I sighed. That poor country had a long way to go.
Our patrol was the first one back at the compound. Grant had confirmed that a food drop would be happening soon, so each Marine could have a one-minute shower with what was left from the water ration. Soon, there was an awful lot of naked flesh on display. I was glad I had a pair of sunglasses behind which to hide my blushes—or maybe it was my interest that I was hiding. I’d never used to pay much attention to that sort of thing, even though I lived by a beach. Huh, I blamed Sebastian.
I headed back to my room and started typing up notes and polishing a couple of articles that were almost ready to go. I was pleased with the photographs, too. The ones from the previous day were particularly dramatic, although looking at them brought back some of the knee-trembling terror that I’d felt.
After an hour of typing, I flipped shut the laptop lid, and sat outside to write an old-fashioned pen-and-paper letter to Sebastian. I was determined that if mail did arrive soon, he’d have a letter to open. I spent my time being creative: he said he wanted to get kinky with me, so I roughed out some ideas, to see if any of them were on his ‘to do’ list. It was a shame our time and space was so limited right now. I wanted to show him what a formerly-sexually-frustrated forty-year-old with a good vocabulary could imagine.
Sebastian’s patrol was the last to return to the compound. Even from a distance, I could see that his face was strained. He glanced over to where I was sitting, and shook his head imperceptibly.
A few minutes later he emerged from Grant’s makeshift office, and strode over to me.
“Captain Grant would like to see you, ma’am,” he said, formally.
I followed him across the compound, feeling anxious as he pressed his lips together in a hard line.
Grant’s office seemed gloomy after the punishing sunlight; he waved me to the only other chair in the room and Sebastian stood silently behind me.
“Ms. Venzi, your presence is causing some interest among the local population. Chief Hunter heard some talk while on patrol that concerned him.”
I glanced up at Sebastian who remained resolutely mute.
“And what does this talk say?” I prompted.
“At the moment it’s vague, but the news of having a woman with us will spread quickly now. We have a new cook and a new medic arriving in six days, so the heli will be putting down briefly. If you become a person of interest, as I think you will, you’ll be at risk and you’ll be putting my men at risk, too. I want you on that flight, Ms. Venzi.”
I felt like he’d punched me, and all the air left my lungs. But I understood, as well. He was making a strategic decision. He hadn’t tried to persuade or softball me; he just told it like it was.
“I see. Well, thank you for being so candid and explaining the situation to me, Captain Grant. I’ll ensure that I get as much work done as I can, and I’ll be ready to leave when you advise.”
The Captain looked relieved; perhaps he’d expected me to argue, or throw a hissy fit. I may have been a stupid woman who overslept on her first day embedded with his unit, but I wasn’t selfish enough to risk the lives of others. Especially not Sebastian’s.
The worst part was that I’d be leaving him behind. I’d always known that day would come, I just thought we’d have a bit longer first. He was right: we always seemed to be traveling in different directions.
I stood up, and Sebastian escorted me out of the Captain’s office.
“Sorry, baby,” he murmured.
“That’s okay,” I replied, quietly. “I don’t want to cause more problems out here. Besides, I can get some stories from Leatherneck, so the paper won’t be shortchanged.”
“If anything happened to you…” he began.
I interrupted him quickly. “I told you, Sebastian, I’m not going to take risks. If you care about me, you won’t either.”
“If I care about you?” he said angrily.
“You know what I mean—and keep your voice down.”
He scowled, and looked mutinous.
Great. Sulky Sebastian was back.
Reluctantly, he left me outside my room, and marched off to the other side of the compound where he threw angry glances at me until it was meal time.
I was just drowning my sorrows in some piss-weak coffee, when Lieutenant Crawley emerged from Grant’s subterranean office.
“Supply chopper on its way,” he announced, then picked out a platoon to retrieve the goodies.
A few minutes later, we all heard the distinctive thrum of the Black Hawk’s twin engines chewing up the air around it, and small parachutes began raining down.
Once the swag had been collected and relocated to the compound, everyone gathered around to sort out the supplies: ammunition, water and—thank you God—fresh rations. There was also a bag of mail which I volunteered to sort out, much to Captain Grant’s obvious surprise.