“Assuming my papers arrive,” she said, throwing me a knowing look, “maybe a month, six weeks. Certainly no more. I’ll have a couple of days in Kabul, maybe in Kandahar, too—meeting some of your top brass. Then I’m hoping I’ll be able to hitch a ride out to Leatherneck. I’ll just have to see how it goes. Maybe I’ll see you out there?”
I frowned. “I want you home safe, Caro.”
“Likewise, Sebastian.”
We stared at each other, neither one of us prepared to give in. I shook my head and changed the subject.
“Do you want to take a swim?” I suggested. “I’ll be God knows how many miles from the nearest pool out there, and hundreds of fucking miles from the ocean.”
“Sure,” she smiled. “And I get to see you in those ridiculously loud boardshorts again.”
“And you’ll wear the bikini?”
“Only if you promise not to punch anyone who looks at me.”
“Can’t promise that, baby,” I answered honestly.
Time passed too quickly, and it felt like moments later that we were sitting in the back of a cab taking us to Naples airport.
We were both quiet, lost in thought, when Caro suddenly spoke.
“Sebastian, when do you think you’ll tell Ches about us?”
I shrugged.
“I don’t know. Why?”
She hesitated. “Well, I just thought I could get all your belongings sent over from the west coast, but it’s going to make it tricky to organize if Ches doesn’t know about me.” She stammered out the words, then hurried on. “And there are some beautiful places in upstate New York that we could ride out to on your other bike … if you want.”
God, she was amazing. How the fuck did I get to be so lucky?
“You’d do that?”
She seemed puzzled by my question. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? You’ll need your things when you come home.”
Home. Fuck, I was going to have a home! She didn’t understand how much her words meant to me—she couldn’t.
“Okay,” I agreed quickly. “I’ll email him tonight. He’ll be pretty fucking surprised.”
She laughed, but it wasn’t a very happy sound. “Yes, that probably about sums it up—to say the least.”
I pulled her into my arms, kissing her with a raw hunger, not caring that our driver had a grandstand view in the mirror. I wanted the whole world to know this woman was mine. She had to know that I didn’t give a shit. If Ches or his bitch of a wife had a problem with us being together again, fuck ‘em—I didn’t need them in my life. Not that I thought Ches would be like that. He was my friend—we were solid.
“What was that for?” she asked breathlessly.
“Caro, all that matters … all that matters is you and me. Nothing else is important. We lost ten fucking years because of other people. I’m not going there again. I won’t let us. Understand? Nothing and no one will ever come between us again.”
She sighed, curling her body against mine, holding on too tight, because she didn’t believe me either.
The cab driver dropped us at departures, but we got separated by security. I was taken to one side, questioned and patted down. They definitely weren’t happy with the €6,000 in large denomination notes I was carrying. Once I showed them the receipt and forced my US Marine ID in front of them, they reluctantly let me through.
Caro’s anxious expression immediately eased as I strolled over to join her.
“Guess I’ve got a criminal face or something.”
“I could have told you that,” she laughed. “I’m just glad they didn’t get one of the female security guards or you’d never have gotten away.”
There was only one way to answer that, so I rolled my eyes as she snickered quietly.
The flight was short, less than two hours and we were back in Geneva, carless, bikeless and sunless. It was cooler, too, but I didn’t mind that, not when I knew Kabul would be in the high nineties and more.
We took a taxi back to the apartment and I threw open the shutters, letting in what was left of the daylight. I saw Caro studying my room, a frown on her face. I guess it did look pretty basic next to the luxury of Il Saraceno.
“We can check into a hotel, Caro.”
“No, this is fine. It’s not the room…”
Oh.
“Don’t say it, Caro,” I begged. “Please, baby. I can’t bear it when you look at me like that.”
“Sorry,” she whispered, and I could see the effort it cost her to put a small smile on her face. “So, single bed, huh? That’s going to be cozy. We’ll have to improvise.”
I smiled at her, grateful that she’d play along for a few more hours. It was going to be hard enough to say goodbye.
“I just gotta pack my shit, baby, then we’ll go find somewhere to eat, okay?”
“Sure, go ahead. I’ll write up my notes and check my messages.”
I’d gotten rid of most of my things already, in preparation for deployment. Anything I wanted to keep was already on its way to Ches’s garage. I knew Amy gave him hell for storing my stuff, but he didn’t listen to her. A few more things needed to be shipped out—I’d kept my iPod and laptop until now, but the laptop could go. I sent Ches an email that gave him the basics and told him I’d be out of touch for a while. If he had any messages he could send them to Caro.
What was left went into my sea-bag, except my Dress Blues which I shoved into a garment bag for now.
When I’d finished, Caro was still checking her messages. I realized she didn’t have a place to stay for the next few days, unless she went back to the hotel. I could tell she wasn’t comfortable in the apartment, but like she said, she’d been in worse places.
“You can stay here if you like,” I offered. “It’s paid up till the end of the month. The owner is Madame Dubois. Just leave the key with her when you go: she’s cool.”
When Caro looked up, her eyes were distant. “Thank you, I’ll do that,” she said quietly.
We were both trying to hold back the weight of the next 12 hours before it crushed us.
“Any interesting emails?” I asked, hoping to lighten the mood.
“All my girlfriends are drooling over your photograph,” she smiled, sounding more like her old self. “They can’t quite believe you’re real. Neither can I sometimes.”
I grinned and pulled her into a hug. “I could prove it to you now if you like.”
She didn’t answer, but ran her hands across the front of my jeans and squeezed, not very gently. My eyebrows shot up, and she laughed.
“Sex instead of food, Caro?”
“Yes,” she agreed, kissing my neck, “I don’t know what’s come over me—you must be a bad influence.”
Then she grabbed a hold of my t-shirt and ripped it over my head. Things were just getting interesting when my damn phone rang: my fuckin’ CO trying to cockblock me again.
Caro raised her hands in defeat, and re-tucked her shirt as I answered.
“Hunter.”
“Back in the land of cuckoo clocks?”
“Yes, sir. Just got back to Geneva.”
“Good. Slight change to your orders: a car will pick you up at oh-five-hundred hours for transfer to Ramstein. Space-A to Kabul, report to Ryan Grant at Camp Eggers. There’s a Press liaison dinner where your presence has been requested—Dress Blues. Now, somehow the ANA has got wind that we’re going after Gal Agha, which is not good news. They want to send ‘tactical support’ whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean. I’m hoping you and Grant’s team will be in Now Zad before they get their shit together. If not, skills and drills and watch your six. Clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want your first report from Leatherneck. Good night, Hunter.”
Caro was looking at me intently. I think she could see from my face how serious the situation was. I’d be walking into an administrative nightmare between ISAF and the Afghan National Army, intel that was leaking worse than the Titanic, with so-called colleagues I couldn’t trust. Plus I’d be working on a very sensitive mission with a detachment of Marines who didn’t know me. Yeah, nothing to worry about.