The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline(245)

Luckily I had something else to focus on. Despite the heat and despite the fact I’d sweated enough to leave salt marks on my clothes, I was dying to pee. Maybe it was just fear after all, but I didn’t know how much longer I could hang on.

Another fifteen minutes passed and the pressure on my bladder was becoming intolerable. I was seriously considering just peeing my pants right there. It was so hot, my clothes would dry quickly; the sting of humiliation would, however, last considerably longer.

I felt better when I noticed several of the Marines discreetly peeing into the wadi. God, it was so much easier for men. I should have worn a long skirt like the local women, then I could have just squatted down in the dirt and no one would have been any the wiser.

At that moment, I heard the sound of a jet streaking past overhead.

“Harrier,” muttered the bored-looking Marine who was kneeling down next to me.

There was an explosion so loud, it sounded as if a whole mountain had been blown up. A second explosion followed shortly afterward. I pressed my face into the dirt at the bottom of the wadi and tried to remember to breathe. I counted to a hundred before I dared to look up again. A thick cloud of dust and smoke hung over the foothills, lazily drifting down into the yellow valley.

I sat up to take a quick photo. I even remembered to take off the lens cap, which I thought was pretty damned impressive under the circumstances—and I still wanted to pee.

Then I noticed that several of the men were grinning at me.

“Was that your first time under fire, ma’am?”

“First time it was that damn close,” I said, with a thin smile. “I almost peed my pants.”

They laughed easily. “Well, you looked pretty cool, ma’am. We should make you an honorary Marine.”

“I’m sure Captain Grant would be delighted with that suggestion,” I muttered, and winked at them conspiratorially.

I looked across to see Sebastian smiling at me. I pressed my hand over my heart, and smiled back.

After waiting to see if there would be any further RPG attacks, we slowly made our way back along the dried up riverbed.

By now, my bathroom needs had intensified and I practically sprinted the last hundred yards to what passed for restrooms in the compound. ‘Sprinted’ might have been an exaggeration: I was wearing nearly 22 pounds of body armor; ‘staggered’ was probably more accurate.

But the relief could not be exaggerated. I floated out, oblivious to the catcalls and helpfully unhelpful comments from the Marines who were watching me with wide grins on their faces.

All I needed now was a hot shower, a good book, and a hot man. I’d come very near to an up-close-and-personal encounter with the Taliban: some life-affirming sex would be very welcome. I couldn’t see Sebastian among the sea of desert utility uniforms, but I hoped he’d find me later.

I dragged my sorry carcass to my room, dumped the body armor gratefully, then took my laptop and solar charger outside, and sat in the shade, writing my notes.

I could see a small flurry of activity going on at one side, with Marines hoisting up bits of rope and old jerry cans. My body was too weary to wonder what they were doing, and my brain was too stunned to care. But then I noticed that Sebastian seemed to be organizing the work party. After another ten minutes, he strolled over casually and squatted down next to me.

“How you doing, baby?” he said, in a low voice.

“Pretty damn good, Chief,” I replied, “considering I nearly got my ass shot off today.”

He chuckled quietly. “You are so fucking amazing, Caro.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Sebastian.”

We both noticed the speculative gazes we were garnering at the same time. He stood up abruptly. “We’ve fixed you up a makeshift shower.”

“Excuse me?” I said, certain that I’d misheard.

“The guys wanted to do something for you—they think you’re a ballsy woman. So they’ve made you a shower. You’ve got about two-and-a-half minutes of lukewarm water. How’s that sound?”

“What? How?”

I gaped at him and he smiled back.

“I just left some cartons of water out in the sun during the day. They got pretty warm: all we had to do was hoist them up and make a shower head. You’re good to go. Except you won’t be able to take off your clothes, but it’s better than nothing, I guess.”

“God, I love you!” I murmured. “But I think I love them, too!”

He snorted, but thankfully looked amused as I waved at the shower-building team.

“I’ll be right back!”

I hurried to my room and grabbed a small sachet of shampoo. I hadn’t thought I’d need it, but I was so happy that I’d included it after all.