Base

by Cathleen Ross

  Wow she had it bad.

  A huge cheer rose up, echoing off the walls as Mike and Vassar strode in behind Jack. Mike looked like he’d had a shower and was wearing his uniform. He wore a grin from ear to ear and he’d taken his bandage off his neck, the raw bite mark a badge of honour. Ruth stared around her. Jack had never complained, not once, about leading these men in a world gone mad and they’d follow him anywhere.

  The captain motioned for everyone to resume their seats. ‘Before we eat I want to welcome Mike. I don’t have to tell you that his coming back from a bite is unprecedented. It’s thanks to Lea’s antiviral and my favourite doctor’s tender care. He’s not out of danger yet but I’ve asked him to eat with us before he goes back to the cells.’

  The roar of approval broke out again.

  ‘Well done, girls. This means a lot to us.’ Armstrong leaned over and gave her and Lea a pat on the back.

  When Ruth surveyed the intense faces of the men, she realised Jack was right. They needed a win after the loss of one of their own today. Already the numbers were thinning out in the Mess as they lost men. She had several sailors injured in the hospital and a team of commandos had gone out on rotation while others were guarding the perimeter of the base. The duties were relentless yet somehow Jack managed to keep people motivated.

  She had it bad for him. He was a man she could respect, who did what he said he would do. It was his vision that had saved them from certain death against all odds. No man’s arms around her had ever felt like his. Jack made her feel as safe as she could ever be in this terrifying world.

  ‘Enjoy your meal tonight. I understand the ladies in the kitchen have worked hard with our chef to produce something special.’ Jack nodded at the men, then he, Vassar and Mike came to join them at the officers’ table. The steward placed a plate containing sausages sitting on a bed of mashed potato and some fresh green peas in front of Ruth. She sniffed the sausages trying to identify the scent. They had a peppery smell and something else she didn’t recognise.

  ‘Eat up, Ruth, these sausages are handmade,’ Jack said, cutting into his. ‘The ladies worked all day to make them.’

  Ruth cut into her sausage, noticing the oil spilling over onto her mash. ‘Do I want to know what zoo animal I’m eating?’

  ‘Probably not,’ Jack said, chewing contentedly. ‘So glad we’ve got meat back on the menu. Can you cook, Ruth? Do you think you could make something as good as this?’

  ‘Hey, Jack, what did you mean by, “women in the kitchen”? Is that where the rest of the females are?’ Sue cut in before Ruth could answer.

  ‘Sure. Why do you ask?’ Jack glanced at Sue before falling back to his meal.

  Ruth noticed he could eat an incredible amount, yet his body had no fat at all.

  ‘Ruth said you kept the extra women as sex slaves,’ Sue called out cheekily.

  Jack put his fork down, glanced at Ruth, his expression amused at her mortification. ‘I save my kink for Ruth. She’s everything I need.’

  ‘Thanks, Sue, for bringing that up.’ Ruth kept her eyes on her plate and picked at her meal, ignoring the chuckles of the men around her. For the first time, she wanted to be everything Jack needed. Never had she thought that way before. She’d like to cook for Jack, not that she knew much beyond basics. She’d never had time. Her work had always consumed her, but Lea was right, things were different now. She glanced back to Jack under her eyelashes, wishing she weren’t surrounded by men because she longed to run her hands over his head now his hair was growing that imperceptible bit longer. Every moment when he wasn’t holding her seemed a waste of time. Life was precious.

  ‘You’re welcome, Ruth.’ Sue grinned.

  Deciding to ignore them, Ruth cast a look past Jack at Mike who was sitting two down from her talking with Vassar. Mike’s skin had a pallor about it that didn’t sit easily with her.

  Jack took a sip of his beer. ‘Despite Ruth’s low opinion of navy men we’re lucky to have found you girls. You’ve added a fantastic skill set we men don’t have. The cooks were holed up in one of the Italian restaurants on Military Road. Great, aren’t they?’

  ‘Why haven’t we met them?’ Ruth asked, refusing to bite to Jack’s teasing.

  ‘They’re quite elderly. They prefer to eat in the kitchen with our cook and retire early. Do you know they’ve used sheep’s intestines for the sausages? They told me that’s the old way of doing it. It’s amazing what they can do with offal. They waste nothing.’ Jack forked up some potato and sausage and put it in his mouth.

  ‘Offal?’ Ruth took a gulp of water from her glass. Intestines? She pushed her sausage aside and sat back, appetite gone. She noticed Mike picking over his food too, though he’d added a large puddle of truffle oil on his potato mash. A sheen of perspiration gathered on his brow. Sure it was warm, but she wasn’t sweating and she didn’t think Mike should be. Hell. Had Jack noticed?

  The steward came around with a platter and Ruth selected a slice of meat. She picked up her knife and fork, delighted to eat something that looked like a steak. ‘Yum. This is nice.’ She knew it wasn’t the elephant because she’d seen him grazing just outside the building.

  Jack, who had already polished off his sausages, helped himself to the meat from the platter, cut it up and took a bite. ‘Tasty. You were right, Armstrong.’

  ‘Told you the lace monitor makes good tucker,’ Armstrong said. ‘Do you know that the lace monitor is the only lizard that has a forked tongue like a snake?’

  ‘Please tell me you didn’t just say the word lizard,’ Ruth said, putting her fork down.

  ‘Goanna. Quite an earthy taste. Lives off rats and road kill,’ Armstrong said winking at Sue before spearing a piece of meat with his fork.

  ‘Armstrong!’ Ruth glared at him.

  Sue burst into laughter.

  ‘Survival in the bush 101. Best training course a service man can do.’ Armstrong flashed her his megawatt grin.

  ‘Loved that course,’ Jack agreed. ‘Never thought we’d find it so useful.’

  A shattering sound, sharp and discordant, slammed across Ruth’s nerves.

  Mike stood and staggered towards the door. His wine glass and plate lay on the floor in pieces, the red wine a blood red stain on the tablecloth.

  She sprang to her feet and grabbed her medical bag. ‘Oh hell.’

  A deep groan left Mike’s lips and he fell like a pole-axed bull, his whole body rigid onto the floor. His eyes rolled back in his head as his arms and legs thrashed.

  Ruth raced towards Mike. ‘Vassar, hold Mike down.’

  Vassar surged forward, his gun already out of his holster.

  Jack followed him.

  ‘Don’t kill him,’ Ruth screamed on seeing Vassar take aim.

  ‘Get back, Ruth.’ Vassar stood behind his thrashing brother’s head, his gun pointed at Mike’s skull, his face forbidding. ‘I promised Mike I wouldn’t let him turn.’

  Jack grabbed Ruth and pulled her away.

  ‘Damn you, Jack, let me go. I need to check Mike.’

  ‘You’re not going near him.’ His arms coiled around her torso so that she was forced to drop her medical bag to the ground.

  All around them men surged forward, faces grim and weapons drawn.

  ‘Jack, let me go. I need to check his eyes. Please. I’m not stupid enough to examine him unless he’s restrained.’ Ruth struggled against Jack’s grip, appalled that he wouldn’t release her. There were enough men here to contain the flaying man.

  ‘Don’t kill him. Pinion him,’ Jack ordered his men. ‘Quit struggling, Ruth. You don’t go near Mike until I say.’

  ‘Fine by me,’ she said through gritted teeth, though Jack relaxed his grip on her.

  Armstrong and three other sailors pinned Mike’s arms and legs.

  ‘Vassar, I’m going to hold Mike’s head. If he’s turning, use a spear not your gun. I don’t want the men or Ruth splattered,’ Jack ordered.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Vassar said, shea
thing his weapon before grabbing a wall-mounted spear.

  Jack released Ruth, squatted behind Mike and placed his hands either side of Mike’s face forcing him to still. ‘Ruth, examine him. Make it quick.’

  Face foreboding, Vassar stood next to Jack, one hand forming a fist around his spear, poised to kill.

  Ruth grabbed her torch out of her bag.

  Mike groaned and arched his back, his face contorting in pain. Sweat beaded on his forehead and began dribbling down into his hair. The front of his shirt was drenched and the same funky smell that Ruth had noticed oozed out of his body. For a moment his whole body slumped and he opened his eyes looking up into his brother’s face. ‘Kill me. It’s taking me over. Please, Tom. Don’t let me hurt anyone.’

  ‘Sure, buddy.’ Tears ran down Vassar’s cheeks as he bent over Mike, his tears dropping onto his brother’s face.

  ‘You promised me. Make the pain stop.’ Mike’s whole body began to spasm.

  ‘I will, mate.’ Vassar choked back sobs as grief struck him.

  In the background, Ruth heard Sue wail. Ruth squatted next to Jack and shone her torch into Mike’s right eye. ‘No broken capillaries.’

  ‘Call it, Ruth,’ Jack said.

  Ruth turned to Jack. ‘He hasn’t turned yet. Get him back to his cell. I’ll put him on a drip and inject him with the antiviral.’

  Vassar’s face contorted with fury. ‘For God’s sake, Ruth, I want to put Mike out of his misery.’

  Ruth examined Mike’s other eye before staring Vassar down. ‘He’s alive. You can’t pierce his brain until he dies.’

  ‘He’s not some damned guinea pig. The antiviral isn’t working. You know he’s going to turn,’ Vassar roared. ‘He wants this to stop.’

  Hell Vassar was losing it and it made him dangerous. Ruth turned to Jack instead. ‘His pupils are contracting normally. Jack, get him back to the cells. Make sure he’s bound and gagged for safety.’ While Mike had a hope, slim that it was, she was not going to let Vassar end his life.

  ‘Hunter, get the restraints,’ Jack ordered.

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Hunter ran from the Mess.

  Vassar’s eyes protruded, his fists clenched as he loomed over her and Jack. ‘Damn you all to hell. This is my brother. He wants out.’

  Ruth’s heart slapped against her chest. This was going to get ugly. She had to find some way to calm him down. ‘Vassar, I can sedate him so he’s not in pain.’

  ‘Let him live, Vassar.’ Armstrong looked up from his position holding Mike’s left arm down. ‘He’s my mate too. He might beat this.’

  ‘My brother has suffered enough. I vowed to look after him. This is not your call, Armstrong, and not yours either, Ruth.’ The veins on Vassar’s neck bulged and his jaw tightened.

  Ruth on seeing Vassar’s fury climbed to her feet and positioned herself in front of Vassar, a mountain of a man. She knew he’d never hurt her but the man was so pissed off she could taste it. ‘While I live and breathe as his doctor, it’s my call.’

  ‘Kill me,’ Mike groaned in agony, his whole body arching off the floor.

  Vassar hunched, his knuckles white on the spear, ready to kill. ‘Get out of my way, Ruth.’

  ‘No! Mike’s my patient.’

  ‘Ruth. Vassar. Step apart now,’ Jack roared.

  Ruth looked back at Jack who was maintaining his position holding Mike’s head.

  In that second, Vassar swept around her, raised his spear and plunged it downward.

  ‘Bloody hell.’ Armstrong sprang from his squatting position beside Mike and used his shoulder to tackle Vassar to the ground. The spear clattered to the floor beside them as Armstrong fought to contain Vassar.

  ‘Oh God, Jack, Vassar’s going to kill Armstrong,’ Ruth said.

  ‘Don’t worry, Ruth, Armstrong can look after himself. Focus on Mike. Is he turning?’

  Ruth dragged her gaze away from the brawling men to check on Mike. ‘I don’t know.’

  Mike’s eyes rolled back in his head and he convulsed, his free hand clenched on Jack’s wrist, his fingernails digging into his forearm.

  ‘Watch his hand. Don’t let him pierce your skin,’ Ruth warned Jack. She could hardly think straight with the men throwing blows close by. So much for her one bit of sanctuary. She could smell their sweat, their fury and the fear of the brawling men.

  ‘Break it up, you fools,’ Jack ordered, before wrenching Mike’s intense grip from his wrist and pushing his arm to the ground.

  Hunter flew in carrying restraints and a gag. The men holding Mike rolled him onto his stomach and confined his arms and legs.

  ‘Stop them or I’ll have my surgery full,’ Ruth urged Jack.

  Jack leapt to his feet and raced over to Armstrong and Vassar who were exchanging blows. Vassar fuelled with fury, reigned punches at Armstrong who dodged and blocked them with nimble agility considering his size.

  It was an athletic and deadly display. Ruth gasped, her fingernails digging into her palms, waiting to hear the sickening crunch of bone, but Armstrong, his ice-blue eyes gleaming with concentration blocked blows and spun out of Vassar’s reach. He was beautiful to watch.

  ‘Calm down, you fucking maniac.’ Jack grabbed Vassar in a headlock, wrenched the beast of a man back and squeezed his throat between his forearm and bicep.

  The commandos surged around Jack, two grabbing Vassar’s arms while others checked on Armstrong.

  Ruth sucked in a huge sigh of relief. She hadn’t been looking forward to repairing bones half the night.

  Vassar’s face, crimson with fury, eyes wild fought to free himself, his muscles corded and bulging as he struggled but to no avail. He roared at his confinement, froth foaming at his lips.

  Armstrong wiped his sleeve across his face. ‘We’re on the same team, you crazy bastard.’

  Ruth left Mike’s side so she could check on Armstrong for damage now Vassar was contained but on a visual inspection he only seemed to have a split lower lip.

  Jack eased his grip on Vassar’s throat.

  Vassar wheezed trying to suck in air. He fixed his gaze on Armstrong. ‘How dare you fuckin’ stop me? I made a vow to my brother.’

  Armstrong dabbed at his lip. ‘Tough. I want your brother to live.’

  Jack stalked around the commando on Vassar’s left and stood in front of Vassar. ‘I’ll order the men to release you on the condition you control your temper. You stay clear of Mike’s cell until tomorrow. We’ll address his condition then. Do you agree to my rules?’

  Vassar flashed an uncompromising look at Armstrong before returning to Jack. ‘Yeah.’ The word came out as a grunt.

  A ripple of fear ran up Ruth’s spine. Vassar’s need to stop his brother’s suffering was primal. She got it. Had seen irrational anger strike again and again when she’d worked with relatives of dying loved ones at the hospital. Vassar’s rage verged on taking him over the edge.

  ‘Yes, what?’ Taller than Vassar, Jack got up in his face.

  For the first time Ruth saw the war in Jack, the primitive aggression in his eyes as the veins popped on his temple. Every muscle in his body was strained, bulging in his clothes, dominance seeping from every pore and all she felt was respect.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘You are not in the right frame of mind to make a decision, so back down,’ Jack growled.

  Vassar seemed to crumple before her eyes and she understood why the men followed Jack. It wasn’t just dominance, there was respect there too from all of them. She could see it in the eyes of the men who surrounded them. Jack ran the base with undisputed authority. With the rampant aggression of these testosterone filled men, it would fall apart without him.

  ‘Vassar, return to your quarters immediately.’ Jack signalled to the two commandos who held him. ‘Release Vassar.’

  Sue flew forward and wrapped her arms around Vassar. ‘Tom, are you all right? Are you hurt?’ She put her hands either side of his cheeks to examine him.

  Armstrong snorted. ‘I
’m the one who is bleeding here.’

  Automatically, Vassar’s arms closed around Sue whose cry seemed to snap him out of his wrath because his expression softened the moment she was in his arms. ‘No, I’m fine. Armstrong was playing with me.’ He glared at Armstrong, flung his arm around Sue’s shoulder, turned and stalked from the Mess without uttering another word.

  ‘That was brave fronting Vassar like that. You okay?’ Jack asked Ruth.

  ‘Hey what about me? I’m bleeding here,’ Armstrong said, signalling to his lip.

  ‘Why’d you let him get a punch in? You slowing up?’ Jack said.

  Ruth went to inspect Armstrong’s cut lip. ‘Get some ice on that. If the bleeding doesn’t stop, I’ll put a stitch in it.’

  Lea raced over with a cup of ice and a napkin. ‘Darling, are you all right?’

  ‘I’m in pain. Can you look after me, sweetheart?’ Armstrong asked.

  ‘Blah, listen to him,’ one of the commandos said.

  ‘Pussy,’ the other commando grunted.

  ‘He’s getting some, we’re not,’ the first commando said.

  ‘Lea, quit fussing over Armstrong. I need more antiviral for Mike,’ Jack said.

  ‘Come on, darling, can you drive me to the lab?’ Lea asked Armstrong. ‘Then when we’ve done that I can look after you properly.’

  ‘Sure,’ Armstrong said, putting one arm around Lea and giving the finger to the commandos.

  ‘Fights like a pussy and gets a girl like that,’ the other commando grunted to his buddy.

  ‘Let’s go talk to Helen.’ The two commandos left to join her.

  ‘Come on, Ruth, I’ll drive you to the landship so we can see to Mike,’ Jack said, holding out his hand to her.

  A sickening sensation made Ruth’s stomach roll when she looked at the sleeve of Jack’s shirt. ‘There’s blood on your sleeve.’