Beyond Valor

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Beyond Valor Page 2

by Lindsay McKenna


  “That’s special treatment. The Marines probably aren’t happy about it, but it would give her some privacy.”

  “I like women. I don’t see that as treating her special,” Buck said with a wily grin. He rose and picked up the rifle he’d leaned against the dusty table. “And I know how strong they are. My only worry is you won’t respect or admire them like I do. I don’t want you pullin’ a Hall on me.”

  “No worries on that score, okay?”

  “Okay,” Buck said, settling the helmet on his head. “But if you got problems, come to me first.”

  * * *

  The shaking and shuddering of the CH-47 helo deepened as it began its descent into the valley toward Lar Sholtan. Megan sat tensely in the nylon-webbed seat squeezed between the aluminum hull and a large shipment of pallets beneath netting in the center of the bird. The loadmaster, a young blond Army spec, sat opposite her. He seemed bored. Looking to her right, Megan felt relief. Her cousin, Captain Rachel Trayhern-Hamilton, was flying. Next to her, in the copilot’s seat, was her husband, Captain Ty Hamilton. They were recently married and were now assigned to the Black Jaguar Squadron. Megan’s red-haired cousin was guiding the huge, unwieldy workhorse helicopter into a circle to land.

  Megan saw glimpses of a wide valley notched between two huge mountain ranges. With her helmet on, she could follow chatter between the Marines on the ground and the pilots in the cockpit. Everyone was looking for a flash from the slopes of the mountains. This could indicate that a Taliban soldier had fired a grenade launcher or rocket against the incoming helo. There was tension in everyone’s voices.

  Megan held her medic pack across her lap. The shuddering of the helo and the roar of the two mighty engines above them made her anxious. Would she get on the ground in one piece or not? Craning her neck, Megan could see the blue of the sky dotted with fluffy white clouds. Below, she spied the sharp, rocky brown mountains. Everything looked dry and dead, like a desert.

  The helo jostled as it hit an early updraft of heat from the valley below. As she gripped her pack, Megan’s heart sped up. Her cousin dropped the helo swiftly toward the ground. If it hadn’t been Rachel at the controls, Megan would probably have screamed. She held her breath as the aircraft dropped out of the sky. At the last minute, Rachel flared the helo, the nose coming up. In seconds, all Megan could see was yellow dust rising in thick clouds around them. Rachel had warned her this would happen. It blinded both pilots and they had no instrumentation to tell them how close they were to the ground except for an altimeter.

  Breath exploded from Megan as the wheels touched the earth. She felt relief. The helo sagged and suddenly the engines were cut. The shaking stopped, the blades whirling more slowly.

  The loadmaster was up and hurrying toward the descending ramp. Megan saw Rachel unstrap and squeeze out of the cockpit. She grinned at Megan and gestured for her to get up and move out of the helo. Haste was part of their life here.

  Megan quickly jumped up, held on to her pack and hauled her duffel bag behind her. Rachel picked up the other strap and they carried the heavy bag down the ramp.

  The dust still swirled and moved around them. Megan coughed and choked. Bits of dust got into her eyes as Rachel guided her off the ramp and toward some unknown point she couldn’t see. Eyes watering, Megan felt the tears running down her cheeks. Hurrying, the duffel bag weighing more than ninety pounds, Megan followed Rachel. She was amazed her cousin seemed to know where she was going.

  Finally, they emerged from the dust. Megan could hardly see, her eyes tearing up, dust and grit blinding her.

  “We’re here,” Rachel called above the noise of the helo engines, dropping the duffel to the ground.

  Megan was happy to let the bag drop to the yellow earth. She wiped her eyes, trying to remove the dust. When she looked up, she noticed two Marines standing in front of her. One was a lanky sergeant with a big welcoming smile on his face. The other was a tall, broad-shouldered Marine in desert fatigues, helmet on, his eyes narrowed speculatively upon her.

  “We got her, Captain,” the sergeant told Rachel as he came forward. “Take off!”

  Rachel nodded, turned and hugged Megan. “Gotta go, Megan. We’re sitting ducks here on the ground. Let Ty or me know if you need help. I love you. Stay safe!”

  Megan hugged her and nodded. In seconds, Rachel disappeared back inside the cloud of dust, heading back to her helicopter. The tall, broad-shouldered Marine with hazel eyes stepped forward, hand extended. Relieved he was offering his large, calloused hand, she took it.

  “Hi, I’m Megan Trayhern. Thanks for meeting me.”

  “Field medic Luke Collier. Welcome to Lar Sholtan, Doc.”

  His smile was warm and sincere. Her tension instantly melted beneath his firm handshake. Luke’s hand was strong, his eyes conveyed intelligence and his smile made her feel more hopeful. “Thanks, Doc.” She saw the medic insignia on his fatigues. One of her kind. There was kindness in Luke’s face and his low, monitored voice convinced her that she was genuinely welcome.

  “Come on, let’s get back inside our fort,” Luke said. “This is Sergeant Buck Payne. He’s our go-to guy in the company.”

  The rotors on the helo’s engines spooled up. She quickly shook Buck’s hand and turned. The bird was already taking off, the sound earsplitting. More dust rose in the wake of its ascent into the blue sky.

  “Let’s move inside,” Buck told her. He easily picked up the heavy duffel bag and led the way. The entire Marine company lived within a large area that resembled a fort.

  Megan nodded and hurried to catch up with the long-striding sergeant. Luke walked at her shoulder. She felt his protective energy, and it was exactly what she needed going into this unknown situation.

  Eyes wide, Megan took in her new home. There were huge, round nylon bags filled with thousands of pounds of sand. They formed a tight circle around the company facilities. On top was a razor-sharp concertina. But now wasn’t the time to linger. She hurried to keep up with Buck and go into the opening.

  A number of curious Marines stood near the opened gate, gawking openly at her. She must have looked like a mess. Tears were still running down her dusty cheeks.

  Once inside the metal gate, Buck ordered it closed. The sergeant headed toward one of mud-and-stone huts that sat in the middle of the enclosure.

  Luke could see the anxiety on Megan’s face. Despite her helmet and Marine fatigues, a rifle over her shoulder and the medical pack, she was obviously a woman. And a beautiful one at that. Strands of red hair had escaped from beneath her helmet. He smiled to himself, that he wanted to protect her. He cautioned himself against unwanted personal feelings. This wasn’t the time or place.

  “You can relax,” Luke told her. “These grunts are curious about you, is all.” He met her gaze head-on. “They don’t bite.” He couldn’t help noticing the gold flecks set in the dark blue of her eyes. Megan was very attractive. Surely, she had a significant other. She was about five foot seven and maybe weighed around a hundred and thirty pounds. Even the baggy camouflage utilities couldn’t hide her swaying hips or long legs. Someone loved this woman.

  Anxious over the stares from the Marines, she flashed Luke an uneven smile. “Are you sure?” Something about this medic calmed her. It had to be his personality and that he was a healer.

  “Absolutely,” he said. Her anxiety seemed to ebb, and he was glad that she trusted him. His heart opened wide as her smile deepened. Megan had a quiet kind of charisma that couldn’t be quantified or explained. More than curious about her, Luke decided his luck had changed for the better.

  Buck led them into the large mud-and-rock house. He dropped the duffel bag in the corner near an empty cot. “This is your home away from home, Doc,” he told her. Luke here is assigned to you. You’re both medics and you’ll be working exclusively with him. You come to me if you can’t resolv
e a problem. And if I can’t, then I’ll be the one goin’ to see Cap’n Hall, our C.O. He’s expecting you, so as soon as you get squared away here in your new digs, Luke will take you over to HQ to see him.”

  “Got it,” Megan assured him.

  “Good. Later.” He lifted his hand goodbye, turned on his heel and exited through the opened door.

  Turning, Megan noticed Luke pulling her duffel bag aside. “That’s my bed?”

  “Yeah, you’re bunking in with six guys, including me. We thought you’d like the corner? If not, we can move you to wherever you want.”

  “I really appreciate your help. I was honestly scared of coming out here. My cousin Rachel, who flew me in, filled me with all kinds of horror stories about these outpost villages close to the Pakistan border.”

  “Amazing you have family over here. We’re in Dodge City here and there’s a lot you need to know so you can be safe while you’re with Lima. It’s my job to get you acclimatized.”

  Luke had scrounged up a bedroll for her. Even a pillow, which no one else had. The cots were Marine issue, olive-green canvas and on aluminum legs. The bedroll would make sleeping a lot more comfortable. He tried to shrug off the tender look that came to her face. Megan was open, Luke realized, unafraid to show her feelings. He responded to her whether he wanted to or not.

  Luke was simply too handsome. He was powerfully built, but then, he was a field medic who routinely went out on squad and platoon missions in these rugged surroundings. The deep tan only made his hazel eyes more prominent. His nose was straight, his jaw clean and set in a square face. A small, thin scar ran alongside his left brow. Combat injury? Without thinking, Megan glanced at his left hand. Surely, he was married, though most men did not wear their wedding rings in a combat area. Why did she care about this?

  Alarmed at herself, Megan looked around the dimly lit hovel. It had no electricity or running water. There was a square, dusty wooden table with a kerosene lamp. Only light pouring in through the opened door allowed enough light to see within the home. “When I was in training at Camp Pendleton in California, they tried to impress upon us the terrible conditions we’d be living in.” Lips compressed, Megan added, “This is a really dirty place....”

  Luke got the cot squared away for her and moved her duffel to the end so she could easily reach it. Laughing softly, he said, “Trust me, medics know cleanliness is next to godliness.” He straightened and looked over at her. “This is the dustiest place on earth, except for where I was born.”

  “You were born in a desert?”

  “Yep, Phoenix, Arizona. That place is a dust bowl, too.” He grinned and gestured around the hovel. “Made me feel right at home here in Afghanistan.”

  Megan stood uncertainly. The medic was tall and terribly handsome in a rugged kind of way. His smile went through her like sunlight and helped her relax. Maybe it was his warm hazel eyes that made her feel safe. “I like your attitude.”

  “You’ve got to develop one out here,” he told her. “Here, have a seat. I scrounged up a beat-up teakettle and I got real coffee on hand.” He went over to a hot plate lodged in the corner, turned it on and set the copper teakettle down. “We’ll sit down, chat and share a cup of the good stuff.”

  “But...this place has no electricity. How does that hot plate work?”

  “Oh,” Luke murmured, “I’m the company scrounger. On a flight into Kabul HQ last week, I found this little discarded generator and brought it back. I’ve got the wires running under the adobe and stones here. One of the grunts is an electrician, so he wired it up.” Giving her a humored look, Luke added, “This company is a full of coffee hounds. You’ll get used to the foot traffic in and out of here.”

  Megan smiled. “So you’re a real scrounger? That’s great. The Navy ship I was on before I volunteered for this assignment had a chief petty officer who got us anything we needed it. Scroungers were absolutely essential to an outfit. They make our day, to say the least.” She noticed Luke preening. For a moment the man disappeared and she caught a glimpse of the little boy beneath. Megan had to stop herself from simply staring at Luke. He was eye candy of the finest sort.

  “Whatever you need, all you have to do is ask. I’m starting my third tour over here and I have connections.” Luke heard the water begin to boil in the kettle. He was drawn to Megan. She had a solid, quiet demeanor that bred confidence. He imagined she was an outstanding medic. Patients would instantly trust her. “You’ll feel better after a good cup of hot coffee. I get my beans from Brazil. They’re the best.”

  Setting her medic pack down on her cot, Megan laughed. “It’s a good thing I ran into you, then.” Looking down, she appreciated the Persian rugs of various colors and designs that covered the dirt floor. Suddenly, all her trepidation about this assignment melted away. Luke Collier was intelligent, sinfully good-looking and he made her feel safe in a world she knew could kill in a heartbeat.

  Chapter 2

  “Shouldn’t I get over to Headquarters and let Captain Hall know I’ve arrived?” Megan asked.

  “After coffee. Right now the day’s getting into high gear. The captain will have his hands full with the squads going out looking for IEDs along the road to the village.” Luke glanced over his shoulder as he made coffee and took note of the worry in her eyes. “Things are done different out in the field. I know he’s not expecting you to show up right now.”

  Megan watched the activity outside the door. It was early June and the valley sat at five thousand feet. The weather was cool, but not cold. She was glad to be wearing the flak jacket because it kept her warmer. “I’m used to being on a carrier out in the middle of the Pacific,” she said somewhat as a joke.

  “How long you been in the Navy?”

  “I’ve been in since age eighteen and I’m twenty-six.”

  Luke brought the two chipped ceramic mugs filled with steaming coffee to the table. “Cream? Sugar?”

  “Neither. Thanks.”

  He sat down opposite her on another wooden barrel. “Buck said you’re an HM2?” he asked, lifting the cup to his lips.

  “That’s right. What’s your rating?”

  “Same.” He grinned. “Makes us equals.” Luke tried to ignore her hair. Even though it was drawn up into a ponytail, he could tell it was shoulder-length. Mentally, he tried to picture it framing her oval face. Her complexion was pale, her cheeks stained pink. What would it be like to loosen that thick, coppery hair and allow it to fall through his hands?

  “I didn’t know who I’d be paired up with once I got here. We were taught in training that we’d have to work directly with the C.O.” It was so easy to stare into Luke’s warm green-and-gold gaze. She liked the gentle energy she felt around him. Most field medics were humble and passionate about helping others. Luke was no exception.

  “Captain Hall may or may not do that,” Luke warned. “He’s a manager, not a control-freak kind of officer. For example, I man the dispensary at Lima. I pretty much have the run of the company to do what I want. My main contact is Sergeant Buck Payne. I know you have to report for duty over at the C.O.’s office, but I’m guessing he’s going to tell me to be your main contact.”

  “Is Captain Hall on board for this experiment?” Megan wondered aloud.

  Luke shrugged. “I don’t know.” It was important Megan feel a part of Lima, not abandoned by it.

  “How about the rest of the Marines? Have you heard anything?”

  “I think most of them are curious. So am I. I like the idea of a woman being with us to deal with the villagers. As a corpsman, I can’t examine a woman or a little girl who is seven years or older, by Muslim law. That means the females in a village are never taken care of medically like the men are.”

  “It’s a stupid law.”

  “It has its drawbacks,” Luke agreed, hearing the growl of frustration in h
er husky voice. He smiled. “So, tell me about yourself. For some reason, the name Trayhern rings a bell.”

  “You’re thinking of my uncle Morgan Trayhern,” Megan said.

  “That’s it!” Luke snapped his fingers. “Your uncle Morgan is part of Marine Corps history. He had his company wiped out in the Vietnam War and then suffered a head injury. If I recall right, he spent time in the French Foreign Legion afterward because he couldn’t remember who he was.”

  “Right,” Megan said. “Eventually, his memory did come back and he came home. The newspapers made him out to be a traitor and he wasn’t. He cleared his name with Laura’s help, who was a military archivist in Washington, D.C.” Megan’s voice softened. “They fell in love during the time of proving him innocent. She’s a wonderful person and I’m proud of our military family history.”

  “You should be. Your family is a military dynasty. Every child, if I recall, does at least six years of military service?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you chose to become a field medic. I thought most of your family were officers in the different branches of the military.”

  Shrugging, Megan said a bit defensively, “I did get an invitation to train at the academy of my choice, but I didn’t see myself as a leader. I had other priorities I felt were important to follow.”

  Luke studied the frown gathering on her brow. Her eyes, once light, were now shadowed. He sensed sadness around her. “Like what?”

  “I’ve never been a proponent of carrying a weapon and killing another human being,” Megan said, setting the mug on the table. “I just can’t see myself doing that. At the academies, you’re taught to shoot to kill. I wasn’t cut out for it. So—” and she drew in a deep breath “—I decided to become a registered nurse.”

  “Then you went into the military after graduating?”

  “Yes, but not as an officer. They let me have my pick of career positions. I wanted to use my medical knowledge as a nurse and I chose to become a hospital corpsman. Field medicine really appealed to me, so I made it my speciality.”

 

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