Caro glanced at me.
“What did he say?”
I saw Grant’s head turn toward us, also waiting for the answer.
“Nothing I’d like to repeat, ma’am,” I said, running my thumb over the back of her hand. She got the message.
Our compound had been a police station at some point in its life, but used many times over by ISAF soldiers from both British and US forces. There was no fresh water, no electricity, and the sleep area was in the old cells, up to a dozen men per room.
I listened carefully as the quarters were allocated and I was glad to hear that Caro was given a separate room.
I was sent to talk to the squad of Marines we were relieving, all who were happy as fuck to be getting back to Leatherneck.
But it wasn’t good news: the Taliban had been sending in reinforcements over the last week, even though the number of RPG attacks had decreased. I got a cold feeling in my gut—the bastards were waiting for us. I couldn’t help thinking that they knew why we were here.
Not good.
I hadn’t even had time to find out where I was sleeping when chow was called. But then Grant ordered me to go talk to a bunch of locals who were hanging around the observation post at the entrance.
It turned out that they wanted to invite the boss to meet the town elder; they even promised to kill a goat for him. I’d bet my ass that Grant would be thrilled. It was polite to let them invite you three times and they would say ‘stay for tea’ the way we’d say ‘how are you?’ but not expect a real answer. But when they kept on inviting you, that was serious.
I passed the message on and Grant agreed that he’d come soon, but was unwilling to commit to a date in advance. I tried to tell him that this would be considered an insult, but he didn’t care. So much for hearts and minds. I relayed his answer, then spent 45 minutes dealing with the fall-out.
I was on his shit list but at least he didn’t give me punishment duty of doing a burn from the shit pits—no flushing toilets or refuse collection here. Setting fire to the latrine waste was seriously gross. Necessary, but gross.
I finally got some food three hours after everyone else had turned in and the first watch were on duty.
I wanted to make sure that Caro was okay before I headed back to the comms room to listen to the radio chatter about our arrival. What the fuck had I been given five terps for if I had to do all the grunt work? Okay, I knew the answer to that, but I was tired and pissed and really wanted to make sure Caro was safe. So I waited until I was sure no one would notice, then made my way to her side of the compound.
I crouched down outside her room, then opened the creaky door, whispering her name as I crawled inside.
She was sitting on a narrow air mattress, and I could just make out in the dim light that she had a huge smile on her face. My heart thumped painfully just looking at her.
“It’s like a dream having you here,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find I’ve imagined you.”
I pulled her into my arms and she clutched me tightly.
“My dreams aren’t usually this good,” she sighed against my chest.
“Mine are,” I said, a smile in my voice. “Or they used to be. When you first left, I dreamed about you all the time.”
“What was I doing?” she asked, stroking my cheek as the memories flooded back.
“Mostly, we were just walking on the beach.”
“Mostly?”
I grinned. “Sometimes we did other stuff.”
Triple R X-rated.
“Stuff? I’m not sure I know what you mean by ‘stuff’,” she laughed, then she rubbed the front of my pants, palming my hardening dick.
“Caro!” I groaned loudly. “Fuck, I just came to make sure you were okay in here. I have to get back to the comms room.”
“Right away? You can’t take a few minutes?”
I could hear the disappointment in her voice.
“I really can’t, baby,” I said, kissing her hungrily. “Grant’s waiting for me.”
“You’re such a tease,” she snorted, slapping my ass. “You come in here, raising my expectations…”
“That’s not the only thing that got raised,” I admitted as I adjusted my junk.
But she just laughed at me. “Well, I’d have been happy to meet those expectations, but apparently you have to go be a warrior.”
“Actually, I have to go be an interpreter … I could try and come back later, Caro.”
Her smile dropped away and she held my face as she looked into my eyes.
“Sebastian, seriously: do what you need to do. You know where I am, and I trust you to know whether or not it’s safe to take that risk. It worries me that I’m a distraction here for you. The most important thing is that you focus on your job. We’ve got the rest of our lives after that.”
The rest of our lives.
I kissed her again, then rested my forehead against hers.
“I’m a lucky bastard—thank God for you, Caro.”
“I’ll see you at breakfast, Marine,” she said, running her hand over my short hair.
“One other thing,” I said, needing her to know that this was important, “there’s been some radio chatter and the Taliban definitely know we’re here. I don’t think they’ll do anything tonight—they’re not in position, from what I can work out, but if you hear someone yell ‘incoming’, get your body armor on, keep your head down, and stay in here away from the windows. Whatever happens, Caro, stay in here. Everyone out there knows what they’re doing: we don’t need your help. You know what I’m saying, baby?”
She nodded then wrapped her arms around me more tightly. “I promise. I don’t want you thinking about me when you have more important things to concentrate on.”
I had to smile at that. “There isn’t anything more important than you.”
But I did have a job to do—and if I did it right, it would keep everyone safe. I kissed her again, then tore myself out of her arms and made my way back to the comms room.
Jankowski was hunched over a coffee when I walked in, talking to another guy who had his back to me.
The Lieutenant frowned when he saw me. “Where’ve you been, Hunter? You know we can’t use the local terps on this.”
“Taking a dump, sir,” I said, slouching into the empty seat and picking up the headphones.
The other guy turned around and grinned at me. “Well, well, well, if it ain’t the Hollywood Marine!”
I turned and stared. “Fuck me! Sergeant Chivers! How you doin’, man?”
Mark Chivers was a guy I’d met on my first tour in Iraq. We’d hung out a bit before I’d gotten picked for interpreting work. He’d gone to boot camp at Parris Island, NC, and called everyone who’d trained in Cali a ‘Hollywood Marine’. We called them ‘Swamp Doggies’.
He grinned at me. “Lookin’ good, Seb. Who’d y’all fuck off to get sent to this shithole?”
“Much as I’m enjoying this touching reunion,” grunted Jankowski, “I’d really like to know what the fuck the enemy is saying about us, or is that too much to ask, Hunter?”
“On it, sir,” I said, as Chiv winked at me and turned back to the radio operations.
I spent the next four hours listening to comms traffic. The Taliban definitely knew we were here, but so far it sounded like only a few of them were on the ground—more were being summoned. It was clear that someone knew something; what that was remained unclear. But the coincidence of them sending reinforcements at the exact time of this new mission, well, I’d have to be a fucking moron not to make the connection.
Eventually, as the comms chatter died down, Jankowski let me go off duty. My head was pounding from being immersed in heavily-accented Pashto and Dari for the first time in three years. The intense concentration left me feeling drained. I needed to sleep; but first I was going to check on Caro.
Her door opened quietly, and I watched for half a minute as the slow, even rise of her chest showed that she was asleep. I could only see a dim silhouette, but being near her, that was enough. All thoughts of heading to my own cot died. Instead, I curled up awkwardly at the foot of her air mattress and was asleep in seconds.