Текст книги "Semper Fi"

Автор книги: Jane Harvey-Berrick

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

“I want you naked, Sebastian,” she whispered.

“I want you to touch yourself between your legs, Caro. I want to see you come.”

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. I was confused—things had been getting pretty hot. Had she changed her mind?

“What?” I asked.

“Sebastian,” she sighed, “I can do that any night of the week; frankly I was hoping you’d do it for me.”

I grinned with relief. “Yeah, but it’ll be a real fucking turn on for me.”

“Alright then, but you, too.”

She’d lost me. “Me too, what?”

“Lose the briefs, get handy, and make yourself come.”

Not what I had in mind, but if that’s what she wanted... “Ah, what the hell.”

I yanked off the skivvies then folded myself into a sitting position, leaning against the wall facing Caro, and started working the head of my dick. Caro watched for a few seconds, which was pretty fuckin’ hot, then she knelt up, spreading her knees wide and began to rub her clit slowly.

That shit was so hardcore. I wrapped my right hand firmly around my dick and started yanking harder; she matched me stroke for stroke, her back arching in a way that nearly made me come. But it wasn’t enough.

“Oh, fuck this,” I snarled.

I launched myself forward, knocking Caro onto her back, and slammed into her, pumping hard.

I was seconds from coming when Caro smacked my shoulder, struggling to push me off.

“Condom!” she hissed.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

I’d been so turned on, I’d totally forgotten the basics. That only ever happened around Caro.

I pulled out of her reluctantly, then fumbled around for my pants, searching for the right pocket where I kept the rubbers. I swore as I dropped the first foil packet, but managed to hold onto the second one, hoping like fuck it was the right way around, otherwise it was going to come off inside her, and we’d been through that shit years before—it hadn’t been fun.

“I’m sheathed up,” I grunted.

Her next words knocked the breath right out of my lungs.

“From behind: make it rough.”

I sure as hell didn’t need to be asked twice.

Caro rolled onto her hands and knees, and I gripped her hip with one hand, my dick with other, took aim, and rammed home for the second time. She cried out, then collapsed onto her forearms, stifling her cries into the pillow. I fucked her as hard as I could, hammering into her body, letting myself go, losing myself in her, just like she wanted, just like she’d asked.

She pushed her ass back against me, and I could hear the slap of my balls against her, over and over again.

I leaned forward, palming her left breast, pinching the nipple until she cried out. Then I reached lower to finger her clit, rubbing my shaft at the same time as it slicked in and out of her. She brought up her hand to meet mine, an insane physical and emotional connection joining us.

I felt her body tremble as her muscles gripped around me, then she collapsed as she came and I had to hook my arm around her waist to hold her up while I released into her, stars shooting behind my eyelids from the intensity.

Caro was gasping for breath and I was breathing harder than a recruit at boot camp. I could feel the sweat on my chest and back.

I pulled out quickly and felt her body flinch.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Apart from the fact I’ll be walking like I just got off my camel tomorrow. You?”

I felt a huge smile break out.

“Yeah, I think I ripped my foreskin—what’s left of it.”

“Really?” She turned around to face me. “Are you okay?”

God, she was too cute for words.

I smiled and stroked her cheek. “Kidding, Caro. That was fucking awesome. You were like some wild woman.”

“You were pretty wild yourself. But you’re right: I don’t know what got into me—other than you, of course. Do you want to go again?”

I stared at her in amazement.

“Christ, Caro! Are you trying to kill me?”

“Hmm, death by orgasm. What do you think? A handful by morning?”

I stared at her, wondering what the hell had happened to my gentle, sweet girl.

“If you want, Caro, but you know what I’d really like to do now?”

“Thrill me,” she teased, stroking her fingers across my damp chest and tugging lightly on my dog tags.

I pulled her into his arms and looked at her seriously. “I want to make love to you, Caro. I freakin’ loved that, but it was just sex. Can we take it slow, baby? Take our time? I want to touch every part of your body.”

And I don’t know how long it will be before we can have a night like this again.

She kissed me softly, and this time, and the time after, I made love to her, showing her with my body the words that never came out right.

Dawn was close when she woke me up. I felt her fingers drifting down my back and across my hip. My dick was definitely awake, but I could tell from the light that there was no chance of doing anything about it before I had to report for duty.

“Time to get up, Sebastian,” she whispered.

I blinked and tried to stretch, but ended up kicking the door again.

“Very stealthy, Marine,” she laughed as I sat up to search for my clothes.

“Yeah,” I grinned at her, “trained in stealth, camouflage and concealment, baby.”

“You were certainly concealed in me last night,” she murmured. “Several times, I seem to remember.”

“Did ya lose count, baby?” I smirked.

She shook her head, her eyes bright and teasing.

“By the way,” she asked, “how come you’re managing to get in here without anyone noticing you’re not where you’re supposed to be?”

I frowned. “It’s not that hard—I’m kind of separate from everyone. I’m on attachment so none of them know me; I’m in charge of the other interpreters, but they’re all Afghan, so I’m not part of that either. It was different when I was still with my Unit, but this way no one knows when or where I’m on duty. Except Grant, and he’s got more to worry about than where I sleep. Works out pretty well, huh, Caro?”

I couldn’t figure out why she looked so sad. Was she worried about me? But then she smiled and leaned forward, resting her lips against mine.

“Time to move your ass, Sebastian”, she said, running her fingers over my short hair. “I’ll see you later?”

I dressed, kissed her again quickly, then darted out through the door, keeping low until I was out in the courtyard, casually greeting some of the other guys who were either waking up or coming off watch.

I was trying to keep the huge ass smile off of my face, but I guess I failed because Chiv came up to me, one eyebrow raised.

“You’re lookin’ as happy as a pig in shit. What’s with that, Seb?” He looked over my shoulder in the direction of Caro’s room. “Y’all been visitin’ with the very lovely Ms. Journalist?”

“What are you yakking about, Chiv?” I tried really hard to look puzzled; it didn’t work.

He grinned at me and winked. “You dog. Wouldn’t mind some of that action myself, if the lovely lady is puttin’ out.”

I couldn’t stop myself grabbing the front of his uniform and getting in his face.

“Don’t talk about her like that!” I snarled.

The idiot just grinned at me. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Seb; I’m just messin’ wit ya! You two been givin’ each other the glad-eye ever since y’all got here. Gotta say it’s pretty damn obvious.” He pulled my hands off of his jacket. “But maybe that’s just ‘cause I know ya. Don’t stress it—your secret is safe with me.” He patted me on the shoulder. “But y’all might wanna quit accostin’ your fellow Marines in the quad.”

He strolled away laughing to himself as I took a deep breath. Shit, he was right.

I lined up for chow and chewed my way through something that may or may not have been chicken, then it was time for the morning briefing.

Caro was being sent out with Lieutenant Sanders today. I didn’t know him that well, but he seemed like a good guy. I was with Jankowski again, leading a team into the foothills to see if we could get some more intel on what the Taliban knew about our movements—in particular about Gal Agha. Hopefully, nothing.

The other news was that there would be a fresh food drop in the early evening. We all looked forward to that. Apart from anything else, there would be fresh water as well, so we could use up the old rations and everyone got a one minute shower—barely long enough to do more than turn the dusty dirt that coated our bodies into mud.

But small things like that made a big difference to morale. There was going to be a letter drop, as well, but I never got any mail; well, a card from Ches’s mom and dad—usually about a month after my birthday, depending where I was on tour. No biggie.

Grant confirmed that yesterday was uneventful, and other than our RPG contact and every guy losing about five pounds in sweat, not much else happened. Although one of the other patrols fired off a few rounds, but that was just to drive away a bunch of locals who were throwing rocks at them. Nice.

I strapped on my body armor and daypack, then slapped on my helmet and scooped up my M16. Jankowski ordered the compound gates to be opened and we filed out cautiously, keeping our eyes on the rooftops for snipers, the dirt under our feet for IEDs, and the foothills in the distance for ambush or RPG attack.

I tried talking to two locals who were standing in the bullet-ripped market, but they ignored me with stony faces, then turned their backs. I heard Jankowski mutter under his breath, “Is that what you call a charm offensive, Hunter?” He was a funny fucker.

Once we got past the last ramshackle building, we were in open countryside. There was no talking, and we were all hyper-aware of our surroundings: that’s how you stayed alive out here.

Two guys were sent ahead to check out a mud-built hovel. There was nowhere big enough to hide a body—I mean a person—so they didn’t go any further than the periphery. Doorways and windows were favorite places to booby-trap.

Some scrawny goats clattered past, nearly giving the guys searching a heart attack at the sudden sound. I could see a kid of about 11 in the distance watching us—probably the goatherd. He ran off when he saw that I’d seen him, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Who was he going to tell?

We walked another couple of miles before we saw any further signs of life. A man with a lined and cracked face of a village elder shouted at us from his tiny house. I could see a collection of barefoot children hiding behind his robes. His teeth were yellow with half of them missing.

He shouted at us, then slammed his door. His words nearly stopped my heart.

“Hunter?”

Jankowski was waiting impatiently for a translation. I swallowed several times, feeling like my throat was just about dry enough to shit sand.

“He asked what kind of cowards brought a woman to do their fighting for them,” I said, trying to hide the concern in my voice.

“You think he means Ms. Venzi?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Ah shit,” he sighed. “The boss was afraid that would happen.”

So was I.

We were the last patrol to return to the compound that evening. I could see Caro sitting across the quad from the entrance and I felt a surge of relief that she was safe. For now.

I went to Grant’s office with Jankowski to report on what I’d heard. The boss was worried and pissed.

“She’ll have to go back to Bastion. I’d get her on the water drop helo but they’re dropping not stopping.” He looked across at Mark. “She’ll need to stay in the compound until HQ authorize a ride, but maybe we can get her on the new personnel flight next week.” Then he turned to me. “Tell Ms. Venzi that I’d like to speak with her.”

I saluted and walked over to where Caro was sitting with a bunch of the younger guys who seemed drawn to her like she was sunshine in winter. I knew how that felt.

“Captain Grant would like to see you, ma’am,” I said, keeping it formal while we had eyes on us.

She stood up immediately, reading the stiffness in my body, and she didn’t ask any questions.

Grant’s office seemed appropriately gloomy. I stood to one side as he waved her into the only other unoccupied chair in the room.

“Ms. Venzi, your presence is causing some interest among the local population,” he announced, cutting right to the chase. “Hunter heard some talk while on patrol that concerned him.”

She glanced at me quickly.

“And what does this talk say?” she prompted.

“At the moment it’s vague, but the news of having a woman with us will spread quickly now. We have a new medic arriving in six days, so the helo will be putting down briefly. If you become a person of interest, as I think you will, you’ll be at risk and you’ll be putting my men at risk, too. I want you on that flight, Ms. Venzi. And until then, for your safety, you’ll remain in the compound.”

I saw her shoulders tighten and she took a deep breath.

“I see. Well, thank you for being so candid and explaining the situation to me, Captain Grant. I’ll ensure that I get as much work done as I can, and I’ll be ready to leave when you advise.”

The boss looked relieved; perhaps he’d expected her to argue, but there was no way Caro would be selfish while chasing down a story if it meant putting guys in danger. Hopefully she’d still be able to write her articles even if she wasn’t in Now Zad.

She stood up and let me escort her from the office.

“Sorry, baby,” I said quietly.

“That’s okay,” she replied, her voice tired. “I don’t want to cause more problems out here. Besides, I can get some stories from Leatherneck so the paper won’t be shortchanged.”

“If anything happened to you…” I began.

She interrupted me quickly. “I told you, Sebastian, I’m not going to take risks. If you care about me, you won’t either.”

“If I care about you?” I snapped, my temper flaring.

“You know what I mean,” she said calmly, “and keep your voice down.”

There were too many people watching us, so I zipped my lips and left Caro outside her room, trying—and failing—to keep my eyes off her.

We’d just finished chow and I was sucking down the piss-weak coffee, when Sanders reported that the helo would be here soon.

“Supply chopper on its way,” he announced, then picked out a platoon to retrieve the goodies before the locals decided to put their thieving hands all over it.

A few minutes later, we heard the distinctive thrum of the Black Hawk’s twin engines chewing up the air around it, and small parachutes began raining down.

Once the swag had been collected and relocated to the compound, guys gathered around to sort out the supplies: ammunition, water, fresh rations, but only a small bag of mail and no parcels. I wasn’t surprised by that—water was heavy and took up a lot of room. Larger items of mail would have to wait their turn or be stockpiled at Leatherneck.

Suddenly, my name was called.

“Hunter: you got mail, sir,” and one of the younger guys I hadn’t met yet waved a thin envelope at me.

There was no return address on it so I wondered who the hell it was from. I pulled it open and started reading.

My beautiful boy,

I hope I can see you reading this, because I want to watch as your eyes darken with lust and your lovely mouth widens in a smile, and maybe you’ll shift uncomfortably as your glorious cock hardens, pushing against the rough khaki of your uniform. Because then I’ll be imagining the moment I take you inside my mouth or inside my body, your breath hot on my back as your naked flesh…

My eyes widened in shock, followed by a grin that I couldn’t hide as I glanced up to see Caro watching me, a knowing smile on her face. She winked at me, then carried on helping sort the mail, although I could see she was still watching me from under her lashes.

I read through the whole letter, sitting in the dirt, leaning against the mud wall of the compound. Hot damn, my girl really was good with words. I was so fucking turned on, so happy that she’d written to me so I had something of her to keep by my side, so fucking grateful to have her in my life. I closed my eyes and let my head rock back against the mudbrick wall, imagining everything that she’d written.

Then one of the other guys scrunched up his own letter and dropped it in the dirt.

“What’s up man?”

“Fucking ‘dear John’ letter,” he answered bitterly. “She said she didn’t want to spoil my last few days of leave, so she thought she’d wait till I got out here to tell me she was seeing someone else. Bitch.”

Yeah, pretty much every one of us knew what that felt like. Girls went for the uniform—not so much the months of being left behind with an empty bed and time on their hands. Some couldn’t help the constant worrying, they said. Another reason for not getting attached, although that had all changed for me now.

The sun had sunk behind the mountains and the compound was shady for once. I was just thinking I should check on my terps and call into the comms room when the guard on duty in the observation post yelled loudly.

“Incoming!”

Everyone scrambled for their body armor and weapons. I slapped my helmet over my head and yanked on my Kevlar vest, but I lost sight of Caro and my heart lurched.

The first RPG exploded about 200 yards outside the compound and a spray of dirt rocketed 90 feet into the air.

I grabbed my M16 and ran to the nearest observation post. Then the durg-durg of the heavy machine guns started.

Another RPG exploded: 100 yards this time. Looked like the Taliban gunner was getting his sights lined up. Not fucking good. But there weren’t any further shots and I wondered if it was just to stop us from getting any downtime. If that was the reason, I was a little surprised that they didn’t wait until night time so they could disturb our sleep: fucking amateurs.

Before the all-clear had been called, I ran to Caro’s room and stuck my head around the door, making her cry out in fright.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yes, fine. Don’t worry about me,” she replied breathlessly.

I nodded and sprinted to the comms room.

I guess I’d spoken too soon, because after that the Taliban had a new tactic: sleep deprivation. Intermittently throughout the night, they’d fire random RPGs that never landed near enough to be dangerous, but stopped the guys getting any rest. Not that sleeping in body armor was that easy anyway—at least not until complete exhaustion had set in.

I spent the night in the comms room listening to a combination of insults broadcast in broken English, threats of what they’d do if they captured us, plus two terrorist cells talking to each other.

By dawn, we were all tired and pissed.

Guys were starting to line up for breakfast when I heard some of them singing the old Beatles classic ‘I’m So Tired’—the lines that said the guy had his mind on the blink because he hadn’t slept a wink.

When I looked out of the comms room, nine fuck-ugly Marines were singing and grooving, surrounding a smiling Caro who was singing along with them and shaking her hips. More guys joined in, making me want to punch the ones who were staring at her ass, but then Grant appeared from his office, and even he couldn’t help smiling. I didn’t know the guy had teeth.

I nearly choked when the boss threw Caro a salute and she waved back. Only my gal. Damn, I was proud. Yeah, I may have mentioned that before.

The patrols that day were kept short. At least I had the satisfaction of knowing that Caro would be safe in the compound—well, as safe as Helmand Province got. I was sent out with Sanders and an EOD operator to check out if there was any unexploded ordnance from the night’s RPG attacks. The guy wore his dog tags on his boots because he said that those would be the only things left if an IED took him out.

I hadn’t been there long when Jankowski arrived with orders to join him and his unit in another patrol to the foothills. I left my best terp with Sanders, a 17 year old kid named Gawhar. I trusted him more than the others; he seemed solid, but that wasn’t saying much.

We pushed further into the hills, only turning around when we started losing the light. We’d stopped for a five minute break to give us a chance to drink some water and eat an energy bar. Chiv had been listening in on the portable radio when he waved me over.

“Fuck man, you need to hear this.”

As I listened, all the blood drained from my face. A Taliban cell was gloating that they’d killed an ‘Infidel’ journalist. I thought I was going to be sick. It was only when I heard the words ‘Kandahar’ and ‘Bastian’ repeatedly, that I realized that they weren’t talking about Caro.

Chiv radioed back to the compound when he saw the look on my face, just to check Caro was safe.

We booked it back quick march anyway. Seeing her sitting outside in the quad was the best fucking sight ever. I breathed out a deep sigh of relief, hating that I couldn’t go to her, and stood with the other guys as the kitchen re-opened to heat up some shitty chili-flavored MREs.

I’d just started eating when Grant ordered me into the office and told me to sit down. That was a first.

“Seb,” he began. Fuck, if he was using my first name it must be serious. “You met the journalist Elizabeth Ashton. Correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I understand she was a friend of Ms. Venzi’s.” Was? “Ms. Ashton was killed by sniper fire near Camp Bastian today,” he said, his voice cold and angry. “It’s a publicity killing. They know she was a journalist and the fact that she was a woman makes it even more newsworthy. The locals know that Ms. Venzi is here—I wouldn’t be surprised if the Taliban have already put two and two together and figured out she’s journalist.”

No! NO! NO!

Then Grant looked at the radio operator.

“How soon can we get a helo in?”

We waited while a flight was arranged for oh-six-hundred hours, then Grant turned to me.

“Send Ms. Venzi in. She should know that her friend … she should know.”

“Yes, sir.”

When I went to find her, Caro could tell by the look on my face that something was wrong.“

What is it? What’s happened?”

“Grant wants to see you,” I said, ignoring the curious gazes from the other men.

She stood up stiffly and followed me into the office.

“Please take a seat, Ms. Venzi,” Grant said gently. “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you … I told you yesterday that we picked up some veiled threats to you; well, it’s become much more direct. The Taliban have heard that you’re with us—and they’re viewing you as a prize kill.”

For fuck’s sake! Did the asshole have to say it like that?

“They’re aware of the value of publicity,” he continued, “and I’m afraid earlier today, they killed another journalist—a woman. I’ve called in a helo to evacuate you back to Leatherneck as soon as possible first thing in the morning. Ms. Venzi? Ms. Venzi?”

Caro looked up at him, stunned. “Who?”

“Excuse me?”

“Who was the journalist they killed?”

Grant glanced over to me.

“Liz Ashton,” I said gently.

Caro dropped her head into her hands, and I could see her fighting back tears.

“I’m sorry,” Grant said uncomfortably.

Caro looked up and nodded slowly. “She was my friend.”

“I’m sorry,” Grant said again, “but we can’t risk our mission here and…”

He bit off what he was going to say.

“How did she die?”

Grant looked away, leaving it to me to give her the gory details.

“Sniper,” I said. “She died instantly.”

I didn’t know if that was true, but it’s what we always said to families and friends. No one needed to hear that their son or brother had died screaming in agony with his legs and arms blown off and his stomach lying on the floor in front of him. You didn’t forget that shit. Ever.

Grant tried to say something comforting, but I don’t think Caro heard him. She walked out of his office, and I started to reach for her but she ignored me and walked past.

I wasn’t sure what to do—what she’d want me to do. But Grant made the decision for me.

“Give her ten minutes then check on her, Seb.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’d never been more happy to obey an order.

I gave it five minutes, then headed for her room. When she didn’t answer, I tapped on the door and pushed it open.

Caro was curled up in the corner, her arms wrapped around the knees, muttering the same words over and over again.

“Put out the light, then put out the light.”

It didn’t make sense to me at first because there weren’t any lights in her room. And then I recognized it as a line from Shakespeare. I didn’t know which play and I didn’t care. My girl was hurting and there was nothing I could do.

I shut the door behind me quietly, then sat down next to her, pulling her into my arms. I didn’t speak, I just rocked her gently, dropping soft kisses into her hair.

After a while, I felt her body relax against me, curling into my chest.

“I’m so sorry, Caro,” I said quietly. “I know she was your friend.”

She didn’t reply, so I just held her.

Night fell and the room was filled with shadows and darkness. Outside, I could hear the sounds of men changing watch and I sighed. “I’d better go, or Grant will wonder what the hell we’re doing.”

I shifted her off my lap and started to stand up, but she grabbed hold of my hand.

“Don’t go, Sebastian, please. It doesn’t matter who knows about us now—I’m being sent home anyway. Let me spend my last few hours with you.”

I sank down again. “I was hoping you’d say that,” I admitted.

I didn’t care if it fucked up my career: Caro needed me, that was what mattered

We lay on the mattress, fully dressed, our arms and legs tangled together.

“I’m not very good at gardening,” she said thoughtfully.

I was confused by her random comment.

“What’s that, baby?”

“I can’t grow things,” she muttered into my chest. “Plants seem to wither when they see me. Can you grow things?”

“I don’t know, Caro. I’ve never tried.”

“I’d like to plant something,” she whispered, “see it live and grow.”

Now I understood: she wanted to make a garden, create life; a way of evening up the balance of loss in some small way.

I pulled her against me more tightly and stroked her hair.

“Does your place in Long Beach have a backyard?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “It could be pretty. Remember Signora Carello’s bougainvillea? Maybe we could grow something like that.”

I kissed her hair again. “Baby, I can’t even spell bougain … whatever it is, but I guess I could try. Was that the purple stuff?”

She nodded.

“Okay, baby. We can grow purple stuff.”

“And pink?”

“Sure, baby, with yellow fucking stripes if you want.”

“Okay.”

I was hoping she might sleep after that weird-ass conversation, but she didn’t. I lay watching her, but every now and then I’d see the glint of moonlight in her eyes and know that she was awake.

As dawn started to filter through the compound, I sat up slowly, pushing the tiredness away.

Caro didn’t speak as she packed up her gear, so I watched in silence.

“I’ll miss having you here,” I said, at last. “But I’m glad you’re getting the fuck out of this shithole.”

She wrapped her arms around my waist and leaned into my chest.

“Just come home safe, Sebastian. No heroics, please.”

“The only thing you’ve got to worry about is when I self-combust, especially if you’re going to send more letters like that one you wrote me yesterday.”

My dumb joke fell flat, and she tugged at my uniform.

“I mean it. Stay safe.”

I sighed and nuzzled her hair, treasuring the scent that was all woman, all Caro.

“I’ll do my best, baby. Promise.”

Then I lifted her chin with one finger and kissed her soft lips.

“Fuck, I’m going to miss you, Caro.”

“I love you, tesoro. So much.”

I held her face between my hands and gazed into her eyes so she’d know that I meant what I said. “Sei tutto per me.”

You mean the world to me.

She smiled sadly, so much love in her tear-filled eyes. But our moment was over, and it was time to go.

I carried her bag out to the quad, ignoring the stares of the other Marines. Grant and Sanders came out to shake hands with her, and several of the other guys that I’d seen her talking with over the last few days lined up to give her awkward, one-armed hugs. Probably the first and last time that I wouldn’t mind other men touching her.

As soon as we heard the helo, eight armed Marines escorted her to the pickup point 200 yards outside the compound.

Touchdown was less than five seconds and Caro was yanked inside before the helo offered too easy a target to the Taliban squatting in the foothills.

I stood and watched the bird leave. I didn’t wave.

Grant called me into his office immediately. I thought it might have been to ask me how well I knew Caro, but I guess now she was out of sight and not his responsibility, she was out of mind.

“Seb, we’ve got to move up the mission. I want you ready to move out in an hour. The Taliban know way too much about our movements. Jankowski and 14 men will go with you. Daypack for three days—leave everything else here.”

“Yes, sir.”

I saluted and headed back. I hadn’t really unpacked, so it didn’t take long to lay out what I needed for the next few days. But when I felt the crinkle of paper in my pocket from Caro’s letter, I knew what I had to do.

I was going to try my damndest to make it back, but it was never guaranteed and this mission .... I wanted to come back, I wanted to live, more than I ever had in my whole life. But if I didn’t…

I pulled out a small notebook and stub of pencil and started to write, the words coming painfully, not just because I was out of practice with putting lines on paper.

Caro, my love,

Just writing these words makes me happier than I can remember being for a very long time—ten years, in fact.

I’m not one for words—I leave that to you—my beautiful, talented Caro. But we’ve had the news we were waiting for and soon we’ll be heading out. I hope you never read this letter, but if you do, it means I’ve gone on to the next big adventure.

Knowing that you are in the world and wearing my ring, makes me the happiest man alive, and the last two weeks have been the best and happiest of my whole life.

Be happy, Caro, because that’s what you deserve.

I love you, I have always loved you, and wherever I go after this world, I will always love you. Sempre e per sempre.

Sebastian

Then I folded it up and went to the comms room to scrounge an envelope from Chiv.

He was checking over his portable Satcomms radio.

“Are you coming with us, man?”

He nodded, his face serious. “And that ain’t all. The boss is steamin’ ‘cause some ANA just turned up and he’s been ordered to send them with us.”

“What the fuck? Seriously? This is supposed to a fucking top secret mission!”