BlackSmoke

by Robin Leigh Miller

  Kong stood outside the hospital for fifteen minutes before working up the nerve to go in. He didn’t want to walk in and find out she was dead. Just the thought made his stomach knot. But Boomer and Ricochet were inside waiting for him. Turning toward the door, he walked in as if nothing in the world bothered him.

  He found the two men sitting in chairs. Boomer had his head in his hands. Ricochet had a blank look on his face. The knot in his stomach tightened. His legs felt like lead as he walked toward them.

  “Hey, what’s up?” he asked.

  Boomer lifted his head. “They have her in surgery,” he said quietly.

  “That’s good. Right?”

  “Yeah. Great,” Ricochet responded.

  “What about the other three? Heard anything about them?”

  “Yeah, our main target is fine. They didn’t have him long enough to starve him. The other guy, well, it’s going to take a few days to find out how extensive his damage is.” Boomer’s voice was flat, expressionless.

  “What about the woman?” Kong asked.

  Ricochet turned his head slowly, looked up at his oldest friend, then stood. “She has gangrene all over her body. She’s so dehydrated and malnourished that her body was feeding on itself to stay alive. Her hair is falling out, her fingernails are gone and she was so brutally raped that if she does survive, she’ll never have sex again because her insides are hamburger.”

  Hatred, fury, the need to kill again was so strong in Kong that he looked away and cursed. Humanity never ceased to amaze him. Why God didn’t just wipe the face of the earth clean and start all over again was beyond him. Where were these so-called guides when this woman needed them? Why didn’t they stop it? Why let this woman be brutalized? What was the point in having a guide if it didn’t protect you from animals? More reason for him to distance himself from the situation.

  “Did you get a hold of Cannon?” Boomer asked, snapping Kong from his warring mind.

  “Yeah, I got him. He wants a detailed report of what went down. Right down to the color of our boxer shorts.” Deciding it was time for them to know some of the truth, he pulled them away from where they were standing. “Listen,” he whispered. “Sam is Cannon’s niece. So he’s not at all happy right now. He’s gonna want someone’s head for this. So I’m giving him mine.”

  “What?” Ricochet growled. “His niece? The man sends his own blood out to risk her life?”

  “Yeah, that’s kinda what I think too,” Kong breathed.

  “Don’t pass judgment.” Boomer interjected. “We don’t know the whole story. It’s not our place to judge what we don’t understand.”

  Ricochet groaned. “Leave it to Boomer to be the voice of reason through all this. Look man, if Cannon wants heads, he’ll take all our heads. Not just yours. We were all there. Sam just went loco. That’s all I can figure.”

  “Ric’s right. We all hang together,” Boomer said quietly.

  Kong stood looking at them. He should have known they wouldn’t let him take the heat alone. They weren’t that kind of people. They were good people, people that could be trusted and counted on.

  “Thanks.”

  A commotion started outside the hospital. The three men ran for the doors to see what was happening. When they got there, jeeps were pulling up with wounded men. They held the doors open while they were carried and wheeled inside.

  “What’s going on?” Boomer asked one of the jeep drivers.

  “I don’t know what happened, but the Taliban just started driving through the streets shooting everyone they could see. My buddy said they were yelling ‘death to all’. Like I said, I don’t know what happened, but whatever it was sure pissed them off.” The man jumped back in his jeep and drove off.

  “Damn. You suppose that because of us?” Ricochet asked.

  “Un-huh. Sounds like we opened up a can of worms.” Kong replied.

  As they helped carry the injured inside, they noticed trucks pulling out loaded with soldiers. Up above, planes and helicopters flew. Tanks rolled by the outside gate of the compound.

  “It’s about time,” one soldier yelled to his buddy. “Now we get to fight back. All this time we’ve been sitting with out thumbs up our asses, taking it. Now we get to do something about it.”

  Battle cries filled the air. Not one soldier looked as if he was regretting what was about to happen. A twinge of guilt hit Kong. He knew some innocents would die today. Innocents that meant nothing to the Taliban.

  As the rush of casualties slowed, the three men ventured back inside the hospital to wait for the doctor performing Sam’s surgery. They watched as gurneys were shoved in the hall, sheets pulled up over bodies. Screams spilled from doorways. Bloodied towels and sheets were tossed to the floor. Chaos reigned here—an organized chaos. The dead were moved aside, then dealt with by another team. The injured were moved from room to room, depending on their injuries.

  “I hate this,” Boomer mumbled.

  “You’re not the only one buddy.” Ricochet’s stomach wasn’t dealing well with all the blood. He wasn’t squeamish, but he hadn’t eaten in what seemed like sixteen hours. He was just about to mention that they remove themselves when the doctor walked out of the chaos. “Are you Captain Lowe?” he asked looking right at Kong.

  “Yes Sir.”

  “The surgery went well. I was able to repair the damage to her leg. All the shrapnel was removed and the wounds cleaned. We’ll be moving her to Recovery. I assume you three will want to see her?”

  “Yes Sir,” they all said in unison.

  “Okay, give her three hours. Then the nurses will let you in.” He turned to leave when Kong stopped him.

  “Sir, did Walter Cannon contact you?”

  “Not me personally, but he’s being kept up to date.” The man didn’t have time for bureaucracy. He was a doctor. He didn’t give a damn if he wasn’t supposed to let them see her. He didn’t know what they’d done, but they were a team. That was clear. And team members needed to see each other.

  Relief slammed Kong right between the eyes. She was going to all right. The other two men shook hands and smiled at each other. Kong started to shake, his vision blurred and his stomach churned. Just when did she become so important to him? He’d only known her a few days. Just a few days and he was acting like his life depended on her.

  Rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, he took a few moments to think. This wasn’t healthy. No way was this even remotely right. Not once in his life had he fallen so hard for a woman that she shook his strength. He’d been with a lot of women over the years, some small, some not so small. Some were highly intelligent, some not so intelligent. Some just wanted to have sex with him, others wanted a life. Every time, he walked away not feeling one bit bad about leaving.

  Did that mean something was wrong with him? Hell no. He couldn’t help it if he never felt anything more than lust for them. At least he was honest about it. How many guys did he know that led women on, told them everything they wanted to hear, then walked away laughing. He always prided himself on being honest.

  So what was happening now? Why was he feeling like he’d just been pulled from the edge of hell? In his mind, in his world, it wasn’t possible to harbor feelings for someone you only knew for a few days. Hell, it wasn’t possible for him to harbor feelings for anyone.

  “Hey man, you all right?” Ricochet asked.

  Kong cleared his throat. He needed to put some distance between him and her, this place. He needed to think. “Yeah, I’m gonna go find something to eat.”

  “We’ll come with ya.” Boomer knew Kong was struggling with something. It was so clear on his face it was almost painful. But this was a struggle he’d have to face on his own. No one could bail him out.

  The three men strolled the base until they found the mess tent. When they walked in lunch was just being cleaned up. Fortunately, the serving crew took pity on the way they looked and piled their trays full. After eating MREs for the last two days the chow
tasted like it came from a four star restaurant. Ricochet and Boomer dug in. Kong pushed his around his tray.

  When the two men were finished, Boomer looked at Kong and said. “We’re gonna take a look around the place. We’ll meet you back at the hospital.” Then Boomer grabbed Ricochet’s arm and led him from the table.

  Kong continued to sit and shove his food around. His mind was pushing his feelings around inside his head. He didn’t notice the female soldier watching him until she walked up to the table and spoke.

  “Are you finished?” she asked in a sultry voice.

  Kong looked up at her. She was pretty, even in her khaki fatigues. She was tall, with long legs. Her blond hair was partially hidden under her cap. He lowered his eyes to hers. They were a light blue, like the sky. Her lips were full and round and her skin was flawless. As he let his eyes skim over the rest of her, he prayed that he’d feel something. Some kind of desire. She was slender with an hourglass figure, the kind men drooled over.

  Not him though. Nope. Absolutely nothing. Not even a twinge of lust. He found himself starting to compare her to Sam. Sam was short, had rich black hair. Her figure was muscled, strong. Not delicate. Sam’s eyes were unique as though they could see right through you.

  When she got no response from him, just a thorough examination, she spoke again. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

  Finally finding his voice Kong replied, “No you haven’t.”

  “My name’s Rebecca, Rebecca Holston,” she said reaching out her hand.

  Kong met hers and wrapped his fingers gently around her hand. No spark, no zing up his arm and into his chest. “Mark Lowe,” he told her with just a touch of disgust in his voice.

  When they dropped hands, he shoved his in the front pocket of his pants. Almost feeling guilty because he wasn’t attracted to her. Oh boy, he thought to himself. If Boomer and Ricochet were here, they’d never let him live down the fact that he wasn’t hot for a tall blonde built like Marilyn Monroe.

  “I’m getting off duty for the day in a few minutes, would you like to take a walk or something?” The “or something” was said in a very seductive tone.

  Any other time, Kong would have reveled in the attention. Today it just annoyed him. “That’s nice of you, but, ah, I’m meeting my two partners over at the hospital in a few,” he said picking up his tray.

  Concern flashed across her face. “Oh, I hope everything is okay?”

  Kong walked to the trash can and emptied his tray. “Yeah, one of our teammates was shot.” His heart did a funny little skip when the words left his lips.

  “Is he going to be all right?” she asked putting her hand on his arm.

  Kong looked down at the long, slender, very feminine fingers on his sleeve. Maybe if he just took her up on her offer, he’d shake himself out of whatever the hell was wrong with him.

  Maybe that was the key. He hadn’t been with a woman in months and he’d just spent the last two days with one he couldn’t touch.

  A small smile eased across his lips. “He’ll be fine. We just wanted to see him when he wakes up in recovery.”

  “Oh, that’s good.” Rebecca could feel the tight muscles under her hand. She’d always liked being with a man who was well-built. “We could meet up later,” she said looking up through her long eyelashes. “I could show you around the camp. There’s a lot of quiet places tucked around here.”

  Kong made a decision, right or wrong, it was made. “Maybe I’ll do that.” As soon as the words were out, his throat dried up and his stomach seemed to pinch.

  “Good. Meet me back here by three o’clock,” she said squeezing his arm.

  Kong watched as she sashayed off, her lush bottom swaying to a beat that only she could hear. When she turned around and winked at him, her eyes made promises he once would have begged for from a woman like her. Now he was feeling like the biggest dog in the world.

  After slamming his tray down on top of a stainless steel cart, he left in a hurry. Once outside, he slowed his pace. He spent the next forty five minutes wandering around the base. It was always a bustle of activity, he thought. Like ants building and rebuilding their tunnels.

  Off in the distance he heard shelling, if he looked hard enough past the blaring sun, he could see smoke coming from miles up the road. He wished he could tell them exactly were to find the Taliban. At least the ones in the small village where the hostages had been held. But that wasn’t up to him. That was up to higher powers.

  Looking at his watch, he realized he’d killed enough time and decided to head back to the hospital. Ricochet and Boomer were probably already there waiting for him. He dreaded seeing Sam in that hospital bed. Seeing how fragile she’d be. Then he thought of his rendezvous with Rebecca. As soon as her face entered his mind his heart skipped again, this time taking his breath away. Pain centered itself in his stomach.

  By the time he reached the hospital he’d managed to catch his breath and the pain had subsided. Just as he knew they would be, Boomer and Ricochet were sitting outside in the hall waiting for him.

  “Where ya been man?” Ricochet asked in his high-pitched voice.

  “Walking around, checking the place out. Guess what. I met a cute blonde shaped like Marilyn Monroe. We’re meeting up in twenty minutes.” He tried to show excitement in his voice but he wasn’t quite sure he was pulling it off. From the looks on their faces, he must have been.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The two men stood silently for a few seconds, neither wanting to voice their opinion about this situation. Boomer noticed his hands were balled into fists and carefully relaxed them.

  “Well, I guess we better get you inside. We wouldn’t want to hold you up?” Boomer pushed past Kong and walked up to a nurse standing at a desk.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Kong asked.

  Ricochet looked at Kong. He knew what was wrong but he wasn’t going to step into the middle of it. “Long day I guess,” he said looking down at his feet.

  When Boomer came back, he looked at Ricochet and said, “It’s right through here. She said we could only stay a few minutes every half hour.”

  The three men walked to a curtain that served as a door to a small cubicle. Boomer hesitated briefly, then pulled the curtain to the side. To his relief, her eyes were open.

  “Hey Sam, how ya feelin?” Ricochet asked in a soft, gentle tone.

  At the sound of Ricochet’s voice, Sam’s eyes darted toward the foot of her bed. The sight of the three men went a long way to speed her recovery. Her eyes immediately focused on Kong.

  “Hey guys. How’s it going?” Her throat was raw and sore.

  “Not bad,” Boomer replied.

  His smile was big and warm, his eyes showing his relief. Ricochet was smiling as well. Sam couldn’t help but smile at him. She loved the way his bright white teeth gleamed against his dark skin. But when she looked at Kong, he averted his eyes, his face indifferent.

  “They won’t tell me about the hostages. Are they all right? What about the woman?”

  “Well, the two men are going to be fine. Our main target was pretty healthy, so they’ll look him over and release him. The other guy, they’d had him a while, so he needs more medical care, but they say he should recover.” Boomer stopped, not wanting to tell her about the woman.

  “What about her? Is she going to make a full recovery?”

  Kong spoke first. “We don’t know yet.” His answer was short and terse. It was harder than he thought it would be, seeing her so pale and weak. He wanted to go to her, hold her, tell her she’d never have to do this sort of work again.

  “Glad to see you’re feeling better. Take it easy, get some rest. I’ll come back later and see ya,” Kong said, then turned and left the room. When he got on the other side of the curtain, he stopped and rubbed his eyes. His overwhelming protective feeling was all the more reason for him to go find Rebecca. He needed to prove to himself that he didn’t actually care for her. These crazy feelings were only
because she was woman in a deadly situation. What man wouldn’t feel for a woman looking so pale and vulnerable? Once he had a warm sensual body next to his he’d forget all about Sam and these ridiculous emotions would fade away like the desert sunset.

  “What’s with him?” Sam asked more than a little confused. The last time they spoke, he was kind. There was heat building between them, she was sure of if.

  “Nothing Sam. He’s meeting someone in a few minutes, guess he’s in a hurry.” Boomer told her.

  Ricochet gave him a scalding stare.

  “I see. Does he always find a woman at every base you guys visit?” Sam tried to sound flip about it, but her emotions were heavy in her voice and in her eyes.

  Kong almost reached through the curtain when he heard Boomer tell her he was meeting someone. They were his friends for crying out loud! They were supposed to cover for him. Then when he heard the hurt in Sam’s voice his anger dissolved into self-disgust. Walking away he tried to convince himself that he hadn’t done anything to make her think he was seriously interested in her. He thought back over the words he’d said. He’d told her she wasn’t like the other two. So what? That could mean anything. She was more skilled, she was, hell anything would make her different from the other two. So he told her he saw past the scars on her back. He was just trying to make her feel better.

  Kong marched across the base, pounding his feet into the sand. The more excuses he made for himself, the harder his feet hit the ground. It wasn’t his fault she’d taken everything the wrong way. None of this was his fault.

  When he reached the mess tent he saw Rebecca standing inside, out of the sun. He stopped, looked at her and heard Sam’s voice echo inside his head. “I never date military men.” He closed his eyes. He couldn’t recall the exact words, but it all boiled down to them leaving her bed and jumping into someone else’s.

  Bile rolled up in his throat. He had told her not all of them were like that. He was actually offended by her words. And now here he was, doing what he said he didn’t do. Sure, he hadn’t slept with her, but even after all the excuses he made for himself, he knew he wanted to.