Chains of Command

by Lily Harlem

“You’re with me, Jenna,” James said, rushing to the quiet patient.

  Quiet was always the scariest.

  As Jenna dragged on a pair of gloves, she hurried to the opposite side of the trolley.

  It was then she saw him.

  Seb.

  He was her patient.

  He was flat on his back, eyes closed, lips parted. A streak of blood ran over his cheek. His helmet was fractured on the left side, several pieces of metal had peeled away like a macabre petal unfolding.

  “Oh, God,” she gasped, her heart lurching.

  Quickly she scanned the length of him. He still wore body armor—good—but his left arm was soaked in blood. The medics had cut off some of his clothing and attached a thick bandage which was also red.

  “He’s been like this since we picked him up,” the medic said, “GCS eleven. He’s got an entry wound, no exit on the left arm. Helmet left in situ.”

  “Good move,” James said, checking Seb’s carotid pulse.

  Nausea gripped Jenna’s belly. Adrenaline pumped into her blood stream and her breaths were coming quick. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if anything happened to him. They’d only just found each other.

  “We need to get this helmet off,” James said, “and see what damage we’re dealing with.”

  Head trauma.

  Again her heart lurched.

  “Jenna, help me.” James had undone the helmet and moved behind Seb. “Keep some traction on his neck.”

  She placed her hands on Seb’s collarbones, her fingers resting on his throat. She didn’t want to see what damage there was beneath the helmet. It had clearly caught a bullet, and the fact Seb was out cold didn’t fill her with hope.

  James wiggled the helmet then gently slid it off.

  Blood was drying over Seb’s brow and a shallow graze sliced over his skin. There was no deep hole, no brain matter, no chunks of skull.

  “Fuck, look at that.” James peered inside the helmet.

  “What?” Jenna asked.

  “Lucky bastard.” James angled the helmet her way. The inside was badly damaged and wedged into the metalwork was a single bullet. “Missed taking him out by a whisper.”

  “Thank goodness.” Relief washed over her.

  The blood pressure machine bleeped. She turned her attention to it. A little low, but not life threatening.

  “Let’s get fluids going.” James flashed a pen torch into Seb’s eyes, flicking it to check for pupil reaction.

  “What the fuck!” Seb suddenly sat, thrashing his right arm and pushing James out of the way. “Get the hell off me.” He looked at his bandaged arm, then glared at everyone in the room. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

  “No!” Jenna rested her hands on his chest. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Lie down.”

  He stared at her with a confused expression, his eyes glazed. “I have to go and…” He struggled to get off the trolley, but two medics and James held him captive.

  “Major. You’re back at base. Calm down,” James said, his voice calm yet full of authority.

  “No, no.” Panic crossed Seb’s face. “Walker, he’s down. I have to…” He fought the three men pinning him to the trolley. His body was twisting this way and that. Everything rattled. He grunted and moaned.

  “Major!” Jenna trapped his face in her hands. “Stop. You’re safe.”

  “No. No.”

  “Seb. Stop!” she shouted.

  He stilled and stared at her. Recognition suddenly filled his eyes.

  “Seb. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” She stroked her thumbs over his cheeks. “It’s okay.”

  “Jenna,” he said quietly.

  “Yes. You’re at the hospital. You’re okay. We’ll look after you.”

  “But I…”

  “Shh…” She leaned a little closer. “Relax, let us do our job. We need to check you out.”

  “I’m okay.” He nodded. “But there’s still a man out there. I have to…”

  “Major, with all due respect, you need to leave back-up to manage the situation,” one of the medics said. “They were there when we left.”

  Seb pressed his lips together. He didn’t break eye contact with Jenna.

  “It’s okay,” she said, then paused. “Are you calm now?”

  He nodded.

  “You can let him go,” Jenna directed at the field medics. “He’s back with us.”

  They stepped away.

  James hovered, clearly unsure as to whether or not Seb would start lashing out again.

  “Tell them to treat the others before me,” Seb said. “Please, Jenna, I’m okay. My men need looking after first.”

  “There’s plenty of doctors and nurses for everyone. Just relax.”

  “But—”

  “There’s no but, you’ve got a bullet in your arm.” She released him and straightened. “We need to treat you.”

  “A bullet?”

  “Yes. So lie still, Major.” She set the blood pressure cuff to inflate again, then reached for a bag of fluid.

  “You know him?” James asked as he found a vein in Seb’s right arm and slid a cannula in.

  “I’ve seen him about.”

  “No, it’s more than that, you know this guy … well.”

  “I know lots of soldiers on base,” she replied curtly.

  “Of course, we all do. Sorry.” James nodded and took the primed tube of fluid she offered forward. “You did good. A big guy like this, not co-operating, takes up time, staff, and doesn’t help anyone. You talked him down.”

  Seb lay quietly as James removed the bandage and assessed the gunshot wound. “He’ll need to go to theatre. Go see how long it will be till the surgeons are free.”

  “I’ll do it now.” Jenna glanced around. The other soldier brought in with Seb had gone straight to surgery. There was no telling how long he’d be.

  Within five minutes she was back. “Should be a free theatre within the hour.”

  “Good.” James nodded. “The bullet hasn’t caught any major blood vessels or nerves, but the sooner it’s out the better.” He rested his hand on Seb’s shoulder. “We’ll soon get you patched up, Major. You’ve had a close call, but you’ll live to fight another day.”

  “Thank you, doctor, and you know, sorry about before.”

  “Some asshole took a shot at your head and managed to pop a bullet in your arm, I’d say you’re allowed a moment of frustration.”

  Seb swallowed and nodded.

  “Nurse Barlow will take care of you until you go to theatre. I’ll see you later.” James nodded at Jenna. “Make sure those bloods come back before he goes in. The surgeons will want the results.”

  “I will.”

  James disappeared from the room.

  Jenna grasped Seb’s hand, the one on his uninjured arm. “You just scared the crap out of me.”

  “Sorry, babe.”

  “I told you last night to dodge the bullets.”

  “I know.” He glanced away, his brow, now cleaned of blood, creased.

  “What happened out there?”

  “I lost one.” He closed his eyes. “Walker … just a boy.”

  “Shit.” She squeezed his fingers. “I’m sorry.”

  “It happened so fast, there was a sniper, and an IED. Most of us we…” He blew out a breath and opened his eyes. “We got behind this wall, but he didn’t. He was coming up the rear, seemed to have the sniper in his sights then he just … went down.”

  “Shh, it’s okay.”

  “It’s not, Jenna. It’s never okay to lose one of my men.”

  “I know it’s not. That’s not what I meant. But it wasn’t you who shot him.”

  “But I was his superior, I was looking out for him. I failed him.”

  Seb’s eyes were so dull. It was as if hope had drained from his heart. In that moment she couldn’t imagine him smiling again and that hurt the very core of her soul.

  “I’m so sorry.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek.

 
; “Thank goodness you were here,” he said. “Seeing your face made me see sense. I thought I was still out there, in the field. I wasn’t thinking straight. I wanted to get Walker, fight for his life. Fuck … I wanna turn back time.” He raised his hand and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

  “I know. I know. If only we could.”

  An alarm sounded and she checked the monitor. “Here,” she said, reattaching the clip on his finger. “Keep this on.”

  He nodded and closed his eyes.

  “Are you tired?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Shouldn’t be long now.” She stroked his hair back from his forehead and thanked the Lord the bullet had missed his skull. “Sleep if you can.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “You’re on chaperone duty tomorrow,” Marie said, pointing a pen at Jenna as she tidied the clinical room.

  “I am?”

  “Yes. You’ve got bags under your eyes and you’re working way beyond each shift. You need a break and if you won’t take it yourself, I’ll force you.”

  “Okay.”

  Marie raised her eyebrows. “You’re not arguing?”

  “No. I’ll go.”

  “Yeah, she’ll go.” Isabel grinned as she walked into the room.

  Jenna frowned at her friend. She’d told Isabel about her relationship with Seb—apart from the awesome sex in his quarters, some things were best kept quiet—and Isabel knew Seb was being sent back to the UK the next day to recover from his injuries.

  “What’s going on?” Marie asked.

  Jenna shrugged.

  Isabel’s eyes twinkled. “Jenna has a bit of a thing for the handsome major.”

  “Major Crawley?” Marie asked.

  “The very one.” Isabel’s grin widened.

  “Isabel…” Jenna held up her hands. “What happened to in confidence?”

  “Oh, do tell,” Marie said, slipping the pen into her pocket and rubbing her hands. “Haven’t had any gossip for ages.”

  “It’s not gossip,” Jenna said, slapping Isabel on the arm.

  Isabel feigned injury. “Aw, tell Marie, she can keep a secret.”

  “As well as you can?”

  “To be honest.” Marie shrugged. “His gaze follows you around the ward, Jenna. It’s not really the best kept secret on camp.”

  “So what is the best secret on camp?” Jenna asked, trying to deflect attention.

  Marie chuckled. “And you do give him a bit of extra time, don’t you?”

  “We’re friends.”

  “Yeah, friends with benefits.” Isabel laughed.

  “And I thought you were a friend.” Jenna frowned.

  “Oh, come on woman.” Isabel drew Jenna into a tight hug. “I’m more than a friend, I’m your sister in arms. And I’m thrilled for you. Love doesn’t touch us often in this world, so if you find someone who makes your heart beat faster, who makes you feel that there is good out there, and a future, go for it.”

  Jenna sighed and hugged her back. “Thanks, Is.”

  “I second that,” Marie said. “And I won’t say a word. Promise.”

  Jenna stepped away. “Thanks, it’s still new. I don’t want to jinx anything.”

  “You won’t.” Isabel said. “But soldiers are complex creatures, especially those who’ve seen death.”

  “The same way nurses have,” Marie added.

  “Which means you’ll understand each other.” Isabel took Jenna’s hand. “He lost a guy out there, he’s going to beat himself up about that.”

  Jenna smiled sadly. “He already is.”

  “All the more reason for you to go on chaperone,” Marie said. “He’ll be going to Redwoods for convalescing then home.”

  “And I’ll be back here.”

  “It’s how it is.” Isabel shrugged.

  “I know.”

  “But you’ll get forty-eight hours with him. Make it count,” Isabel said.

  “Yeah, behind every strong man is a strong woman,” Marie added.

  “Teamwork,” Jenna said. “They make each other strong.” She’d never thought she’d say that. So many years of being single, of making her own way, had ingrained independence into her psyche. But Seb did make her feel strong. All the crap that was going on, knowing she was going to be with him, even for a short time in the UK, gave her an inner strength. The next few days would be hard, as would be the next few months, but they’d get through it…together.

  ****

  As the Hercules took off, gaining height fast to avoid ground missiles, Jenna was pressed into her seat.

  The five nurses and one doctor had six patients on stretchers, and fifteen walking wounded, to care for on the journey.

  Seb was walking wounded. The bullet had been removed from his arm, and now it was dressed and held in a sling. He’d need an intense course of physiotherapy once the wound had healed, but there was no reason he wouldn’t get full use back.

  As soon as the plane leveled out the pilot turned off the seatbelt sign.

  The next two hours were spent completing observation tasks, checking everyone was comfortable and handing out routine medication.

  “How are you doing?” Jenna asked, sitting next to Seb.

  “Makes me feel pathetic.”

  “What does?” She frowned.

  “Leaving my squadron behind, because of this.” He shifted his arm in the sling. “I could stay, work on getting fit again there. I’d soon be on the front line again.”

  “You need a break from combat.”

  “No. I don’t.”

  “You were shot at and hit.” She pressed her hand over his. “Don’t fight the system, it won’t help.”

  He sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “I am. You can’t change the rules of the British Army.”

  “I’m going to Redwood for a week, then to stay with my mother.” He paused. “She’ll fuss me to death.”

  Jenna chuckled. “Let her. Can’t be easy for her knowing you’re risking your life every day.”

  “I guess.”

  “Nurse Barlow,” the doctor called. “Could you help me with this monitor. Cantankerous bloody thing.”

  “Be right there,” Jenna said. “Try and get some rest, Major.”

  “That’s all I’m going to hear for months, right.”

  “For a few weeks at least.” She resisted the urge to press a kiss to his cheek, then went to help the doctor.

  ****

  The landing into Brize Norton was smooth. The English spring was being kind and the south-westerly wind light.

  Within an hour of touch down, Jenna was at Redwood Military Convalescent Facility. All the walking wounded had been brought here for assessment, physical and psychological, and the more seriously injured taken to the military hospital for on-going specialist care.

  “Here’s the notes for this batch,” Jenna said, handing over a stash of paperwork to the charge nurse.

  “Thanks. They make us a full house.” She shook her head. “Could really do with soldiers not getting hurt any more.”

  “Couldn’t we all.” Jenna sighed. “I’m going to go check on Major Crawley. He’s got some medication due, antibiotics. Shall I take it?”

  “Yes, thanks, saves me a trip up the stairs. Tell him I’ll come say hi later, once he’s settled in.”

  “I will.”

  Jenna headed up the wide staircase to the first level. Redwood was an old stately home which had been converted to house twenty-seven personnel. Set in twelve acres of landscaped garden and woodland it was a haven of calm efficiency-the ideal place to shake off the sounds of bombs, gunfire, and screams.

  She stuck her head around the door of one of the other patient’s she’d chaperoned. “You okay, Charlie?”

  “I’ve got my feet on British soil, nurse, so yeah, I’m bloody smashing.” He grinned and the stitches in his cheek crinkled.

  “You need anything, just ring that bell, okay.”

  “Does that include beer and hot
women?” He grabbed his crutches and hopped to the bed.

  “It’s worth asking.” She laughed. “You might get lucky.”

  She pulled up the door, hoping Charlie would cope mentally with having lost four of his friends on one patrol. He was in the right place to get the help he needed.

  Standing outside room fifteen, she hesitated. The man she was falling in love with was behind that door. And although he was physically going to be okay, he needed to work through his demons of guilt if he was ever going to get back out there and fight.

  I don’t want him back out there.

  She shoved that thought down. Seb was a soldier. She couldn’t change who he was. She didn’t want to. But what she could do was support him so he was the best he could be, and thinking straight when on the front line was essential.

  She pushed open the door, holding the little plastic pot containing his pill. “Hey.”

  He was sitting on a wooden chair, staring out of a large bay window at the grounds. He didn’t speak.

  She closed the door with a quiet click and walked silently over the carpeted floor. After setting the tablet on a polished wooden dresser, she drew level with him.

  “It’s a beautiful view,” she said, resting her hand on his shoulder.

  “Is it?” He shook his head as if pulling from a daydream. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Seb.” She stroked his hair. “Talk to me.”

  He looked up at her. “I have to go and see them.”

  “Who?”

  “Walker’s parents.”

  She pulled in a breath.

  “It will be the fourth time I’ve done it.” He paused. “Tell a mother and father the circumstance of their son’s death.”

  “Oh, Seb.” Her throat tightened. “I wish there was something I could do to make it easier for you.”

  “If it was easy…” His eyes misted. “Then I’d be really scared.”

  “Yes.” Emotion was ballooning in her chest. “It should never be easy when people die.”

  He kept his attention on her face, as if trying to see into her thoughts.

  She didn’t bother swiping away a tear that fell from her right eye and tracked down her cheek.

  A matching tear drifted down his cheek, then another and another. He tried to hide a sob, but it gurgled up from his chest at the same time he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.