Not at that point, anyway.
“I’m glad you kept the bear. And I’m glad you hung this map up,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows. “Our meeting is what led me to having Charlie. I want to remember all of it.”
“Me too.”
“You sure?”
He ground his teeth. “I know it took me a while. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “I know. Forget I said that. I’m sorry. I’m just scrambled from today.”
“It’s okay.”
And it was. Today would scramble anyone, even someone as self-possessed as Renee. Hell, he was scrambled.
If only…if he had a chance to go back. He’d initially been overwhelmed about her being pregnant. She thought that meant he never really wanted her or their son in the first place. And when that mission kept him from being there when Charlie was born, she’d been absolutely convinced of it.
To her, he’d made a choice and she’d come in second. And that was the end of them. He should have swallowed his pride and told Renee how he really felt. But she’d been so pissed off and that had angered him. He’d been an asshole about it.
Oh, he’d rearranged his life to be a proper father to Charlie, even leaving the service when Charlie was two years old to live closer to his son. Charlie loved him. Charlie didn’t remember how Daz had let him down.
Renee did.
Turkey, Nine Years Ago
At the foothills of the mountains between the Turkey/Bulgaria/Greece border, after an earthquake.
Exhausted, Renee lowered herself onto an empty cot outside the Doctors Without Borders medical tent. Thor and Loki curled up on the ground at her feet, as tired as she was by the grind of the last forty-eight hours.
Just a few minutes of rest, she decided. She wiped sweat away from her forehead with the back of her hand and took a deep breath. The smells of the relief camp washed over her: mud and sweat and dust—so much dust from the buildings that had crumbled during the earthquake. She wondered if she’d ever truly wash the dirt out of her clothes. Or the smell of bodies, an overripe smell she wished she’d never experience again. Even if she did wash them out, she certainly couldn’t erase any of the images from her mind.
The school had been the worst. She’d been so hopeful of finding some kids alive and then watched, one by one, as the children Thor and Loki located all turned out to be dead, all except one.
Those little bodies, those vacant faces…and all those broken toys scattered around them…
She shook her head and drank more water. Focus on what she had done or she’d get burned out before this mission was over. And who wouldn’t get burned out after seeing thirty-one children buried under rubble, never to awaken, all because of some quirk of nature?
Maybe she wasn’t made for mass-casualty events. Maybe no one was, she reminded herself, and she was still needed. This was why she and her dogs had trained so hard.
Concentrate on the lives they had saved. They mattered.
She scratched her dogs’ ears. Good boys. Their first time with such a large relief effort, and they’d performed brilliantly. According to the doctors inside the med tent, the lone little boy that Thor and Loki had found today was going to live, though he faced a long recovery of months, maybe years. Hopefully, someone here would take a special interest in his case. Injured kids were always good press and usually found financial backers to help with medical care.
Hell, she was getting damned cynical.
She sipped water from her canteen and then poured some into her dogs’ mouths. After they swallowed, they licked her hands in gratitude and she murmured happy words as she gave them the last of the treats in her waist pouch. A few more minutes and then they all needed to hit the mess tent. She needed to eat something, even if she wasn’t hungry, and the dogs needed a full meal.
She’d give them half of what she had left in her container and save the other half for the morning. More should be coming on the relief plane tomorrow, along with her mentor in SAR, Jake, and his two dogs to spell her. She scratched behind Loki’s ears and he set his head on her knee.
“Hey, babe, you did good.” She clicked her tongue at him.
She stood just as a group of men came into view, heading for the medical tent. One was hobbling and the other two were supporting him. None wore the ID badges needed to roam freely in the camp.
“My friend needs help,” said the tallest of the men. “Is this the place?”
Americans, Renee realized. No, more than that, American military types of some sort in civilian dress, though they looked very under the weather, with dirty clothes and several days’ growth of beard. Strange. There was no American unit assigned to this relief effort.
“Who are you?” And why had the guards passed them without an escort?
Beside her, the dogs came to attention. They were too well trained to growl but they were on alert.
“The guards passed us because one of us was injured and needed help,” the tallest one said, his voice even. “We’re not here to cause trouble.”
The speaker was mixed-race with high cheekbones and dark eyes. He was a big guy, over six feet, solid muscle and she’d no doubt he could be dangerous.
The injured man groaned.
“Call off the attack dogs and let us help our friend,” said the third man, a tall, lanky blond.
“Thor and Loki are search and rescue, not attack dogs.” She pointed to their vests, clearly making them as SAR animals. Despite who these men might be, it was never good to make people unnecessarily scared of her dogs.
“That means you’re SAR too,” Tall, Dark and Built said. “So why are you playing guard?”
“Because I’m supposed to be here and you’re not.” Just three days ago, unknown looters had attacked the camp. The local guards had driven them off but Renee knew they might try again. The camp had food and medical supplies, all invaluable. Enticing.
The injured man moaned.
“Look, the guards passed us because my friend needs medical care and this is the only place around to get it. He’s still bleeding from a wound that hasn’t closed. Good enough?” the leader asked.
Whoever they were, it was clear the injured man needed medical care from the red blood staining a bandage around his calf. She couldn’t see a reason to stand in their way.
But she still worried. The guards, especially the Turks, were mostly locals pressed into service. Some followed protocol, others didn’t. That was why some of their food and medicine kept disappearing, even without looters.
“Doctors Without Borders are inside. But you may have to wait. They have a lot of patients right now.”
“Great, thanks,” the leader said.
The trio went inside into the tent. Curious and unwilling just to let them go without checking on what happened, she slipped in behind them. The lanky soldier was wearing a jacket, even though it was eighty degrees out. He could be covering something he didn’t want anyone to see.
The bright lights of the medical tent confirmed her worry. There was an outline of a gun under the lanky man’s jacket.
“Need a doctor here,” the leader called out.
The nearest doctor glared. Some foreign nationals didn’t like Americans. She’d dealt with a few dirty looks when she first arrived, until she and the dogs had proved their worth.
The lanky blond reached toward the small of his back, toward the gun. Shit. Renee set her hands on her dogs. If he pulled the weapon, she could tell Loki to knock him over. He liked doing that to people, so much so that it’d taken extra training to get it under control. And both dogs would defend her, if it came to that, even if they weren’t trained for attack.
The leader grabbed the arm of the lanky guy. “Stand down, Gabe. These are doctors,” he whispered, so low Renee that barely heard the words.
“Our friend needs
medical help,” the leader said again, his voice loud enough that Renee decided everyone in the tent could hear him. “Hey, look, I’m sorry we burst in but we’re worried about him because he’s lost a lot of blood and he can’t put any weight on his leg.”
No answer from the doctor. The leader repeated the request in Spanish, French, German and a language she didn’t know, Wait, was that Tagalog?
Add educated to Tall, Dark and Built’s resume.
The doctor finally replied in German. Renee didn’t understand the words but she understood the gesture toward an empty cot. The two soldiers helped their friend lie down and propped the injured leg up with a blanket. The leader peeled off the bandage and Renee got a good look at the wound. That wasn’t from an impact or a fall. That was a bullet wound.
She really needed to find out more about these three.
The doctor approached the cot and examined his new patient. He asked questions in German, his patient replied in English, and then the leader translated. Her German wasn’t good enough to understand the entire conversation but she caught enough to make sense of their story. They said they’d been on vacation hiking in the mountains and, after the quake hit, some of the locals became frightened and shot at them.
If that was true, they had a right to be jumpy. If their story was true. The villagers in the mountains were used to foreigners taking hiking tours and generally weren’t hostile. These soldiers could have provoked them. Or maybe it was the complete opposite. Maybe these soldiers had been on the side of the angels. She’d heard rumors of human traffickers using the mountains to hide their passage from Eastern Europe to foreign markets. American soldiers, even ones on leave, might have felt compelled to intervene. If so, why didn’t they mention that?
While Renee watched them, the lanky soldier watched everyone else. On guard, she realized. Did they expect the people who injured their friend to pursue them here? The last thing the relief effort needed was to be caught between two groups of hostiles.
Her gaze wandered to the leader. He stared back. She held the eye contact. She’d had plenty of practice staring down her dogs when they tried to disobey. This man, no matter how good-looking under his weariness and no matter how much a soldier, was just another species of alpha male.
However, his features were fascinating, an ethnic mix that she couldn’t completely place. If that had been Tagalog he was speaking earlier, it was possible he might be part Filipino.
“Did you want something from us, Wonder Woman?” he asked.
That last comment was because of the Wonder Woman logo on her T-shirt. She always wore her superhero T-shirts when in a relief mission. It brought good karma and, besides, people seemed to smile when they thought of Wonder Woman.
“A scared local shot at you? That’s exactly what happened?” she asked.
“Yep.” He walked over to her while the doctor examined his friend’s leg.
Thor and Loki cocked their heads to size up the man.
“SAR dogs, you said?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He knelt in front of the dogs and offered a closed hand for them to sniff. “Hey, guys,” he said to them. “What are their names?”
“Thor and Loki.” He certainly knew how to behave around dogs.
“Which is which? How do you tell?” he asked.
“Loki’s smaller. And braver. He’s the one licking your hand right now.”
“Hey, Loki, I’m Daz.”
Loki licked his hand. Daz smiled, petted the dog briefly, and straightened. She relaxed, a little. Loki liking him was practically a seal of approval.
“You seem warier of me than they are,” he said.
“That’s because they don’t know you’re carrying a gun.” He wasn’t wearing a jacket but when he’d knelt down, she saw the outline of the little gun he kept in an ankle holster.
He shrugged, a movement that made muscles ripple under his sweaty T-shirt. She wondered what kind of work he did to be in that kind of shape.
“There’s a lot of dangerous things in the mountains,” he said. “We were just being prepared.”
“I’m betting you didn’t go into the mountains just for a hike, not if you went armed.”
“We did actually do some hiking.”
Again, a shrug and she saw his muscles shift again. He definitely had a six-pack under there. Shallow, she told herself. But it wasn’t as if she could miss it. He was standing right there. And she liked him better for not denying the truth.
“We’re not here to cause any trouble,” he said.
“Then why keep the guns?”
“Where could we hide them to keep them safe except on us?”
“Are you expecting more trouble?”
“We would never have come to a relief camp if we thought it would bring trouble.” He pointed to her canteen. “We ran out of water yesterday. Any chance we could get some from where you fill that up?”
He was changing the subject. Renee let him because what else could she do about the guns? Tackle him and take his away? That would never work. She could defend herself but she was under no illusions about fighting this guy. And calling the guards to take it away might result in exactly the kind of confrontation she didn’t want.
These guys were here and they were being chill for now. This one seemed okay. Maybe the best she could do would be to stick with them and report their presence and her impressions to those in charge of camp security.
“We have some water but our supplies are for those injured and displaced and the relief workers,” she said. “I’ll show you.”
Perhaps the faster the soldiers got what they wanted, the faster they’d leave and take whatever trouble they’d bought with them. Maybe she was wrong and the guards had been right to pass them through. That was a lot of maybes, she decided.
“The mess tent is two tent rows up, and one row over. But it’s nothing fancy. You’ll have to stand in line just for a box lunch and a water bottle. We’re running low until a planeload of supplies arrives tomorrow,” she said.
“No problem. Water’s the biggest concern.” He took a step closer. “Could you take me to the tent? I’m guessing you’re not the only person who might be suspicious and I’d rather not be stopped again.”
“You want me to run interference for you?”
“You seem to have taken on the task of watching me already, Wonder Woman.” He grinned. “Not that I’m complaining.”
It was a good smile. She bet he charmed a lot of people with it.
He offered his hand. “The name’s Daz Montoya.”
“Renee Black.” She shook his hand, which dwarfed hers. His fingers, she noted, were as grimy as hers were. “What’s your rank, soldier?”
“Not soldier. Sailor. I’m Navy.”
“I stand corrected,” she said.
“No worries, I just didn’t want you to think I was one of those Army grunts.”
“Okay. Follow me.”
She whistled for the dogs to fall into step with her. Though not part of that order, Daz fell into step with her too. Around them, the camp was far quieter than the previous three nights. Probably by now everyone was too exhausted—like her—to complain or do anything but sleep. Their boots tromped over the muddy ground. She tried not to breathe too deeply. Heavy dust from buildings destroyed by the quake still lingered in the air, mixing with the more human smells of sweat and grime.
But the stink wasn’t too bad for a relief camp in the middle of summer. The latrines had been dug well.
“We don’t want any trouble here,” Daz said.
“That makes two of us,” she said. “But if that’s the case, why did one of your buddies almost pull his gun in the med tent?”
“He’s just a little jumpy, with good reason. We haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours and being shot at didn’t do our moods any good,
especially after being caught outside during the quake.”
“You don’t seem the jumpy sort of person.”
Daz shrugged. “He’s new, I’m not. But if you know I’m armed and think I’m dangerous, why are you staying with me?”
“My dogs liked you. They like someone, I pay attention.”
She sidestepped a mud puddle, almost tripping over one of the tent wires. Thor simply jumped over the obstacle while Loki wandered in, splashing around. Silly dog.
Daz’s long strides enabled him to skirt the puddle easily but not Loki’s splashes. He barely noticed. Maybe he was too dirty to notice.
“I like dogs too,” he said.
“You’re not a cat person?”
“Not even close.”
She led him inside the mess tent. As she expected, it was a madhouse this time of day, with everyone pushing and shoving to get dinner. The crowd was mostly relief workers but there were some locals, who had nowhere else to go for food, mixed in.
Several people called out her name in greeting and a few, like Daz, called her Wonder Woman. The shirts did make her immediately recognizable. Another advantage in a large camp like this. A man asked about the rescued boy. She recognized him as the one who’d risked climbing into the hole to get the boy out before the house collapsed.
“The doctors say he’s stable and getting better. They give him an excellent chance for recovery,” she told the rescuer.
At that, a cheer went up. Daz joined in.
“Hey, it was the dogs, not me,” she said when they were finished.
“They’re your dogs, aren’t they?” Daz said.
The rescuer and others agreed and, this time, they clapped in appreciation. Her face grew red. Loki barked and everyone laughed.
The rescuer called Loki over, offering scraps. Thor and Loki looked at her, asking if they were allowed. As a rule, she didn’t want them eating table scraps. But they deserved a treat and she trusted these people. She waved and they were off, to be petted, hugged and otherwise fussed over.
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