by Nancy Adams
“You don’t have to tell me everything, Bruce,” she grumbled. “Just what you can. Maybe you can tell me the press release,” she chuckled. Bruce smiled, but didn’t say anything. Ange sparked. “You can’t tell me anything?”
“It’s not good, Sarah,” he said softly.
Sarah frowned. “Okay. Well, I spoke with Adam last night.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? How is he?”
“Good. He said everything is going according to plan.” As she spoke, she watched Bruce studiously. His face hardened at her words, but he remained silent, and only nodded.
“I bet you’ll be happy when he returns, right?”
Sarah smiled. Bruce wasn’t going to give up any information. He was always really good, or bad, about that.
“Absolutely,” she paused. “You know, he told me he wasn’t going to reup last night.” Finally, she had a reaction. Bruce sputtered on his coffee, and a bit even dribbled down his lip. He caught himself and stared at Sarah hard.
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked, smiling slightly. Bruce chuckled, and lowered the coffee mug to the table. He stared at it for a moment, and then turned to Sarah.
“Are you serious about that?” he asked, slightly confused.
Sarah looked over Bruce again. He was a fairly handsome man. He had to be. He was a Marine Corps officer, for goodness sake, and a young Major at that. His hair still had full color, and his body was hemmed and honed like that of a fine Olympian athlete. She didn’t know much about his personal life, other than the fact that he didn’t seem to be taken with the idea of marriage. At least he knew where he stood.
“Yes, but...” Sarah narrowed her eyes at him and pointed. “Don’t you dare mention that to him, okay? Please?”
Bruce nodded, and then drew two fingers across his lips, like he was sealing them closed.
“And then I’m gonna take this key—” he dangled his two pinched fingers in the air, “and put it in my niffy box here.” He used his other hand, and held it out flat. Sarah giggled.
“Are you watching me?” he asked, grinning back. Sarah laughed, and he smiled. “I’m gonna toss them in—” he gestured with his actions, “and toss it out.” He finished by tossing the box over his shoulder. Sarah jumped.
“Watch out!” she exclaimed. Bruce’s eyes widened, “You can’t go around throwing imaginary boxes like that, you’ll wake Ruthie up.”
“I’m already up, Mommy,” answered a small voice. Sarah heard the voice first, and then saw the tuff of blond hair a second before her daughter’s body emerged from the hallway to the back of the house. Ruth was holding a stuffed dog, a puppy husky. She held it around its front paw and rubbed her eyes.
“I want water,” Ruth croaked. Sarah caught Bruce’s eyes and laughed. She nodded towards her daughter.
“Sure thing, baby,” she pushed herself from the countertop and moved closer to Bruce, near the Keurig, to retrieve a cup for her daughter.
“Hey, Brucie,” Ruth said with a grin.
Bruce watched her. “Hey, Ruth. You sleep well last night?”
Ruth didn’t answer. She just stared at Bruce and shifted her weight. When Sarah brought her the short toddler cup filled with water, she dropped her dog and grabbed it with both hands, drinking greedily.
“How much time until the conference?” Sarah asked, turning back to Bruce.
“I’ll need to be leaving in a few,” Bruce answered, glancing nonchalantly at his watch.
“Can’t stay for breakfast?” Sarah asked. She didn’t want to admit it, but having another male around Ruth sometimes made her a bit easier to handle. Bruce wrinkled his nose, and then smiled at Ruth as she finally acknowledged him with a weak wave.
“I’ll probably just need to take the bagel to go.” He looked to Sarah again. “I already ate, remember?”
Sarah nodded. It was probably better this way anyway. Soon, her husband would be home, and then she wouldn’t be so desperate for adult interaction. The bagels had long since finished toasting. That meant she had missed the prime time to butter them, when the heat from the bagel was just enough to melt the butter and soften the toasted bread to perfection.
No matter. She knew Ruth didn’t care about the prime time to butter a bagel, and she’d be shocked if Bruce even cared. Sarah prepared the bagels quickly. She skipped the butter for Ruth’s bagel and only slathered on cream cheese. When she finished preparing Bruce’s halves, she wrapped them in a paper towel and handed them to him. He took them with a warm smile, their fingers touching just slightly. He was warm.
“I’ll call or come back in a couple of days.” He gave her a firm nod and then made his exit. He called out to Ruth one final time, but the young girl didn’t acknowledge him.
Chapter Four
The Split Second
The air around them was so charged Adam felt like it could electrocute him. If he didn’t have a family waiting for him back at home, he was almost positive it was something he would have wished for.
ISIS strikes were increasing by the day.
If they missed their extraction point, they could be stuck in the Middle East for at least another six months. Missing the departure would only mean one thing: an attack, but not just any kind, one that would set their operations back enough to where they would have to fall back, regroup, and replan. They’d have to receive fresh Marines first. That could take at least six weeks. Then, they’d have to wait until that first deployment had acclimated before they could be relieved.
There was no way he could risk missing the exit point, but things were heating up along any decent path where they took their convoys. Orders were changing constantly. First, they were going to wait until the last minute to make the trek towards Baiji, but the commanding officer was too concerned about missing the exit to Egypt to follow suit.
Now they were looking at leaving three days ahead of schedule in order to give them enough time. If they could just make it to Egypt, then they were pretty much guaranteed to make it home safe.
Adam was outside the CO’s tent, waiting for another brief for what he assumed would be another change to the departure.
“Cole, are you out there?” The Colonel barked from inside the tent.
“Yes,” Adam answered quickly. He stood up and entered the sectioned-off room. The table was strewn with maps and loose leafs of paper. The Colonel had salt-and-peppered hair, sun spots on his cheeks, and red eyes.
“You’re not going to like it,” he began with a huff.
Adam’s gut tightened. “Do we need to be ready to mobilize tonight?” he asked with a deep breath.
“That’s not all.” He motioned for Adam to sit down. “The second command of Iraqi forces is being starved out by ISIS along those north-central cities past Baghdad.” He paused and ran a hand across his lips as he thought. “They won’t be able to last without another shipment past this Friday.” Adam frowned, but kept his mouth closed.
“We’re positive we can get this last set of Marines home once we get to Baiji. There will be a 45-minute lag where we’ll need to unload the incoming supplies.”
“Incoming supplies when we’re supposed to be flying out?” Adam questioned, with a voice that was much too hard. His jaw clicked with the news.
The Colonel’s face hardened. With a stern nod, he added, “I’ll need you to coordinate the drop.”
Adam bit his lip and looked down. “Is there no other way to get the supplies?”
“We’ve got one drop coming in the next two weeks for this area, and that is it.” The colonel’s face was hard. He looked over Adam. “Is there a problem?”
Taking a deep breath, Adam sucked air in slowly. After a moment, he shook his head.
“No.”
The Colonel nodded firmly. “Good. I’m going to be counting on you to have everything running smoothly. I know it’s more last-minute work than you intended, but if you get those SNCOs working together, you should have the C-130 unloaded within 30 minutes. That’s you
r window.”
“Got it.” He left the tent seconds later and bit his lip to keep from cursing. He didn’t want to have to worry about anything other than getting his men on that plane and getting out of the Middle East. Every kink added another layer of risk to the departure, and he didn’t like that.
Mobilization happened right on time, twelve hours later. They should have all been asleep at 0200 hours, but everyone in the base was awake and alive. It was time to roll out. 70 men were going to be returning home. He’d likely receive some sort of medal for assisting with the foreign aid to the area on the way out, but Adam couldn’t care less, and didn’t.
The convoy didn’t move fast, but rather inched along the dirt roads of Iraq, where the weather was hardly cold. Yet, the night breeze had dropped by more than thirty degrees, and they most definitely felt the temperature as cold and chilly. Very few actually spoke together, except the young grunts. They always had something to laugh and joke about. They were just kids. Some 18 and 19, just out of high school, with no clue as to where they were going to go in the future, so many of them joined open contract and got stuck with infantry.
The higher the rank, the more solemn the attitude. These people had more to lose: senior enlisted noncommissioned officers, Staff Sergeants that were probably too war-hardened to maintain a decent relationship back in the rear. Still, they had something to look forward to.
Heading home, it was a different feeling altogether for Adam. His mind vacillated between going over the supplies drop and then wondering how his marines would transition once they made it home. He also wondered about himself.
Did he really mean what he had told his wife? He felt he did, with every fiber of his being. Yes, he had originally planned to make a career out of the military. Reaching the level of a high-ranking officer wasn’t going to be easy to do, but once there, it would be completely worth it. That’s what he wanted. Things wouldn’t be so dangerous after that. He’d transition out of the field and combat zones and settle himself behind a desk.
He had made another year where his time in could go either way, but he wasn’t sure it was worth it anymore. He didn’t want his life and luck to be up to chance. With his combat experience, it would be more likely that he would continually be someone who Generals went to as a last resort. He didn’t like that. He didn’t want that.
He didn’t want to miss another year of his child’s life. It just wasn’t up for debate. Seeing his daughter’s life pass through Skype and video calls—it was hardly worth it. He wanted something more, and if it meant giving up his dream career, then it was completely worth it. He’d heard in college that people changed careers up to eight times throughout their adult life. He was resourceful. If it was about stability, he wasn’t worried at all.
Due to the elongated convoy passage, they didn’t cover much ground. To avoid ISIS-controlled areas, they sometimes went as much as five hours out of the way. The journey to the departure point was scheduled to take three days, or just short of 36 hours.
It never ceased to amaze Adam how incredible the human body was, all the stress that it could withstand. They were near their breaking point though, and seeing the C-130 on the portable landing strip outside was enough to make his heart burst with happiness and supply him with the last push needed. This was it—the last hurdle he needed to cross before he would see his wife again.
In 30 minutes, he would be able to rest. In 30 minutes, he would be on his way home. They had been pulling troops 70 deep each week for the past six weeks. One company after another. This would be the last ride home for another six weeks before they started up again. Adam smiled.
Once the vehicles crawled to a stop, he turned and met eyes with a fellow Captain. They all had their orders and their parts to play in getting the bird emptied and ready to take off within 30 minutes. It was go-time.
They learned to move and speak quietly, softly, and efficiently. There were a few lights up, and even that was dangerous. The city of Baiji wasn’t too far from other ISIS-controlled regions. It was a dangerous point to attempt an extraction, but it was the closest city with a landing strip that met the requirements for landing and taking off in the low-flying bird.
Fifteen minutes into the drill and everything seemed to be going as planned. There were several chains started that unloaded the boxed and crated items from the C-130 and moved them to the vehicles that were now empty and awaiting their new cargo.
Adam didn’t know where the vehicles were headed, and he didn’t honestly care. Once his piece of the puzzle was done, he’d be headed towards a forward operating base to meet with other marines that had been pulled from other stations in Iraq. The total number that would fly home together would be 150.
After another ten minutes of shuffling in the dirt, keeping the lines tight while checking the gear manifest, most of the items were out of the belly of the bird. Adam was inside with a Staff Sergeant when he heard the first sound, a shout. He looked towards the lowered ramp of the C-130. There was a bright flash of light and then a deafening sound. He was blinded, and shielded his eyes as a knee-jerk reaction. The large bird shook and shuddered, knocking him and the Staff Sergeant to their knees, and then to their sides.
Their slung weapons were in their hands in the next instant, but there was still disorientation and buzzing in the ears. Adam heard gunfire, audible shouts and loose orders. They were under attack.
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NANCY ADAMS is an Amazon bestselling author of contemporary romance. She's currently single and dreams of one day meeting her prince charming and starting a family. She loves people and loves life. A real "people-person" who sometimes can't stand the noise. During those times, she curls up, shuts the door, and drifts into beautiful fantasy and welcomes all along for the ride. She expresses how she feels and what she wants to feel through her writing, and she doesn't know what she'd do without it. The mere fact that she is able to share her gift with the rest of the world is simply a bonus, and one that brings her nothing but pure joy!
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