Page 38

LINDA

"H ey Linda, remember what I said about liking this job for the weather?" Orkin said, the truck bucking violently as it crawled down the ruined road, the undercarriage groaning with each bump.

"Sure do." Linda scanned the terrain around them, trying to peer through the mist and rain that was slamming down on them hard and heavy. "Changed your mind?"

"I'd rather be back home," Orkin admitted as he shook his head, trying to clear his vision.

She understood, since landing at the crappy airfield that seemed barely able to handle the C-17 aircraft they'd spent the entire time soaked to the bone in water that was too warm to be called rain. It felt like they were being soaked in tepid tea more than anything else.

Linda gripped her rifle tighter, her senses on high alert.

They were exposed, riding in these vehicles like sitting ducks.

Every rustle of leaves, every shadow among the hills seemed to hold a threat.

A brief image of Brutus flashed in her mind, his concerned face when she'd told him about this deployment, the way he'd held her just a little longer before she left.

The truck, little more than a glorified pickup with chunky tires, was fast and could handle the muddy conditions when heavier vehicles would get bogged down. But one well-placed shot and they'd be in serious trouble.

Still, every person in the convoy was on guard, their weapons at the ready as they scanned the forest and hills that surrounded them for any signs of trouble.

Parker's voice crackled over the comms. "We've got a signal. They're holed up in a village about five kilometers ahead."

"Understood," Orkin replied. "What's the plan?"

"Be prepared to dismount and cover the last two kilometers on foot," Parker answered. "Charlie Six wants?—"

Up ahead shots rang out, and a roaring explosion tore through the air. Linda instinctively ducked, her eyes scanning the hills, but she didn't see anything. Goodman, who was driving, also ducked, but kept control of the vehicle.

"Shit! Where?—"

"Charlie Company!" Major Kirk called out over the company wide network. "First Platoon on me, get the hills on the north. Second Platoon with the XO, secure the south. Third, get your asses in there and get that aircrew! Vehicles authorized!"

Kirk clicked off, and the next instant Lieutenant Parker was on the platoon net. "Third Platoon, follow me!"

Up ahead, Parker's vehicle leapt down the road, accelerating hard as they could. First Squad was right behind him, Hollywood keeping a grim hold on the steering wheel as he pushed his foot down harder.

Linda was terrified. This wasn't the same fright of a normal mission. She'd been under fire enough times. But this time, only one thought ran through her head.

The baby.

Gripping her rifle tighter, Linda drew herself up as much as she could, knowing that her helmet and body armor was scant protection, but still wanting as much as she could as the six vehicles roared towards the small village.

It was a farming village Linda could see, a collection of maybe two dozen shanty houses gathered around a central wooden building that was clearly some sort of community center, or temple or something important as it had what looked like rock walls of some sort.

It was near the road, and as they reached the edge of the village trucks started peeling off as squads covered the village.

It was fast, it was violent… it was what they'd trained to do. Years of training kicked in as Linda and Hollywood took the first door, Hollywood taking the lead.

"US Army!" he bellowed, his voice ringing out before he kicked in the door. "Americans!"

Hearing only slight movement and muffled sounds inside, they swept the house, a simple three room building with rough, worn planks laid down as a floor.

In the main room there they found three people, a man, a woman, and a small girl.

The child was trying to scream, but her mother had her hand clamped over the child's mouth to stifle her screams.

Linda could see why, as the dirty dress the child had on was stained red on her side, and Linda's instincts kicked in again.

"Shit… Hollywood, verify the other rooms," Linda said, covering him while staying in the main room. When Goodman came out, giving her a clearing nod, she got on her radio. "Medic, this is Castellanos. Wounded civilian!"

"Second priority," Lieutenant Parker replied. "Air crew secure, two injured."

Linda wanted to argue, but held her tongue.

She knew Parker was right. Their job was to get the American air crew out of danger, not treat the local civilians who were obviously caught in some sort of crossfire.

She couldn't even stay, there were more buildings to sweep and secure before they could be assured the village didn't have any rebels waiting for them.

Still, she reached to her chest, pulling out her combat bandage. Ripping the plastic package open with her teeth, she tossed it to the woman. "We'll send help as soon as we can."

The woman took the bandage, saying something in the local language that Linda didn't understand, but understood perfectly. It was a combination of thank you, what the hell's happening, and can you help my daughter? Linda wished she could answer.

"We'll be back."

She and Hollywood swept three more buildings before rallying with the rest of the team and squad, using the buildings for cover as the rest of Charlie company swept the hills.

It was a tense hour, and Linda's heart never stopped hammering as she tried to keep her team safe, keeping them behind cover and their weapons at the ready. After about fifteen minutes, Orkin came up, staying low as he jogged between buildings.

"What's the sitch, Castellanos?"

"The buildings are nothing but civilians, one wounded little girl," Linda replied, staying on a knee behind the cinderblock wall she was currently using for cover. "The locals are staying low, not leaving their homes."

"The local honcho told them to," Orkin said.

"Linc came by, gave me the rundown. The air crew had to evac, rebels were on their ass, and got taken to the big building in the middle by the villagers.

One of the crew's got a broken arm. Rebels attacked, and what passes for two local cops fought them off with the air crew, but people got wounded.

Doc's treating them now, and will get to your little girl next. Where's she shot?"

"The side..." Linda started before her emotions swelled up and she fought back a sob.

She thought of Brutus again, wondering if her heightened emotions were pregnancy hormones or just the raw humanity of seeing a child caught in the crossfire of adult conflicts.

Clearing her throat, she gave Orkin a thumbs up. "Hooah."

"Okay, just keep an eye… hey, rain's letting up," Orkin noted, glancing at the sky. It was raining less, the fat drops drifting off to a gentle shower.

"Take it for a good sign, right?"

"Right."

Orkin moved on and Linda kept her watch, checking on the other four members of her team until Doc, the attached medic from the battalion command, came by with one of the locals.

"You've got a wounded civilian?" he asked, and Linda nodded. "Where?"

Linda led them to the house, where the mother had pressed Linda's bandage against the girl's wound. The girl was still conscious, but looked weaker, and Linda's throat tightened as Doc went to work, looking the girl over.

Doc called for an IV, motioning for the father to stand. While the mother held the little girl and the local man translated, Doc examined the wound with gentle, careful movements. Linda watched the little girl's face—so brave despite the pain, so innocent in a world that should never have hurt her.

Doc spoke reassuringly as he worked, explaining that the wound appeared clean and treatable. He administered medications through the IV to help with clotting and prevent infection, working quickly but thoroughly.

"If she's lucky, she'll recover," Doc said softly, finishing the bandaging. He handed additional supplies to the translator and turned to Linda. "Come on Castellanos, we need to go."

Linda nodded, wiping at her eyes as tears started to flow.

She couldn't hold them back, her heart just ripped apart at the pain and anguish in the little girl's face.

But there was nothing she could do as she and Doc retreated to the village headquarters, where the rest of the platoon was loading up.

She saw the downed aircrew, including their priority target, the Assistant Secretary of State who looked more than a little rattled by the whole ordeal.

There's someone who's not leaving Washington for a long time , Linda thought bitterly. Lucky fucker. Hope you enjoy Georgetown.

She thought of Brutus back home, how he'd understand this moment without her having to explain it. How he'd wrap those strong arms around her and just listen. The thought both comforted and pained her, he was so far away when she needed him most.

Climbing into her vehicle, they had a new passenger, Sergeant Lincoln, who gave up the space in his vehicle for the air crew.

"Let's roll," Linc told Goodman, who drove quickly. It wasn't quite as fast as when they'd roared into the village, but as the platoon retreated, Linda was grateful to see other trucks join the convoy.

Still, as they drove, Linda couldn't help but think of the haunted looks of the villagers. Americans had come to their village, bringing with them nothing but pain and destruction. The most that the platoon could do was offer gauze and some antibiotics.

That was it.

"What'll happen to the village?" Linda asked Sergeant Lincoln. "The rebels?"

"The lieutenant said Major Kirk's in contact with the government," Linc replied. "Government troops may or may not come through to assist, since the government is supposed to be our buddies. We'll see."

Linda nodded, wiping away another tear. They reached a paved road, and as the convoy started back towards the airfield, she couldn't hold it back any longer.

The little girl, the futility of it all, the death, the pain… setting her rifle aside, she lowered her head and sobbed, burying her face in her arms until her chest racked with aches and cramps from trying to breathe bent over in the truck while weighed down with body armor.

"Sarge… Sarge, you okay?" Goodman asked. "Sarge!"

"Y… yeah." Linda sat up and wiped her eyes. "Yeah, I'll be okay."

"I get it," Linc said to Linda, not upset at all by her display of emotion. "It's a shitty deal all around. But nobody in the platoon got hurt, nobody in the company's died. Take the win, Castellanos."

Linda nodded, but as the miles wheeled by, she knew she couldn't. She'd reached her limit, at least for a while.

Brutus's words came back to her unbidden. She remembered lying beside him on his couch, her head on his chest, his heartbeat steady in her ear as he talked about his injury.

"There's only so many big falls an athlete can take before the body just doesn't come back the way it used to," he'd said softly, his fingers tracing patterns on her shoulder. "When your bump card's full, even if the body wants to, it's time to hang up the cleats."

Linda didn't know about her physical bump card, but mentally… her bump card was full for the time being.

They got back to the airfield, where Alpha Company secured the field while Charlie loaded up.

The Assistant Secretary of State, who wasn't physically injured beyond being shaken up, got into a chopper alone while leaving the rest of the aircrew behind to catch the long ride back to the United States by cargo plane with the rest of the troops.

"Wonder if they've got champagne on there," Hollywood asked, watching the chopper take off. "Maybe an in-flight movie?"

"Probably flight attendants," Linda said darkly, shaking her head.

Spying Lieutenant Parker talking to Captain King, she approached the two officers, who were in the middle of a discussion on the company's after action report.

"Hey sir? Got a minute?"

"Sure." Parker took a damp cloth and wiped his face.

A roar filled the air, and the two of them looked over to see the chopper take off. Parker made a face, apparently the bad feelings over its usage transcended officer or enlisted.

"Remind me, if anyone wants to hand down medals for today… I don't want one."

"Agreed. Sir, I've got something to talk with you about." Linda took a deep breath. "Something… medical."