Page 5

CHAPTER 5

“ W ell, damn, Skipper, she turned out to be a bit of a bitch, didn’t she?” Stryker asked as Ronan approached the group.

He’d muted his comms before putting the woman in her place then turned them back on as he walked toward his men. He glanced at the group and shut down the idea that Fleur was a bitch. “She’s working in a war zone without having a declared conflict. Her questions weren’t bitchy.”

“Yeah, but she needs to know we’ve all lost someone,” Jug said as he picked up his now empty fuel cans. “Nobody in this business is untouched by what’s happening.”

“She knows now,” Wraith said.

Ronan glanced at his second in command and nodded. “She does. Let’s get back and get the food and medical supplies unlocked and unpacked.”

“For the number of people in this camp, they’ve done a good job keeping up the sanitation,” Wolf said as they moved through the path back toward their camp.

“Skipper, the two vehicles are in Aleppo. It looks like a warehouse area. I’m losing the satellite soon,” Dude said through the comms.

“Copy. Why are you still working?” Ronan didn’t want his man to burn out.

“Meh, Tink had a date. I told her to have fun and that I’d pull a double. She doesn’t get out much.”

“What?” Jug said. “Wait, you checked this guy out, right?”

Dude snorted. “Damn straight. Tink is my little sister, if not by blood, by computer code. The guy works for Guardian, and believe me, I checked him out. He seems like a good guy.”

Ronan chuckled. Dude was their primary operator, but Tink covered his off-duty time. She had the voice of a Smurf and a heart of gold. Everyone on the team was protective of Tink even though they’d never met her. “Get some rest. I’ll send out a tone if we need you.”

“Thanks, Skipper.” Dude yawned. “I’ve got the tone set to break glass on this end. If you need me, I’ll be here.”

Once they’d reached the camp and unlocked the trailer, the team started to pull out the medical supplies, and soon after, Fleur and another woman jogged into camp. Fleur stopped at the edge of their area, but the other woman ran straight to him before looking at the crates they were unloading. “Please tell me you brought these for me?” she asked, looking from him to the others.

Jug frowned. “Depends on who you are.”

She extended her hand and walked up to Jug. “Dr. Shelly Braun, formerly of Cincinnati, currently from the medical tents. And thank you for the fuel. This is freaking Christmas.”

Jug blinked at the woman but extended his hand anyway. “They’re for you.”

The woman bypassed his hand and hugged Jug like Fleur had hugged Ronan but not as long. Jug’s face turned bright red. The doctor spun, not noticing Jug’s embarrassment, and opened one of the lids. “Oh, yes! Antibiotics, antifungals, antivirals, analgesics, holy crap, vaccines.” She moved to the next crate. “Disinfectants, antiseptics, splints, personal protective gear.” She clapped and opened the last crate. Her moves stilled, and she lifted one of the kits. She looked at the emergency contraception kits and supplies used to handle post-rape care. Lifting her eyes to Jug, she choked out. “Thank you. You have no idea how much we needed all this.”

Jug nodded and gruffed, “Wish it could be more.”

Stryker pointed to a crate. “This is for the kids. It’s candy, but not any candy. Our organization has it made with vitamins and protein. We’re kind of addicted to it.” He lifted the lid, and Fleur walked over to it.

“Taffy?”

“Kind of a tradition for our organization.” Wolf laughed. “Rumor has it one of our founders is fond of it. It took on a life of its own.” He tossed her a piece and then one to the doctor.

Fleur unwrapped the candy and popped it into her mouth. “Oh, man, this is so good. I haven’t had a sweet in, wow, almost a year.” When she turned and looked at him, her smile faded. She walked over to him. “Could I speak to you a moment? Alone?”

The words were quiet and hidden behind a piece of taffy, but he heard them. He nodded toward the tent, and they walked away from his team.

“Skipper, we’re taking this to the medical tents,” Wraith said as they walked by. He nodded and continued to the large tent, where he opened the flap, and she walked in. He left the flap open but followed her inside.

Turning to him, she held up a finger, and he watched as she finished the taffy. She swallowed hard and said, “Shelly heard the last part of our conversation and pointed out that I’ve had my head up my … ah, bum and that I’m an idiot.” She crossed her arms and stared up at him. “Due to events that had happened before you got here, I’ve had blinders on, and I’ve been so focused on getting our people out of here and to a camp that can continue to provide for them and protect them that I’ve tuned out everything and everyone else.”

He didn’t need an apology. “Look?—”

She held up a hand as he started to speak. “No, let me finish, please?”

Ronan lifted an eyebrow as he noted the desperate look on her face and nodded. Obviously, the woman needed to get this off her chest.

“I’ve never had anyone die in my arms, and I’m so sorry that has happened to you. Losing people who were coworkers and acquaintances was so damn hard. I can’t imagine what you went through.” She drew a deep breath. “Your sister, is she …”

“She’s alive and well. We were able to rescue her from the situation, but it changed life for all of us. ”

Fleur’s hand went to her mouth. “Thank God you were able to get to her, and there’s no doubt the experience changed your family. I’ve seen the women and children pulled out of that situation, and that was hard for me. I have no idea what your family has gone through. I hope it brought you closer.”

“Everyone handled it differently, but we’re fine. Thank you.” He and Deacon had dedicated their lives to Guardian because his father’s company had tracked Charley down and rescued her. They’d never wavered on that commitment. Gabby had taken it hard and chosen a path they’d never expected, eventually leading to her working with Charley at the helm of Guardian. A journey he and Deacon were also walking but taking other routes to get there.

“Of course. Anyway, I’m incredibly sorry for assuming my situation and focus was in any way more of a challenge than what you’ve dealt with in your life. It was obnoxiously self-centered of me, and I promise I’ll never do that again.”

He studied her expression. They said eyes were the window to the soul, and he could see nothing but regret for her actions there. Inexplicably, he wanted to make them shine with laughter and happiness rather than regret and pain. “Your apology is accepted but unnecessary. We’re here to find a way to get you, the staff, and, if possible, the occupants of this camp relocated as safely as possible. If we can restart the convoys, we’ll do that. Getting to that point might not happen as soon as you’d like, but I won’t risk anyone: my team, you, your staff, or the people counting on your organization. Understand?”

She nodded. “I do. Could I ask a favor?”

Ronan cocked his head to the side. A favor? His mind instantly bounced to a saying his mom used to say when they were kids. Do you want a kiss to make it all better? And that came from absolutely nowhere. Yeah, not going there. What did she say? Right. “You can ask.” He wasn’t sure he had the means to deliver any favors, but he’d entertain the notion. It seemed he’d entertain a lot of notions about this woman. Oh, for fucks sake, man.

“I’m assuming you're going to take control of the convoys. Let me learn as you work to provide security.”

Ronan removed his helmet and held it under his arm as he rubbed his head. Well, her mind was firmly in reality, wasn’t it? He cracked his neck and focused. “ If we reinstate convoys, you’ll be welcome to observe and provide any input you’ve learned from your time here. I won’t pretend to know everything, and everyone’s observations and input will be evaluated.”

Fleur smiled at him. “Thank you.”

He nodded, noticing the way her smile went all the way to her eyes. “Since the team is delivering supplies, why don’t you show me the process you go through to process a convoy.”

She rubbed her hands together. “Absolutely. Follow me.” She strode out of the tent, and Ronan put his helmet back on. He gave the woman his respect. It took some balls to apologize. Most people wouldn’t. And he’d give her that respect by keeping his mind on the mission.

He’d muted his comms as he worked with Fleur and his team delivered supplies. Ronan sat with Fleur as she explained each step of the process. There were far too many fingers in the act of planning the movement. Over three-quarters of the notifications and checklist items were unnecessary at best and against every security protocol he’d ever known at worst. Hell, five or six of the tasks she was required to do put the convoy's security in danger.

“Who do you work with in the militia?” he asked as he stared at the pages of checklists spread out before him.

Fleur leaned back and rolled her shoulders. “ Habib has been my point of contact. Miller or a couple of the men go out to their camp and bring him back in when we’re ready to go. We don’t tell them where we’re going.”

“Do you use the same vehicle configuration each time you move people out?”

She shook her head. “No, if we need fuel, we take the fuel trucks and the refrigerator truck if we bring back perishables. Sometimes, it’s just the deuce and a halfs that transport people to the other camps. It depends on the needs of the camp and the supplies we can get from the areas we’re going to.”

Ronan leaned back and glanced at her. A deuce and a half was a two-and-a-half-ton truck that carried people in the back under cover. The other vehicles were also readily identifiable at a distance. “So, it’s possible for someone to know what you’re bringing back by the configuration of your convoy.”

She blinked and looked down at the checklist momentarily before swearing bitterly. She looked up at him. “Yes, damn it. They could. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you weren’t trained to do this. You were trained to follow procedures, and you did. You’ve done nothing wrong.” But based on the requirements placed on Fleur and the rest of the staff in the camp, the convoys were set up to fail. He was surprised it hadn’t happened before then. The resources moving out and into the camp were extremely valuable to the factions at war in the country. But he was still missing details. “Tell me, when the convoys were attacked, were they attacked on the way there or back?”

“I’m not sure. I’m sorry. I hate to admit the fact that I singled my focus on the loss of our people and the IDPs.” Fleur stood up, went to an old, dented aluminum filing cabinet, and retrieved a folder.

“May I ask a favor?” He parroted her words from earlier. She stopped with her hand in the drawer. Those blue eyes blinked at him in surprise. Damn, everything the woman thought was expressed through those beautiful eyes.

“Sure. What can I do for you?”

He stared at her. She was amazing, and she needed to recognize that fact. “Stop apologizing. You’ve done a stellar job following your rules and checklists. Nothing you did was out of line or questionable in any way. Devote the energy you’ve been putting into guilt, concern, or worry into helping me help you.” She pulled the file out of the drawer and closed it. He watched her walk back and sit down.

She drew a deep breath. When she looked up at him, there was a glint of tears in her eyes. Every fiber of his being wanted to wipe those tears away and never let her feel this way again. “Guilt. It hurts so damn bad.”

God, he understood that. He’d bought that t-shirt and fucking purchased a hoodie just because he needed to dwell in the guilt a bit more. “Survivor’s guilt. Been there, done that. From experience, I can tell you guilt can place you in dangerous situations. If you let it, it will ruin you. You’re alive. Use that fact to put an end to the people targeting your convoys. Any other focus is a waste of your time.”

Her blue eyes closed for a moment. Her eyelashes rested on her sun-kissed cheeks. She was beautiful, both inside and out. There was zero pretense in this woman. She wore her emotions on her sleeve. “It almost did. Ruin me, I mean. I have a meeting set up outside the camp in three weeks.”

And that was shocking. The idea of a single woman and a foreigner going out of camp unescorted to meet with strangers was sickening. What could happen to her wasn’t imaginary or unlikely in any stretch of the imagination. The thought of those dangers crawled under his skin and dug in with bloody claws. He would never allow her to leave the camp unescorted. Never. He narrowed his eyes. “To do what?”

She winced and cringed just a bit like she knew what she was about to say wouldn’t fly with him. “The tunnel people, the contacts I told you about, agreed to meet me in three weeks, but they won’t come into the camp.” She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, which he figured was her nervous habit.

Ronan leaned forward and got in her personal space. “Promise me you won’t go to that meeting.”

She blinked, her eyes dropped from his eyes to his lips and then back up. Her cheeks flushed red, and she licked her lips before nodding. “I promise. Shelly had already convinced me I could be doing it for the wrong reasons. It’s just that I had to try. Getting these people relocated is so important.”

Shelly sounded like she had her head screwed on straight. “What reasons?”

Fleur rolled her eyes. “She said I was trying to be a martyr, which, technically, I think she had the definition wrong, but yeah, I wasn’t thinking about anyone except me. I wanted to get people out. I wanted to come up with a solution. Thinking I was the only one trying. But I wasn’t, and I’m not. Man, I don’t know how I didn’t see what I was doing. I mean, everything was centered around me, which I’ve already apologized to you about.”

He leaned back and plucked at the seam of his utility uniform. “Your heart was in the right place.”

“Was it?” She sighed and dropped her head to the file on the table with a clunk.

Ronan grimaced. That had to sting. “Did that help?”

“No, it hurt,” the muffled reply said.

Ronan chuckled and smiled when she started laughing, too. Her laugh was amazing.

She lifted her head, and the red spot on her forehead was a testament to the fact that she hadn’t thought that move through. She rubbed the spot and sighed. “I’m really not this much of a putz. Today, you’ve seen me at my worst.”

Ronan smiled and shook his head. “If this is at your worst, you’ve got nothing to worry about. So, how about we look at those convoys and see if we can find a trend?”

She opened the folder and asked, “Do you want to look at all of them or just the ones that were attacked?”

“All of them from the beginning of the year.”

She nodded and started pulling stapled packets of paper off the top of the file. She leaned close to him as he examined each one. “As you can see, we don’t deviate from our checklists.” He made a sound of agreement. She had all the checklists with notification dates, times, and names, plus the names of the people moving to another camp and the supplies returning. Each camp had a designated logistics person she coordinated the moves with. The names didn’t change. He compared the notification names from each NGO and noted several changes within the other organizations. He closed the one he was reviewing. “This will take days.”

“What are we looking for? Maybe I can help.” Her ponytail slipped over her shoulder and landed on his arm. The soft braid surprised him. He glanced down, and she grabbed it. “Sorry.” He lifted an eyebrow and looked at her. Glancing up at him, she blushed. “I know. Stop apologizing.”

He chuckled. The attraction he was feeling to this woman was a bit overboard, but it was the passion she had for what she did that seemed to link his thoughts to her. He knew that feeling. When you were positive that what you were doing was making the world better. It was an addictive feeling, and so few people in the world actually found work they were passionate about. “Thank you, and to answer your question, I’m looking for anything in the convoys to denote a change. Personnel, processes, anything and everything down to the day of the week and when the convoys left or returned. How long have you worked with Habib?” They’d have to process each of these convoys and compare them.

“Whew, that’s a lot to look at, but I’m game. Habib has been the leader of the militia here for almost eight months.” She tapped the end of her pen against the table. “If I had to put him in the good guy or bad guy pile, he’d go in the good guy stack.”

“Why’s that?”

“Since he’s been here, the amount of poaching from the camp has lessened.” She glanced up at him.

“Poaching?”

“Things going missing, people going missing. We can’t stop people from leaving the camp, and they can leave at any time, but when unattached females or boys over the age of eight go missing in the middle of the night, you have to ask if they left or were taken.” She shrugged. “I believe the last leader allowed his people to steal from us. The instances of that have diminished since Habib took over.”

Ronan hated the acceptance she had in her voice. What she must have seen in her time here was daunting. She had a heart of gold, but he could tell that the realities of the world had started to hammer a few dents into it. “How do you know people go missing?” Roll call wasn't an option with all the people in the camp.

“Others tell us they haven’t seen someone in days or weeks.” She sighed. “Knowing who’s in the camp isn’t an exact science here, but I work hard to register all the unaccompanied and the children. Besides me, we have volunteers who help them with food, teaching them how to keep things sanitary, finding them space, and taking them to the hospital tent when necessary, but there are only so many of us to go around. The theft is usually fuel, food, generators, and such. We’ve learned to secure anything we don’t want to disappear.”

“I’ll meet with Habib tomorrow.” He wanted to get the man’s perspective. “Has he lost people while protecting the convoys?”

Fleur blinked then shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of any of the militia being hurt, but again, I haven’t asked. That makes me horrible, doesn’t it?” She dropped her head to her hands.

“No, it doesn’t. You can’t be all things to all people.”

She turned her head and looked at him. “My martyr complex is showing, isn’t it?”

He shrugged and winked at her. “Could be. ”

Groaning, she asked, “Can I be there to hear what Habib says? I’ll know if he’s telling you the truth or not.”

He had no desire to take her out of the camp or into the militia’s area, especially with Slim and his counterparts being there. If Habib were still in command, which he doubted, the man wouldn’t want to talk to them with a woman present. Working for a woman was deemed to be beneath a man in this part of the country. “I’ll have Miller bring him into the camp. There’s a divider in our tent. You can listen from the other side.”

Fleur frowned at him. “Because I’m a woman?”

“Yes. His beliefs and culture, not mine.” Ronan watched her internalize what he said.

“I know.” She sighed and slumped in her chair. “Archaic thinking.”

“I agree, but we’ll work within our limits. Making him comfortable could loosen his tongue. But there’s a real possibility Habib is no longer controlling the militia.”

She popped upright. “What? Why? We haven’t heard anything, and we have a great grapevine.”

“Gossip?”

She made a face at him. “Well, that, too, but the informal information about what’s happening in the camp is important, too.”

Damn, this woman was unexpected but a welcome addition to his mission. He leaned in. “The men who came with us this morning were led by someone who thought very highly of himself. Two vehicles left shortly after that. He could’ve been relieved of his duties.”

She frowned and shook her head. “That’s not good. I need to let Miller know we might have a new point of contact.” When she rubbed her neck, he glanced at his watch. They’d been at this for hours.

He stood up and slung his weapon over his shoulder. “I’ll let you do that and get some dinner.”

She chuckled and stood up, dropping her pen on the table before replacing the documents in the folder and putting them in the filing cabinet. “Most days, I eat one meal a day. I don’t think it’s right of me to eat when the IDPs are hungry.”

Well, that explained why she was so slender. “Have you eaten today?”

She cocked her head as if thinking. She smiled suddenly. “Yes, I had a piece of candy.”

Ronan put his hands on his hips. “Come on, you can have dinner with me. ”

“No, I wouldn’t want to take your food from you.”

He looked back at her. “I think you failed to realize that wasn’t an invitation.”

She snorted. “I don’t take orders from you.”

Ronan saw the challenge in her expression. Well, okay, he was up to it. She smiled and lifted an eyebrow at him, adding to the fun. He smiled as he said, “You do. I’m in charge of security for this camp now. You’ll do as I say when I say it.” He was damned if he was going to eat while she was hungry.

She crossed her arms and stared at him, defiance flashing in every cell of her body. “In security matters, yes. In this, no.”

“Buchanan, I’m giving you one opportunity to change your mind.”

“No.” She shook her head, smiling wickedly. Putting on his helmet, he walked forward and dipped down before slinging her over the shoulder that was not carrying his M-4.

“What are you doing? Stop! You can’t do this!” she shrieked, and then a bubble of laughter belted out across the tent.

“I am doing this. You had your opportunity.” He ducked through the opening of the tent that was connected to Miller’s .

“I’m serious! Stop and put me down.” Her laughter took away any severity of the protest. Ronan laughed when she snorted and then laughed harder. Ronan saw Miller push the flap of his tent back. His look of worry turned to surprise and then to humor. “Miller! Tell him to put me down. Oh my God, I’m going to get altitude sickness up here.”

“Which leads to the question, why are you up there, Fleur?” Miller asked, laughing with them now.

“She failed to follow an order,” Ronan provided.

She squeaked and grabbed at the back of his uniform. Her laughter peeled across the camp, and they attracted more eyes as she laughed. “He can’t order me to eat. Tell him to put me down.”

“I can when she hasn’t eaten today. I’m taking her to dinner.”

“Buchanan, I told you to take better care of yourself,” Miller fussed at her in mock sternness. Ronan jostled her to carry over his shoulder more easily, and her laughter grew louder. “Enjoy dinner, Buchanan,” Miller called after them.

“I’m going to report this, Ronan.” Her threat was lost in her giggles.

Ronan spun her around. “To whom?” he asked. “I don’t see anyone here.”

She shrieked and laughed harder. “To my supervisors.” The words were barely recognizable. She went limp and dropped over his back, still laughing. He had to hurry to pin her legs so she wouldn’t face-plant in the dirt. His laughter and hers mixed as he made his way to their tent.

“Whatcha got there, Skipper?” Wolf asked from the darkness outside the camp.

“A dinner guest,” he said, and she let out a laugh.

“A brute has kidnapped me. You should help me.”

Wolf laughed. “Nah, I think the Skipper has things handled.”

“Brat.” She pushed up. “Hey, where did he go?” He could feel her twisting to look for Wolf. “Man, he’s good at disappearing, isn’t he?”

“One of the best,” Ronan agreed.

“Which one was that?” she asked, still trying to lift herself by holding onto his uniform.

“Wolf,” he answered, chuckling as he dropped her on her feet when he entered the tent. Jug and Wraith looked up when they entered.

“Whew!” She put out an arm, and he grabbed it to steady her. “I’m slightly dizzy.”

“Because you haven’t eaten,” Ronan said.

“Or it could be that I was tossed over an ogre’s shoulder and dragged out of my tent,” she said .

“Is that possible?” Jug asked. “Being tossed over a shoulder and dragged?”

Wraith chuckled. “Nope.” He stood up and grabbed his weapon. “Jug.”

“Coming,” Jug said, grabbing his weapon. “We’re going to check the perimeter and stop at the hospital to ensure they secured the supplies. They don’t have the best containers over there, so we thought we’d help if they needed it.”

“Copy that,” Ronan said as he hit up their supply kit, and his men left. “What do you want for dinner?” He grabbed two MREs. “Beef stew or chili.” He held up the pouches.

“Wow, first-class dining over here.” She cocked her head and shrugged. “Surprise me.”

“Chili is better.” He tossed it to her, and she caught it. “Do you know how to warm it up?”

She nodded. “Yep. One of the first things I learned when I joined this organization. I wasn’t joking, you know. This is first-class dining. We’ve been rationing for a long time. What I wouldn’t give to get these kids some fruits and veggies.”

Ronan pointed to his bunk. “You can sit there.” He sat on the ground beside her. Pulling the cup off his canteen, he filled it with water and handed it to her. “Thank you. Not only for the food but for the fun. I haven’t laughed that much in a long time.” She pulled her food out of the pouch.

“I can understand that.” He chuckled. “I wasn’t going to carry you over here. I was just proving a point, but when you laughed so hard …” He smiled when she laughed again.

She shook her head and slid her food into the heater she’d activated with water. “How long have you worked for Guardian?”

“Twelve years.” Ronan shrugged. “Most of my family works for them in some fashion.”

“Really?” she asked as she fought with the cornbread pouch. Sighing, she looked at him. “The cornbread is fighting me.”

He smiled and extended his hand, and she passed it over. He slipped his knife out of his web belt and slit it open. “You got a big knife there, Skipper.” He lifted his eyes to hers and saw the laughter she was trying to suppress. “If I knew you better, I would ask if you were compensating for something.”

Her audacity shocked him, and he barked out a laugh. “If I knew you better, I’d tell you I don’t have to compensate for anything.”

When he answered her, she had just put a bite of cornbread into her mouth. When she laughed, cornbread crumbs spewed. She clamped her hands over her mouth, causing them both to laugh. Ronan ended up leaning against Wraith’s bed, holding his stomach. When they finally quieted down, she sighed. “I missed this.”

“Laughing?” he asked.

“Being normal.” She was lying half on his cot with her feet still on the floor. “I love what I do, but sometimes, I think I’ve lost me in the process.”

He glanced over at her. “That would be a shame. I kind of like you.”

She turned her head to him. “Right back at you, Skipper.”