Titan: We fell in love — in the cruelest of ways

by Fields, MJ

  “Brace for impact! Brace for impact!”

  * * *

  Smoke, fire, searing agony. I open my eyes and look down at the source of the burning pain.

  “Fuck!” I yell when I see shrapnel, once part of my helo, now impaling my leg. If I pull my leg free, it’s going to cause major blood loss.

  I look behind me at my shocked crew. “Evacuate! Find cover and be ready for fire!” Then I look left, ready to rip Scotty a new asshole, but he’s unmoving.

  “Wake up, man. We need to get out of here!” I look out the window and see trucks coming down the hills toward us. “Those aren’t SEALs coming in from the hills, Scotty. We have to get the fuck out of here!”

  Knowing that if I move closer to him, I risk pain and blood loss, I take the risk because I have to.

  I roar as I yank my leg free then lean over and shake Scotty. His head falls forward.

  “Wake up, man! Wake the fuck up!”

  As the sound of bullets crack through the air, I duck for cover and pull him down with me.

  “You need to wake up, Scotty. We need to get the fuck out of here. Those snap, crackles, and pops aren’t fucking breakfast cereal.”

  I know the reality of this situation. I know he’s gone. But …. “Not leaving you here, Scotty. Gonna come to your side and get you out.”

  I use every bit of strength I have, hoisting my body through the wreckage. My first step, I land on my fucking face.

  “Go, go, go!”

  I look right and see Shadows running toward me. Then I hear a whistle as I try to pull myself up.

  “Titan, take cover!”

  “Gotta get him out! Gotta get him—”

  Impact, explosion, and I’m flying through the air.

  I hear Shadows yell, “Get him and go, go, go!”

  “We got you, Lieutenant Titan,” Rozzi, Shadows’ copilot says, pulling me away from the smoke, sand, and bullets flying everywhere.

  I look back and see Shadows pulling Scotty through the smoke.

  “Go help him! That’s an order!” I pull away from the men.

  Using an unknown source of strength, I am able to stand. Then, when I hear an ear-piercing scream, I scan my surroundings and, through the smoke, see a crying girl just a few feet away. I fight with whatever strength I have left to stop myself from throwing up when I see her hugging a body that is half-gone.

  “Help me. Help me. American, help me,” the young, native child says in English.

  As I get closer to her, I see her arm is covered in blood and is severely lacerated. She must be in pain, yet she’s more concerned with the dead woman. It shocks me.

  “American, American,” she cries. “Help me.”

  I move toward her as smoke and sand litter the air, and when I stretch out my hand, she takes it. Together, we move slowly toward Shadows’ bird.

  “Mama, Mama,” she cries.

  “I’m so sorry, little one.”

  Then everything goes black.

  8

  Crossing Continents

  Laurie

  “Dr. O’Neil.”

  I look up from my desk as the head of the hospital barges into my office.

  “Dr. Ward.” I stand, sticking out my hand to shake his hand.

  “I was contacted by a Commander Smith from the US Navy with an unusual request.”

  My heart immediately begins to beat faster as I nod.

  “He’d like you to fly to Germany. He didn’t give me further details than that.”

  Again, I nod, already mentally thinking about who will take care of my daughter while I am away.

  “Dr. O’Neil, is that a yes?”

  “It is.”

  “He’s coming in to give you details and said you’d only be gone a week.”

  “I’ll use my vacation time.”

  “You don’t have to use any of your vacation time, Dr. O’Neil. But I’m very curious as to what the Navy wants with my emergency room coordinator and top surgeon.”

  “I have no idea,” I answer honestly.

  “Okay then. Let’s hope this doesn’t hurt the care of any of our patients.” He turns to leave but pauses to look back at me when he reaches the door. “This have anything to do with Jaxson Irons?”

  “No idea, Stan.”

  “It’s Dr. Ward here, Dr. O’Neil,” he reprimands.

  “I have no idea, Dr. Ward.” I try to keep my annoyance hidden from him, but it’s difficult right now when I’m worried about the possibilities of Shadows or Titan being hurt, or maybe something that would tie in with my secret.

  He smiles, though I can tell it’s forced. “As one of your father’s friends, I’ll forgive the slip.”

  I smile back. “I appreciate it.”

  Stanley Ward served with my father while stationed in DC when we lived in Barracks Row. He was just recently appointed to a position I had hoped to fill, despite my age. He is an arrogant ass who has always given off an unlikable vibe.

  As soon as he walks out, my phone rings. Francesca Irons.

  “I was just about to call you,” I tell her.

  “So you’ve heard.”

  My pulse quickens. “I’ve heard nothing except I’m going to Germany and Smith is coming here to talk to me. I’ll be gone a week.”

  “Thank God you’ll be there,” she says. Before I have the chance to ask her what the hell is going on, she says, “Jax, Laurie is going.”

  “Frankie, what the hell is going on?” I ask.

  “There was an accident.”

  I sit down.

  “Titan was hurt pretty badly but is refusing to let the doctors do what they need to do until Shadows is found.”

  “Where is Shadows?” I ask.

  “They don’t know.”

  “How the hell do you lose a man on a mission?”

  “We’re getting bits and pieces. All we know now is that Titan is alive, and he’s fighting every person around him. We asked Smith to send someone he trusted. We asked for you. I hope that’s okay. Jax—”

  “Is healing, and I will figure it out.”

  “Let me take care of Calee while you’re gone.”

  “Thank you, Frankie. I’ll pick her up from preschool and have her there shortly.”

  I look at the clock. It’s only three in the afternoon, but it already feels like a long day.

  * * *

  We are all creatures of habit and thrive best on a schedule. At four years old, Calee has hers down pat. So, picking her up early with her bags packed and in the car is as far beyond as normal as it gets.

  “Awe we going to see Ganma?”

  It dawns on me that it’s the only place we’ve ever gone. That realization saddens me.

  “I have to go away for work, so Frankie, Jaxson, and Lily thought you’d like to stay with them.”

  “All night?” she asks as I buckle her in her seat.

  “All week.” I smile big for her.

  She looks at me curiously. “I can’t go with you and Gamma come, too?”

  “Not this time. It’s far away, and I have to fly in a plane, so …”

  “Who will sing me to sweep, Mommy?”

  “I will, on FaceTime.” I kiss her head then quickly step back to close the door.

  When I start our drive, she asks, “Who’s gonna tuck me’s in?”

  “I bet Frankie will.”

  “And Lily?”

  “I’m sure if you ask, she’d love that.”

  “Will she sweep with me’s?”

  “I’m not sure, little light, but if you ask, I bet she’d consider it.”

  “What if I don’t like hewas snacks?’

  “I have all your favorites packed up, and if you run out, I bet they know where the store is.”

  “I can tell ’em, too.”

  “Of course you can.”

  We arrive at Frankie’s house, and as we walk up to the door, it opens, and Frankie greets us. “Calee, you’re finally here! We’ve been waiting forever.”

  *
* *

  Leaving her was not easy. It never is. It’s why I don’t do it often.

  It took nearly two years after she was born to realize it wasn’t healthy to not have me time. My best friend and roommate, Diane, convinced me that it was good for both of us. If I was going to raise a strong, independent woman, I needed to be a role model by showing her that sometimes moms need to do things for themselves. Diane was right, so I try to do it once a week.

  For a few months, I searched and found a woman through a coworker’s recommendation who was willing to come to the house once a week so I could go out. After a background check, I hired her. There are times when Sandy, my babysitter’s daughter, comes to watch her, too, but only when I’m only going to be gone for two hours or less. I never go far. Normally to get a manicure, back to the hospital, to the gym, or sometimes I simply sit in the car, knowing I need time for myself to be the best mother I can be. I have never crossed an ocean without her, but I’m on a mission myself—one that will no doubt be difficult.

  Commander Smith informed me of what was going on as soon as I accepted the mission.

  Titan’s Black Hawk had been shot down, his copilot dead, and one of his best friends was missing in action. His leg was severely infected, though he wasn’t cooperating with getting any care. And the little girl he had saved was having her arm amputated and would likely be sent back to her country, a country where women were treated as possessions, mistreated, and abused. Titan was fighting for her to come to our country where she could easily learn to live with her disability.

  All these things have apparently made him irrational, temperamental, and he is putting himself in grave danger. Add to that, he refuses to leave Germany until Shadows is found.

  He has no idea I’m coming, and I’m nervous about how he will react once he sees me.

  * * *

  Fourteen hours later, I’m walking into Titan’s hospital room.

  “You came at the right time. We just knocked the tyrant out,” the nurse jokes.

  Even asleep, he doesn’t look peaceful.

  “I’m going to respectfully request that you act professional and demand that you keep your snide comments to yourself.”

  All amusement drains from her face, and she raises an eyebrow. “And I’m going to have to ask you for your visitor’s pass.”

  I hold up the badge. “Take a look then get me his chart.”

  “I’ll return with his chart after I confirm you have the authorization to look it over. And I will remind you”—she eyes my visitor’s badge—“Dr. O’Neil, that this isn’t a civilian hospital—I don’t answer to you.”

  I eye her nametag. “Well, Sergeant Peterson, you do answer to him—he outranks you—and I am here on his behalf, so do your research in a timely manner.”

  She storms out of the room, and I hear her mutter, “Fucking civilians!” Thankfully, she leaves a tray full of supplies.

  I quickly check his vitals and look him over. When I uncover his leg, I cringe.

  “What in the hell are you doing here?”

  “Thought they knocked you out?”

  He lifts his hand and spits a pill into it. “I fall asleep, and they’ll cut my fucking leg off.”

  I reach up to feel his head, but he turns away.

  “Leave me the hell alone, Doc.”

  “Don’t be an ass, Titan.”

  “Was it not you who just tore that nurse up for being unprofessional?”

  “She doesn’t get to talk about you like that. She doesn’t know you from the hundreds of other soldiers in this hospital. I happen to have firsthand knowledge of what a pain in the ass you can be, so I will take it upon myself to call bullshit as I see fit.”

  “You’ve just taken stage-five clinger to another level, Doc.”

  I laugh out loud, and he scowls.

  “Let me clear this up for you. My boss came to see me about a special assignment requested by Cdr. Smith. So maybe I should ask why you requested me to be here and point out that this is one hell of a stunt to play in order to get pity pussy.”

  He gasps. “I didn’t request a fucking thing from you.”

  I shrug. “That makes two of us. I’m here as your healthcare proxy, so stop being an asshole and talk to me, Tanner.”

  “Don’t give a fuck about what’s happening to me right now. I want answers about Shadows and the girl.”

  “There is no news yet on Shadows, and I don’t know what else I should tell you, because it’s probably above your security clearance.”

  His jaw twitches. “Don’t fuck with me, Doc. Tell me what you know.”

  “I need your word, Lieutenant, that I have your trust when it comes to advising you on what to do for your health before anything comes out of these lips.”

  When he looks down at my lips, his chest rises and falls. After a few stalled seconds, he looks back in my eyes. “I’d rather die than have my fucking leg cut off, Doc.”

  “I think you’re forgetting you have an extra.”

  “You making dick jokes right now?” he asks harshly.

  “Do I have your word?”

  He nods.

  “They believe Shadows is being held near where you crashed.” I swallow hard as his eyes fill with hurt, pain, and anger. “They think he’s alive, Tanner. That’s good news.”

  “I need to speak to Irons.”

  “They told me not to let you have a phone,” I say as I hand him mine. “Don’t make me regret my choices.”

  I watch as he hits a bunch of numbers, none that I recognize. None have the Norfolk or its surrounding’s area code.

  He looks at me as he holds the phone to his ear. “Secure line.”

  I nod.

  “Could you lock that door?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  When I turn to walk away, he says, “This is a hospital room, not a bedroom, Doc. Tanner works.”

  I turn quickly. “What?”

  “You called me sir.”

  “Get over yourself.” I roll my eyes then walk to the door and lock it.

  “This isn’t Laurie, and how the fuck do you think I’m doing?”

  I look back as he runs a hand up his scruffy face and through his hair. The man is as stunning as he is stubborn.

  “You better tell them to get on it, because you and I both know what the current political fucks are going to say.”

  I sit down in the chair next to his bed.

  “Who do we have?” He looks over at me, eyes narrowed as he listens to Jaxson. “No, fuck that. Whoever the asshole was in the pre-deployment briefing had informants who clearly got paid more from the local militia than our government so they could blow us out of the sky.” He rolls his eyes at whatever Jaxson says. “No, fuck that. CIA brought me down here and got Shadows captured. I think, if we need outside help, we go to JTF or do it our-fucking-selves.”

  He jolts up and grasps his leg. “Irons, if I could get the fuck out of here, I’d be there. You and I are stuck. Get the boys on it. We have the funds.” There’s a pause as he rubs his leg. “I don’t care if I have to sell everything I own.”

  When he starts hitting his leg, I push his hand away then begin therapeutic massage to help alleviate some of his pain. Although, by the look of his leg, it isn’t going to do much but maybe give some comfort.

  “I know you would, too, dammit.” He lies back. “I know you would. I think you ought to move your crew up to the cabin for a few days until we know if this is tied in with all the other shit, too.”

  He looks down at me. “No, I didn’t know you had Calee, but that makes me feel better. Get Rosa and Will—” There’s a beat of silence. “She’s an intelligent woman, Irons. She doesn’t scare easy, and I’m sure her daughter’s safety is most important.”

  He pauses and covers the phone. “He wants to know if you’re okay with them going to the cabin or if you’ll feel better if they waited until your parents—”

  “The cabin is fine.”

  With the phone still covere
d, he asks, “Your father worked with JTF, correct?”

  I look up at him then quickly away.

  “Does he have contacts that may—”

  “No.”

  When I realize he’s staring at me curiously, I respond, “It’s been many years.”

  I feel his intense gaze locked on me as I continue rubbing his leg, hoping it helps. Then I look at the door, realizing the bitchy nurse hasn’t returned. It pisses me off.

  When I start to stand, he grabs my hand, stopping me from moving. “Please wait,” he mouths.

  He uncovers the phone and asks, “And the girl?” He listens intently to Jaxson’s response. “I don’t give a fuck if she is two or twenty-two. She was a kid holding onto a body half-blown to bits. She was asking for help, Jax. I blacked out while I was dragging her behind me, her arm half-dangling off her. I wanna know if she got on the helicopter and if she’s here.”

  Irons says something that seems to settle him down.

  “Fine, when you get answers, get in touch with Doc.” Pause. “I’m not leaving here until I know he’s coming home.” Another pause. “You, too.”

  He lets go of my hand and hangs up. “That bill’s not gonna be cheap. Let me know what I owe you.”

  “I’m a doctor.” I take my phone back. “I can handle it.”

  “You have a brand-new car and are mortgaged up the ass. I know what you make and what you spend. And before you get pissy, I know you want what’s best for—”

  “I’m a twenty-nine-year-old doctor, homeowner, and mother. I’m not going to apologize or act like I’m ashamed of a mortgage or car payment, Lieutenant. I’m in the best school district—”

  “You’re getting pissy.”

  “You’re being an ass.”

  His lip curls up, and then he looks down, and I follow his gaze.

  “Well”—I stand up—“at least we know the infection hasn’t spread to your dick yet.”

  “Involuntary muscle movement.”

  I walk to the door and unlock it then turn back to look at him. “Call it what you want, but the reality is a penis isn’t a ‘love muscle;’ it’s two chambers that fill with blood when you get aroused.”