keep an eye on our Afghan allies. I hoped like hell we made it in one piece.

I saw Caro briefly from a distance, flashing her a quick smile until I remembered that I was supposed to ignore her. But she smiled back briefly before she turned away.

It was comforting and scary as fuck to think that she was just a few vehicles back. I had to force myself to forget that she was there or I wouldn’t be able to do my job—but it was hard. I wasn’t needed on point because the regular terps were being used; instead I had a lot of hours to get to know the guys in my team: the five Afghan interpreters who’d be my responsibility.

As soon as I walked towards them, I knew there was tension in the air. It didn’t take a genius to work out the problem.

“As-salaamu’ alaykum.”

I introduced myself, noting their shock when I spoke their language. It took only a couple of minutes to work out that two of them were Shiite and the other three were Sunni. Both groups prayed to Allah, but that was about all they had in common. Oh yeah, and they both hated Sufis.

Well, this was going to make my job that much harder. I’d have to keep them apart whenever possible. Grant was not going to like it. And I had a feeling it would end up being my fault—definitely my problem.

Aabadar and Fazel were brothers, and very insistent on telling me that their father was Mujahadeen and fought the Russians. Jee-zus—two or even three generations of Afghans who’d known nothing but war.

The noise when we were seated inside the APC made it almost impossible to talk much, which was something of a relief. I separated my guys, distributing them among the leathernecks riding with us. I got some shit for that, but it was all muttered because I could pull rank any time I wanted. Didn’t mean I would, but these bootnecks didn’t know me, so they were ready to show who was boss. Fine by me. I’d come up through the ranks and I knew every trick in the book, and then some.

We all enlist for different reasons. For some, the Marine Corps was a chance to have a real family for the first time in our lives; for others it was a means to an end: learning a trade, or getting a college education; several said they wanted to serve their country, motivated by the events of 9/11. And for a few, it was the last chance to do something that wouldn’t end with a prison sentence.

Once they figured out I was The Man, they muttered and cussed quietly behind my back. I paid my fucking dues for this rank so until they did the same, they should quit their bitching.

The journey to Leatherneck was hell. What would have been a six– or seven-hour journey back home, turned into 15 hours of heat, dust, and a numb ass as the APC ground along the highway. We stopped at several ANA checkpoints, but I wasn’t needed as a terp. Some of the ANA were good guys and I’d worked with a few of them before. They were determined to get rid of the Taliban, and several listened to rock stations on the internet when they could get a signal, which wasn’t often—the Taliban had banned music. All music. At every camp, there was a black market trade in western CDs and DVDs—all things the Taliban considered un-Islamic at best, and satanic at worst.

I was less happy when I saw men in turbans armed with AK-47s at checkpoints. They weren’t regular army, and they watched us pass with cold eyes. It made me wonder if they were phoning ahead to let the Taliban know that a convoy was en route. Hell that had probably happened the second we left Kabul.

The AK-47 was a good weapon. I preferred my M16 because although it had a long barrel, it was two pounds lighter and the magazine was half the weight. But a lot of guys tried to smuggle Russian weapons back to the US when their tour was over as souvenirs. On my last tour, one dickwad had tried to take back a live and very unstable grenade even though it was a federal offense. My flight stateside was delayed by 20 hours while EOD were called and the device neutralized.

Several of the guys on my APC were straight out of boot camp and on their first deployment. They were ready to kick some Afghan ass, so having my five terps traveling with us was unsettling for them—that and seeing the road ahead was torn up where IEDs had been planted and burnt-out cars pushed to the side, abandoned.

I closed my eyes, dozing as best I could.

Leatherneck, our destination, 50 miles west of Kandahar, housed 28,000 British troops at the adjacent Camp Bastion, several thousand Afghan National Army soldiers at Camp Shorabak, and 20,000 US Marines. Altogether, the three sectors must have covered nearly 4,000 acres. Leatherneck, by itself, was bigger than many small towns back home. It was supported by four gyms, a vast dining area that could serve 4,000 people at a time, three chapels—or so I was told. Best of all as far as many of the guys were concerned, there were calling centers where they could phone and email their families back home. The only person I’d ever called was Ches, and that was maybe once or twice a year.

It wasn’t much, but we called it home. Ha fucking ha. That was last tour. This time, I’d be going further into the boonies, staying at Leatherneck for just one night.

I knew that the camp also housed two– or three-thousand female soldiers. In theory they were kept segregated, although I’d managed some hook-ups when I’d been there before. For a while, I’d had a thing with Lieutenant Susie Harris who worked in the spook office with the FBI. Gotta say there’s something about fucking a senior officer. Just saying.

I’d like to try hooking up with Caro, but I knew that would be dangerous for both of us. Didn’t stop me wanting it though.

Once we arrived, hot, stinking and covered in dust and dirt, Grant called the senior non-coms together to organize transit accomm. I was sharing with the two sergeants who so far hadn’t shown much interest in me beyond the basic courtesies. They knew I was on special assignment, which meant they also knew I couldn’t talk about it.

But I didn’t have time to do more than toss my bed roll onto the lumpy bunk before I was ordered to a briefing room for a sit-rep on some new intel at Now Zad.

“Nice of you to join us, Hunter,” Grant said, his voice terse.

I don’t know what had flown up his ass, so I just took a seat out of his eye-line, sweating freely in the intense heat of the old Nissan hut.

“First: you will have noticed by now, gentleman, that we have a journo on embed with us, Lee Venzi. You will extend every courtesy—but say nothing. Is that clear? Keep all interaction to a minimum. And those of you with training in obs will have noticed that she’s a woman, which means someone has completely fucked up. I’ll send her on some routine foot patrols to keep her busy and out of the way.

“Next: there’s been an increase in Taliban radio chatter in the Now Zad area that has all the brass very unhappy, and that makes me very unhappy, which will make you very, very careful. They’re concerned that word of the op has leaked out, but it’s just a hunch at the moment. Hunter, I want you to go through the radio transcripts and see if you can find anything that they’ve missed. Do not go through your terps. Clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

I hated going through transcripts. They were usually translated by semi-literate idiots. It was bound to be a waste of my time if the spooks had already reviewed them. But it was an order, not a request. Didn’t look like I’d get much sleep tonight either. Whatever, I was used to that.

Grant pulled out a map of the area and penciled in the position of known local Taliban that we needed to be aware of, then started going into detail about the Afghan elder we wanted to get on our side and the village where he lived.

“Erik, you’ll be in charge of BGAN satcomms.”

Grant nodded his head at a Lieutenant sitting next to me. I thought his name was Jankowski but I wasn’t sure. As far as I knew, he’d be the guy leading the op.

We’d almost finished the briefing when I looked up and saw Caro escorted by a female PFC. I grinned at her before I remembered I wasn’t supposed to.

Fuck, that was so hard to remember—it just didn’t feel right.

Grant still hadn’t seen her.

“If a guy sticks his head around the corner he could very easily have a gun. If you can’t see his hands, he could have something, a hand grenade, say. Pulling a trigger is easy—we need to bring him in. It’s not about that one person, it’s about the team. I’ll need you to go in first and…”

I coughed discreetly, unwilling for him to say anymore in front of Caro—something that might compromise her safety. Grant threw her an irritated look, but Caro stood her ground.

“I can come back,” she offered calmly.

“No, that’s fine, Ms. Venzi,” Grant clipped out. “We’re done here.”

Grant jerked his head at me in dismissal. I saluted and threw Caro a quick smile as I left. I had 10 minutes before the designated mealtime. I’d rather have eaten with the guys, but maybe Grant wanted me under close supervision. It was going to be hell having Caro so close and not be able to talk to her or touch her.

I showered quickly, shook the dust out of my uniform and pulled on a clean t-shirt. That was as good as it was going to get. Another two days and we’d all stink. Now Zad didn’t have showers, just basic strip and wash facilities, and there weren’t exactly going to be washing machines to clean your clothes. After three days, you couldn’t even smell your own stench anymore.

I was starving by the time we ate our long-delayed evening meal. It was the last fresh food we’d have for a while. You could live off of MRE’s, but that was about all. It amazed me how many different ways they could fuck up meat with gravy. The MRE gum wasn’t too bad.

I was seated with Lieutenant Sanders, the executive officer, and four second lieutenants including Jankowski, at the opposite end of the table from Caro.

I’d been told not to talk to her, but I also knew that if I looked at her I’d give myself away, so I spent most of the meal staring at the food, or gazing into the distance. Even that seemed to piss off Grant, but since I was following orders, there wasn’t much he could do about it.