A Prince Among Men (Red, Hot & Blue)

by Cat Johnson

  Feeling silly with her shirt pulled up to her neck and her sweats down around her ankles, Vicki righted her own clothes. “Hawk feels a big what coming on?”

  “That sounded kind of dirty, didn’t it?” Ryan flashed her a schoolboy grin as he pulled on his bulletproof vest. “Sorry. I meant a big enemy attack. Hawk is tuned into the bad guys so well that he gets a gut feeling before they attack. It’s kind of eerie actually. He says he feels it coming like a storm rolling in.”

  “So what do you do?”

  “We listen to him and stay ready. It could be tonight, in which case it’ll be my job to hop on the comm and radio for air support. Or it could be totally quiet tonight and I won’t have a thing to do. No one knows for sure, but we don’t ignore one of Hawk’s feelings.”

  A moment ago, Vicki would have been sad that Ryan was totally dressed now, but in light of Hawk’s prediction, she was wondering if she should pull on her own body armor and sleep in it for the rest of the night. “But what can you do to prepare for it?”

  “Watch. Wait. And don’t put off anything you want to do, because no one gets a guarantee for tomorrow.” With that, Ryan bent down and kissed her one more time. It was gentle and sweet but definitely not chaste.

  When he broke the kiss and straightened up, Vicki could think again and remembered something that had struck her as very familiar. “That milblog that I read, the guy said almost the same exact thing you just did. Almost word for word, about having no guarantee for tomorrow.”

  Ryan’s face got a funny expression on it. One Vicki couldn’t quite read. “Yeah, about that—”

  He never got to finish his sentence as an explosion rocked the air.

  “Incoming.” A soldier’s distant shout from somewhere outside the tent followed the deafening, ground-shaking boom.

  “Shit.” Ryan sprang into action, turning for the flap leading to the main part of the operations center.

  Vicki jumped up from the cot, ready to follow him anywhere rather than be left alone. “What’s happening?”

  As if her question reminded him she was here, he spun back. “We’re under attack. Get your body armor and a helmet on now.”

  He glanced around, located the items where she’d left them before retiring, and after flinging it all at her, he shoved her far into the back of the small room between two heavily loaded wooden storage shelves and away from the door.

  Ryan ran into the main section of the tent. Panic set in. She could face this with Ryan by her side, but she couldn’t do it alone with nothing but boxes and files for company.

  It might not have been the safest thing to do, but Vicki followed Ryan to the front of the tent. She secured the helmet beneath her chin as she watched him shove his own helmet onto his head. He grabbed a weapon and cracked open the door. Through the tiniest of spaces, he peered out into the darkness.

  The sounds of men running and shouting came through the narrow opening. Ryan slammed the door shut and went to sit at what looked like a console just as a radio sprang to life.

  “Pettit, call for air support. Repeat, we are under attack and need air support. Over.” Hawk’s muffled voice came through the static.

  Ryan sat in the chair and grabbed the microphone. “Roger that. Over.”

  “Tell them to hit the river bed hard. That’s where the bastards are hiding. Over.”

  “Got it, Hawk. Over.”

  Vicki watched, frightened and wide eyed, as Ryan called whomever to order air support to hit the riverbed. He spoke to a British man, judging by the accent of the voice that was coming out of the radio, and then Ryan called back to Hawk. “Close air support. Two minutes, Hawk. Repeat, two minutes. Over.”

  “Copy that. Out.” With the sound of battle almost obscuring the garbled call, Vicki heard Hawk’s response. Then she heard the first part of Hawk’s shouted orders to his men as he cut the transmission.

  It was all so surreal, and at the same time far too real. Hawk had been right. This was no place for her. She wasn’t a combat reporter. This was the kind of life Mel lived. He loved the fight, the action. He thrived on it. He’d been properly prepared for it. All she wanted was to see how a few women lived and then finish her story. Mortars possibly being aimed at the tent where she slept was not part of her original plan. But then again, neither was Ryan.

  His calls made, Ryan rose from the chair by the console and went to the door again.

  “Are you leaving?” Panic tinged Vicki’s words.

  “As much as I’d like to, no, I can’t leave. I’m TOC guard.” He had answered her question, but his attention was on what was happening outside.

  Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know what that means.”

  Her voice must have told him she was upset. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “You should be in the back. It’s safer.”

  She laughed tearfully. “We’re in a tent. How safe could it be?”

  Checking one more time outside, Ryan shut the door with a sigh. “Come here.”

  She went to him and he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry. Being trapped in here instead of out there with Hawk and the rest of my squad is killing me.”

  “I’m trapped in here too.”

  He squeezed her harder. “I know. But there’s nothing I can do to protect you from inside here except maybe throw my body in front of yours and hope the mortar or RPG hits me and doesn’t go through to get you. Out there, with my men manning the rocks, and the second and third squads taking the other positions, we can take out the guys shooting at us. I’d far rather prevent them launching shit at us than try to duck and avoid getting hit with it after the fact. Do you understand?”

  She did, but it didn’t make the thought of being alone and without Ryan during an attack any easier. To distract herself, she asked him another question. “What’s TOC mean?”

  “Tactical operations center. As TOC guard, I have to man the communications until someone else gets here to do it.”

  She knew she was shaking, and Ryan obviously felt it too. He stroked her back and kissed the top of her head. “We’re going to be okay.”

  “How do you know?” She was so close to hysteria she could barely say the words. Just what Ryan needed in the middle of an attack, a hysterical woman. She’d probably distract him from his job and get the whole base blown up. She was really not cut out for this life.

  Ryan lifted his head. “Shh. Listen.”

  She couldn’t hear a thing past the pounding of her heart and her own heavy breathing. “What?”

  He smiled. “That sound. That’s our fixed-wing air support.”

  As if on cue, the night seemed to explode with gunshots and explosions. Vicki jumped, and Ryan held her tighter with one arm while opening the door a crack with the other.

  Then there was silence. Total and utter silence, which seemed even more out of place after the noise of the battle.

  “And that is the sound of the good guys winning.” He grinned before releasing her from his grasp.

  She missed his touch immediately. Instinct or self-preservation had her wrapping her arms around herself as her body still vibrated. Ryan sat at the communications console and fiddled with some controls. He began to talk to someone.

  Through the haze of fright and shock, she heard a British voice on the radio and then Hawk’s voice again. She could barely comprehend what was being said between Ryan, the man who must be a pilot or something judging by the conversation and Hawk.

  What Vicki did get was that all of them seemed to be celebrating. She was pretty sure these men could have been killed tonight, and yet they were acting like boys after winning a football game.

  Unable to stand up any longer, Vicki sank down on the floor and hugged her knees tightly to her chest. What the hell had she gotten herself into? Not only coming here to Afghanistan, but also falling for Ryan. This was far worse than falling for a journalist she worked with. Ryan was a professional soldier. He ran toward enemy fire when anyone else, anyone sane, would run away
from it.

  How could she possibly love a man like that? More than that, how could she face losing him? Because she was pretty damn sure it was already too late to avoid loving him.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Something’s up with you.” Ryan had eventually gotten done with TOC guard duty and all the other assorted crap he had to do. Finally, he had time to track down Vicki. He had found her alone, working on her laptop in his quarters. At last, they had some privacy. That was the good news. The bad news was there was definitely something going on with her. It was almost as if she had avoided him all day. Sure, he’d been busy, but he couldn’t catch her alone, not even once, and he had tried.

  “Nothing’s up. Why do you ask?” Vicki hadn’t even turned to look at him when he’d entered. She stayed facing her computer screen.

  Ryan frowned at her back. “You’re acting different. Strange. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine.” She finally turned sideways in the chair to face him. “When can I go out into the country with you and the squad?”

  That was a big enough change of subject to cause mental whiplash. Unless this was what was bothering her, the fact she hadn’t gotten to research her story yet. Maybe she was afraid to now because of last night. That could be the problem, but Ryan still wasn’t so certain that was it.

  “You sure you still want to go off base with us?” Ryan left the words after last night’s attack unspoken.

  A look of determination settled on her face. “Ryan, it’s something I have to do.”

  “I know. I understand.”

  She looked surprised at that. “You do?”

  “Yeah, sure. I know how important your story is to you.” Because he’d snooped in her computer and read the beginnings of it. Ryan hoped the guilt didn’t show on his face.

  “So when do you think the squad will be going out to see the locals again? Is the moon bright and the flowers all bloomed, or whatever?” She made the small joke half-heartedly.

  He smiled. “We’re not going to do any visiting today, that’s for certain.”

  “Why not? Because of the attack last night?” Her voice sounded strange. Yeah. Last night had definitely freaked her out a little bit, not that Ryan could blame her. The shit hitting the fan might give him an addictive dose of adrenaline, but it had been a very different experience for Vicki.

  “No, not because of last night. If we changed our plans every time there was an attack, we’d never get anything done around here.” Vicki looked even unhappier at that information, so he elaborated. “We got a supply drop earlier today. That’s why we can’t go.”

  Vicki frowned. “I didn’t hear or see any planes or helicopters making a supply drop.”

  “Exactly. The damn pilot missed the drop zone by a couple of miles. Our pallet full of supplies is currently spread all over the ground in the middle of the orchard on the other side of the river. We have to go out and get it and bring it all back.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “For real? You have to go out there to get your supplies?”

  “Yeah. For one, we don’t want the bad guys to get them. For another, we need them for ourselves. Those MREs may not be the best, but at least they’re something to eat. And there’s a rumor we’re getting actual cans of soda this drop.”

  “So, you’re just going to tromp out there, where there are obviously men who want to kill you, and collect your supplies? Right out in the open? Unprotected?” Her expression clearly told him what she thought of their day’s planned activity.

  “Of course not. We’re not unprotected. We have weapons.” Ryan assessed the possible source of the scowl on Vicki’s face. “There’s that look again.”

  “What look?” Vicki avoided direct eye contact. That was not at all encouraging.

  “The same look you’ve had all day. Actually, since last night after the attack.” He moved closer and ran a finger up and down her arm. He expected her to lean into him, like she usually did whenever they were alone and he touched her. She didn’t. “You’re sure there’s nothing wrong?”

  “Mmm, hmm.” She nodded. He wasn’t convinced.

  Ryan dropped his hand from her arm as the door to the hut swung wide and Wally’s form filled the opening. “Time to go, Pettit.”

  “Okay, Wally.”

  Instead of leaving, as Ryan had hoped he would, Wally stood in the doorway and waited. Ryan silently cursed him. Now he couldn’t kiss Vicki; he couldn’t even say anything personal. “See you soon, Vicki.”

  She nodded silently, that strange expression still on her face.

  With one last glance back, and a wink that hopefully spoke all the words that remained unsaid, Ryan turned and left both Vicki and the base behind him.

  With half his mind still back in that hut, a very dangerous place for it to be since he needed it with him for this mission, Ryan joined the rest of the squad and headed out.

  It was a long trip to collect supplies. A journey made extra annoying because the shipment should have been dropped in the correct spot. This happened all too often with supply drops, but Ryan had to admit the view was amazing. He never failed to notice the beauty each time the squad trekked through the mountains beneath the azure-blue skies.

  The day was sunny and warm enough he would have to remember to keep drinking water or risk dehydration. Especially now that the ride in the back of the truck was over. They’d reached the supplies.

  Crazy desert temperatures—cold at night, hot during the day. He was sweating like crazy, and they’d just started gathering the boxes of food, water and other assorted supplies.

  Ryan readjusted the weight of his rucksack and weapons and went back to loading the back of the pickup that would transport the boxes back to the base while the squad walked.

  Perimeter guards, men from Ryan’s squad put in place by Hawk, secured the area during the operation so they weren’t totally sitting ducks.

  A few members of the British squad had come with them this trip. They’d ridden inside the truck instead of in the open back like the rest of them. In fact, it was Wales and Rumsfield from the hut collapse. Ryan shook his head, kept silent about it and kept loading.

  At least Wales was loading his share of the recovered supplies into the truck, in spite of Rumsfield hovering around him like a damn mother hen again. There was definitely something strange about those two.

  Next to him, Wally said, “I’m sure glad we traded TOC duty last night, Pettit, or else I would have been the one to miss all the fun instead of you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Ryan wasn’t about to tell Wally that although he had missed the firefight, he’d traded it off for some pretty fantastic quality time and fun alone with Vicki. Time he hoped to repeat again real soon, if he could figure out what the hell was bothering her.

  Wally grabbed a case and threw it in the back of the truck. “I can tell you one thing. Our air support is loving life lately. Each time we’re hit, they get to fly in here like the cavalry riding to the rescue. I’ve seen everything from Apaches to B1s as air support this deployment.”

  Ryan grunted in response as he hoisted another heavy box onto the tailgate of the truck. “This stuff weighs a frigging ton. It at least better be something good, like that soda they promised us.” Man could only live on water alone for so long. Jeez. The military could at least send them some drink mix or something to break up the monotony.

  “Could be worse, Pettit. We could have to carry it back to base instead of letting those pansy-ass Brits drive it there.” Wally grinned.

  “Hell, yeah.” Glancing around to make sure the pansy-ass Brits weren’t in hearing distance, Ryan agreed wholeheartedly.

  Deciding it was time to take a break, Ryan broke out his water. He took a hefty slug just as Wally asked, “So what’s up with the reporter?”

  Ryan sputtered and almost choked.

  Wally slapped him on the back. “You okay there, buddy? Go down the wrong pipe?”

  Eyes watering, Ryan managed a nod. “Yea
h. I’m good.”

  After ducking down to peer at Ryan’s face beneath the combat helmet and dirt, probably to make sure Ryan wasn’t turning blue or anything, Wally perched his butt on the edge of the bumper and took a slug of his own water. Ryan hoped the coughing incident had distracted Wally enough he’d forgotten about his question. There was no way Wally could know about Vicki and Ryan. They’d never been seen alone together as far as he knew, so what was the question about?

  Wally put the cap back on his water and glanced at Ryan. “I mean Hawk hates reporters. He doesn’t even let her take notes at the meetings or anything. She basically stays holed up in our room or in the TOC day and night. What’s she doing here anyway?

  Apparently, Wally wasn’t ready to let the subject drop, but at least Wally wasn’t asking what was up with him and the reporter, just about her reason for being there. Ryan breathed a sigh of relief at that. “I think I heard she wants to interview some locals, but Hawk doesn’t want her out with us during patrols or missions. And we haven’t been out for social calls since she’s been here.”

  Wally shook his head. “Little did my mamma know when she taught me the proper way to go visiting back in Alabama that I’d be doing it in Afghanistan, drinking chai tea and eating goat in a mud hut.”

  Ryan laughed. The chai was okay except for the floating tealeaves the locals never seemed to strain out, but they also usually left hair on the goat meat. Talk about unappetizing. But he’d learned to smile and chew, and then pick the hair out of his teeth later.

  He’d have to remember to warn Vicki about that before they ventured out and she ate her first gourmet goat meal.

  “I did see her out taking pictures earlier today though.”

  That got Ryan’s attention. “Who? Vicki? Was out taking pictures? Out where?”

  “Over by the volleyball court. Me and some of the guys challenged the Brits to a quick game. We kicked their asses, of course.” Wally grinned.