The Colonel's Man

by Mina Carter, J. William Mitchell

  She was so beautiful.

  His heart ached from all the love he had for her and now that she loved him too, his heart ached with the pain of a different kind. He held her face in his hands, looked into her eyes and kissed her. One last time.

  “That will slow you down.” He looked down to her thigh and smiled. “I’d think you’d be stubborn to try but then again you were always a stubborn cow.”

  “You wouldn’t have it any other way.” She clung for a moment, then stepped away. Ever the warrior, ever the one in charge. “Come on, let’s get this out of the way and tonight we’ll be dining in the hall of the spirits.”

  It was the first time she’d made an overt reference to her religion, something Jason barely had time to think on as they moved through the building to Drew’s location.

  His position was good. The other soldier had a good overwatch position over the northern side and if needed, he could cover the stairwell leading down to the street. Jason wasn’t about to let Arita do what he knew she was going to do. He didn’t care what happened to him anymore as long as she was safe. And if this was the way to make sure she and Drew got out of this then he had nothing more to ask for. He had been blessed with the chance to have loved her and to be loved by her in return. His own resignation felt calm, not at all like the chilling panic he had thought.

  As Arita went to Drew to see what the situation was, Jason flicked the fire selector switch on his rifle to full auto, took his one last look of her then headed down the stairs. Her bellow behind him didn’t stop him as he reached the ground floor and took a deep breath. Now or never.

  Time slowed to a crawl as he stepped out of cover. Instantly the air around him was live with fire, bullets and energy bolts zipping past him in a dizzying array as he calmly selected his targets and fired. They went down, one after the other, not one of them managing to land one on him. It wouldn’t last, he knew that, but he didn’t care. If he could clear enough, then it gave Drew and Arita a chance.

  The wind shifted and turned in his favor. As it blasted from behind him, it now struck the defenders in the face. A stroke of luck. Firing off the last round in his rifle, he quickly switched to his sidearm and blasted away. Lobbing a grenade over the wall, a spectacular explosion prefaced his next attack as he came out of cover.

  His enemies were firing wildly now, unable to see anything. Tracers arched overhead as the machine gun let loose. He didn’t have a clean shot; the bastards had picked a good position behind a solid roadway embankment. He had no more grenades but he still had his demo charge. If he could take them all out in one go, Drew and Arita could break out and head to the secondary landing zone.

  He waited for them to reload and when the break came, Jason set the timers, broke out of cover and tossed the bag.

  Score. The bag hit dead center and blew within a second. The explosion lit the sky with flame, its accompanying roar like that of some mythical dragon. The sound broke the bubble surrounding him, near deafening him as he ducked and headed for cover. He paused, mid-step, as a hostile rolled out of cover and raised his weapon. He was out of ammo, out of time, and out of luck. Everything slammed back into place between one heartbeat and the next. Time sped up and he sprinted for cover.

  He didn’t make it.

  It felt familiar, the shock of the powerful blows, the numbness then the searing heat. The pain would come later. Everything seemed to slow, even the way the ground came up to meet him. A rifle was just beyond his reach. He crawled but every movement felt like he was running a marathon. He felt tired and the tiredness came in waves with the beat of his slowing heart.

  His hand curled around the grip. With the last of his energy he turned and pulled the trigger as his enemy came into his sights. Both weapons fired at the same time. Then it was over.

  *

  “What the fuck? Jason!”

  The scream was ripped from Arita as she turned, and caught sight of Jason running from cover below them. Adrenaline and fear galvanized her as she turned towards the door and the stairs beyond to go after him but Drew was too quick for her. A solid, male arm wrapped around her waist, hauling her off the floor as she kicked and screamed at him.

  “Let me go, damn you!”

  “Cut it out dammit!” Drew barked. “You go after him and you’re both toast. Get on your weapon and help me cover him!” He released her abruptly as he ran back to his rifle and opened fire into the street, keeping Jason covered as best as he could.

  Shame hit her at the same time heat licked her cheeks. She called herself a soldier, yet forgot all her training at the first hint that the man she loved was in danger? Spirits, she needed to get her head in the right place.

  She had two mags left herself. Drew was right: Jason needed cover more. She found herself a good perch and tracked Jason through her scope. He moved with deliberate purpose, a man on a mission as he dodged weapons fire on his charge down the road. He moved fast and yet without diminishing his lethal precision. Every shot hit where it counted, no movements wasted.

  He seemed oblivious to the enemies coming up from behind and his sides and she felt herself wince every time a bullet whizzed too close for comfort. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He trusted them, trusted her to have his back. She wouldn’t let anything happen to him. Not after everything. She loved him. He loved her. It couldn’t end this way. She wouldn’t let it.

  Ruthlessly, she gunned down any target she could see, preserving her ammunition by using single shots. On the occasion she couldn’t get a head shot, she went for limbs instead. They couldn’t fire at Jason if they have no hands, or were bleeding out from a ruptured femoral artery.

  “I’m out,” Drew announced, dropping behind cover just as the comms crackled. With only a small pause in her firing, Arita pulled her sidearm free and slid it across the floor to him.

  An explosion seemed to mark the turning tide as the enemy’s spirit waned under their withering fire. Suddenly a loud continuous report resonated throughout the block. She saw Jason pinned behind some rubble by an automatic rifle from up the road, bullets peppering his cover violently. It was second nature, something that didn’t require a conscious thought, when Arita lined up the crosshairs of her scope on the gunner’s head and adjusted for range. She knew she got it right and all she had to do was pull the trigger and watch his head collapse into a messy reddish pink pulp. She took a breath, released it and drew her finger back.

  Nothing.

  “Crap, I’m out.” She pulled the trigger again but nothing. Pain wrapped around her heart. She couldn’t do anything as she watched the gunner rise and aim at Jason. The scream died in her throat as she watched the man she loved run for cover. He didn’t make it, his body jerking as he was hit. He rolled to the ground, grabbing a rifle dropped by one of their earlier kills. The hostile’s skull exploded in a spray of blood, brains and bone fragments.

  “This is Shuttle Cavalry to ground team. Coming up hot on your location, be ready to move out.” Ko’than’s voice came over the comms, sharp and clear, but Arita was already moving.

  “This is ground team, we have that. Medics on standby, we have wounded.”

  How the hell she was being so calm, she didn’t know, but she was, taking the stairs two at a time and sprinting across to Jason’s fallen form, Drew hot on her heels. Above them, the shuttle screamed across the rooftops, turning broadside so the gunners could give them covering fire.

  She reached Jason within seconds, sliding in the dirt as she dropped to her knees. Blood, there was so much blood.

  “Scott, you stay with me you lazy son of a bitch!”

  No time to dress wounds, not with the shuttle overhead and the enemy already milling about and returning fire. Heart in her throat she grabbed Jason’s arm and pulled, dragging him to a sitting position as Drew reached her side.

  Jason managed a weak smile. “I did all that on my own…” The words came out tired and hoarse. “And you still call me lazy?”

  She exchanged glances with Dr
ew as the sharp retort of the shuttle guns rang out. They needed to get out of here and fast.

  “Yeah, you’re a lazy bum for laying in the dirt when we got a shuttle to catch,” Drew interjected, taking most of the wounded man’s weight as they ran for the shuttle. “Don’t you know that’s my job?”

  Jason tried to grin but failed and ended up grimacing instead. “Sorry buddy…next time we can switch.” He started to chuckle but like the smile it too became something more ominous, degrading into a cough that had blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

  “Multiple gunshot,” Arita informed the medics as they reached the shuttle, strong hands reaching for the wounded man and them to haul them aboard. “Internal injuries, external bleeding. He’s human, no allergies. Universal donor.”

  As she rattled off the basics for the medics already starting to work on Jason, Drew hunkered down, bracing his big body against the side door as the shuttle lifted away sharply. Unable to get near Jason because of the medical staff, Arita settled in the seat opposite and did something she’d never done before.

  She prayed.

  Chapter Eleven

  He felt like he was in a void. He remembered what it had been like during Zero Gravity combat training and how his body felt in the vastness of space; cold, weightless, alone. It almost felt like that but not quite. He couldn’t quite feel much, just how confusing it all was with the blurred flashes of light and the garbled sounds he couldn’t quite make out. It was a hazy mess.

  So this is what it felt like on the other side.

  Strange. He was supposed to feel at ease, unburdened and yet despite feeling weightless something still seemed to tie him down. Something heavy. Was he really dead?

  He still had his thoughts. His life, his memories, Drew and his friends…all flashed before him as he tried to remember the life he had lived. However one memory was more powerful than the others. Her sweet, beautiful face. The vulnerabilities she kept from the rest of the world but shared with him. Her voice. Her laugh. Her familiar pleasant scent.

  “Arita.”

  “Not the last time I checked, no.” A male voice answered, close by and familiar. Blinking, Jason opened his eyes. Reality slammed back between one breath and the next, robbing him of breath and giving him pain in return. Images swam before his eyes… The mission. They’d been pinned down, about to make a last stand. Arita’s face as she finally wanted to talk about them.

  He’d known then that they were screwed.

  The bright lights of the room blinded him and he tried to raise his arm to shield his eyes but it felt heavy, not at all like the weightless feeling he had earlier. His whole body felt sore and breathing seemed to take quite the effort, every gasp hurting like a sonofabitch. Despite his disorientation he could never forget the unappealing, sterile environment of the medbay.

  “Where…” His voice was hoarse and it felt scratchy in his throat. “Where is she?”

  Drew stood up from where he’d been lounging in the chair by the bed so Jason could see him without craning his neck. He was obviously fresh from the shower, his hair still wet and a clean version of his ever-present black t-shirts on.

  “I sent her off for a shower and to get something to eat,” he said as he perched on the edge of the bed and looked at Jason keenly. “You look like shit, mate.”

  “You really…have to cut it out with the pillow talk buddy. You’re sending…all the wrong signals.” Jason started to chuckle but he winced halfway as pain started to flare in his ribs.

  “Fuck…” He groaned as beads of perspiration popped on his forehead.

  Drew’s large hand landed on his shoulder, holding him still as he reached out and moved a small remote to place it in Jason’s hand.

  “Pain relief. Believe me, the work they had to do on you, I’d take it.” He paused for a minute, gaze lingering on the bracelet around Jason’s wrist. “Then you can tell me when the wedding’s gonna be.”

  Jason held the remote but Drew’s offhand comment rendered him motionless. He looked up at him, eyebrows knitted and mouth open in the picture of confusion.

  “Wedding?” He managed. “What are you talking about?”

  “That’s a Fenarian betrothal bracelet.” Drew nodded toward his wrist. “Boss gave you her version of a sparkler. You’re engaged mate.”

  His hand went reflexively to the metal band around his wrist before his eyes could follow. Betrothal… Arita. It didn’t seem to occur to him that his version of a happily stupid grin had formed on his face in view of Drew. He didn’t care about that. He didn’t care about the pain or the idea that he had been operated on extensively.

  Arita was going to be his wife.

  “Are you…are you sure?” Stupid question, check. Stupid grin, check. Love sappy idiot, check. All he needed now was the girl and he’d be complete.

  “Oh God, you’ve got it bad.” Drew groaned, but a smile was already curling his lips. “Yes, I’m sure. Unlike some, who don’t seem to know jack about their own damn girlfriend, I checked up on both the Fenarians and the Tralaxians. Figured if we were working for one, we should know if she was likely to freak out at anything. Turns out she takes after her Fenarian side, hence the bracelet. Lucky she doesn’t go the other way, or you’d be cozying up to a couple of brother-husbands.”

  “Brother-husbands? Fuck no…” Jealousy and possessiveness surged through him as he scowled. “I’m not sharing her with anyone. She’s all mine.”

  He managed to lift his arm to admire the bracelet again. Drew was right. It wouldn’t do for him not to know as much as he could about Arita. As soon as he could get out of bed he was gonna start research. But first…

  “Hey buddy…could you get her for me?” He smiled again. “There’s so much I want to tell her.”

  “No need, I’m back.” The familiar female voice answered before Drew could, as she walked in through the open door. Her hair was still wet, and she had a coffee in her hand. There were lines of exhaustion written on her face but she smiled as she put a hand on Drew’s shoulder. “Thanks for keeping him company. You mind giving us a minute?”

  “Sure. But I get to be best man, okay?”

  The door slid shut and the two of them were alone at last. Jason’s gaze hadn’t left Arita the entire time. A slow smile crept across his face.

  “Marriage?” He spoke softly, fearing his voice might crack if he spoke any louder.

  She reached over and put the coffee on the bedside cabinet, then perched on the bed in the spot Drew had vacated. She was shy, he realized with a small jolt of surprise. Not meeting his gaze, she laced her fingers with his.

  “It felt right.” She bit her lower lip, mangling the soft flesh as she looked up to meet his gaze. “I didn’t know how you felt about it. But I wanted you to have it, in case…”

  He understood.

  “It still feels right sweetheart. When you gave it to me I didn’t know, not really, but I had a feeling how important it was to you. Even if it hadn’t been a marriage proposal, I would have treasured it forever.” He reached up, a great effort in his case, but he managed to brush her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I would treasure you forever my love.”

  “I’m not good with the romantic stuff, but I love you.” She smiled, tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes as she caught his hand and held it against her cheek. “So…you’re okay with it?”

  “Arita…if you didn’t beat me to it I would have asked you first. I didn’t… I didn’t know what your traditions were like. I wasn’t sure how I’d do it.”He brushed away her tears with his thumb. “I love you. I couldn’t imagine sharing my life and my love with anyone else. Ever since I first met you, I knew you were the one. Maybe not consciously, but my heart is sometimes wiser than my head.”

  She chuckled as he slid his hand into the nape of her neck, letting him pull her down.

  “Doesn’t surprise me. You have a thick skull, we all know that,” she whispered against his lips and then kissed him.

&n
bsp; He wanted to hold her against him. He wanted to do more than kiss her, show her how much he loved her. He hated feeling so weak that he couldn’t even hold his…fiancée.

  Just like that all the petty regrets evaporated. His hand slid up her thigh as he poured as much of his love for her as possible into that kiss. The tears that threatened to fall the entire time finally could no longer be held back.

  A soft murmur welled up in the back of her throat, she kissed along his jaw, then the trail of tears. No words were needed, the moment encapsulating them and holding them secure in its cocoon. Finally she pulled back to look down at him, the dark fall of her hair shielding them from view of the door.

  “You’d better hurry up and get better. I think Drew is impatient to catch the bridal bouquet.”

  * * *

  Jason couldn’t keep the smile off his face nor hide his sappy demeanor. Everyone wanted a word, camera strobes blinded him every five seconds from one photographer or another and he hadn’t eaten all day. It would have been enough to eat through his normally short tolerance for the proper kind of social scenarios but he was hanging in there. Maybe it had something to do with the beautiful, blushing woman, resplendent in white, holding onto his arm and wearing a similar smile on her face.

  Arita. His wife. She looked up at him, smiles and silent messages of love exchanged between them.

  “Hey, you okay?” she asked, head tilted to one side, the overhead light glinting off the crystals in the delicate tiara nestled in her dark hair. She didn’t have a drop of human blood in her, but she’d gone the whole ‘white wedding’ route for his sake, saying that his acceptance of her bracelet meant that they were already married in the eyes of her people. If possible his love for her deepened at that moment, as she willingly accepted every silly notion and custom his mother had insisted on.

  The world around them ceased to exist as he took her hand and pulled her into his arms, the guests backing off to let the happy couple have a moment to themselves. Fingers laced through hers, he rubbed his thumb against the gold band on her ring finger.