Chapter Thirty-One
A li wasn’t sure if Max was having an epiphany or an aneurysm.
“How do you feel?” he asked again.
She’d been trying not to think about how she felt.
“You’re not coughing.”
She frowned. “No, I’m not. I don’t think I have a fever either. I hurt everywhere, but I’m not sick.”
They stared at each other until Warren groaned.
Max looked at the soldier, who was slowly regaining consciousness.
“It’s too soon to know,” Max said, answering the unasked question hanging between them. He turned back to Warren, his voice low as he asked the soldier about his injuries.
Ali made eye contact with Hunt and Jessup. “We need to clear the area, hunt down those three that took off after Max’s distraction and get in touch with our brass. I think Max is going to want more supplies dropped ASAP.”
“There are dead bodies all over the place, Stone,” Hunt said. “We need a fucking brigade in here to clean this shit up.”
“Yeah, we aren’t getting any sleep anytime soon. I’ll stay with Max. Can you two take care of our rabbit problem?”
“Yeah, we’re on it.” They waved and moved off at a walk rather than a run.
Ali didn’t blame them. She moved over to begin checking the bodies for weapons and made a pile near where Max was helping Warren get his clothes out of the way so he could check the man for broken bones.
“Max, we need help,” Ali said to him.
“I heard and agree. I used a radio I picked up off one of the dead extremists, but it’s no good for contacting our people. My sat phone got destroyed.”
“Akbar took mine.” Along with most of her weapons, knives and guns. “I’ll get it.”
“Is he still alive?” Max asked.
“No, I sort of killed him with a knife through the eye.”
“Sort of?”
She walked over to the chemist. “Fine. He’s all the way dead.” She rolled the body over, pulled out her knife and began patting him down. She’d seen him stick her satellite phone inside his jacket.
She opened his coat, began patting and searching pockets. A puff of powder hit her in the face. It shocked her enough that she sucked in a breath.
She immediately began to cough convulsively.
“Ali?” Max called to her, his voice rising. “Ali?” He got to his feet.
She put her hand out to stop him from coming closer. “Don’t.” She continued to cough convulsively. “Whatever it is, it’s still in the air.”
Max swore long and loudly as she reached back into the pocket, pulled out her sat phone and punched in some numbers.
“I’m calling my dad,” she told Max, then had to yell, “Stop!” when he took a few steps toward her.
He halted, his hands clenched into fists.
“Ali?” Her father’s voice barked at her from the phone.
“Dad?” she said. “We need...help.”
“Report, soldier!” Her father’s disciplined bark offered a comfort she’d never expected.
“Akbar is dead,” she said, coughing and wheezing into the phone. “There are still armed militants not in custody. This place is ground zero for a deadly flu, so we’ve got sick and dead bodies all over the place.” She had to stop to try to catch her breath.
“What else?”
How did he know there was more to her report?
“When I searched Akbar’s body, I triggered a booby trap and got hit in the face with some kind of powdery substance.”
The silence from the phone was louder than a death knell. Finally, General Stone asked, “What do you need?”
She almost laughed. Nothing could help her now. “A full brigade of soldiers, a combat support hospital, and a fucking miracle.”
“Tell him,” Max yelled as he helped Warren to his feet and began guiding the man farther away from Ali and Akbar’s body, “to put all personnel into biohazard suits. We’ll need that antibiotic cocktail I developed for Akbar’s anthrax strain and enough medical and food supplies to support several hundred.”
She relayed all that.
“Tell him to get the antibiotics here as fast as he can.” Max’s voice broke and he fell silent.
She relayed that too.
There was some noise coming over the phone, voices, yelling, and a door slamming shut.
“Ali, everything is on its way. The antibiotics are going to be dropped first via drone.”
“Thanks, Dad. I don’t think it’s going to get here in time, though.”
“Are you sure the powder was anthrax?” her father asked in a subdued tone she rarely heard from him.
“Don’t know,” she said, coughing. “Whatever it was is making it hard to...” She stopped talking to cough and cough and cough. “Breathe,” she finally got out.
“Support is on its way. Hang on, soldier.”
“I will, sir.” She ended the call, not wanting to make her father listen while she slowly died.
“Ali, move so you’re sitting up against the well,” Max ordered, his voice still broken.
“Yes, sir, Colonel, sir,” she said, crawling over to the stone-and-wood well housing. “Any other orders?”
“Yes, an extra-large pepperoni with mushrooms.”
“Ha, ha.”
She heard footsteps. When had she closed her eyes?
Max was walking toward her, a determined expression on his face.
“Oh no you don’t, Doctor,” she said, pointing at him. “One of us dying of this shit is enough.”
“I can’t just stand by and watch you—”
“You’re not standing and watching at all,” she said between coughs. They weren’t as body racking as they’d been a couple of minutes ago. Or maybe it was because she was so damned tired. “You need to make sure those armed men are secure and then prepare for that air drop.” She smiled at him and patted the ground beneath her. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
Gunfire in the distance helped to emphasize her point.
“Give me a weapon,” Warren said from where he was sitting on the ground in front of a house. “I’ll keep an eye on things here.”
Max rolled his eyes. She could almost hear what he was thinking... Goddamned Special Forces soldiers.
“Fine. Stay here and don’t get up, either of you.”
“It’s just cracked ribs,” Warren complained.
“It’s not just anything,” Max snapped. “You have a concussion and several deep tissue bruises.” He whipped around to stare at her. “And you,” he said in a tone that allowed for no argument. “No dying while I’m gone.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”
He stared at her, his face a mask of anger, frustration, and hopelessness. Seeing him this way hurt worse than the pain in her body. “Good,” he said, but the word was almost unintelligible.
That’s when she saw the tears on his face.
Her ultra-competent doctor was coming apart at his emotional seams. Before she could think of something comforting to say, he nodded at her, turned, then marched toward the valley.
“He’s totally in love with you,” Warren said to her after about ten seconds.
“Don’t make me shoot you, asshole,” she replied. “I don’t have time to hide your body before someone comes back.”
“Just sayin’.”
“Don’t. Don’t say it. He’s doing a job no one else can do and he doesn’t need schoolyard gossip fucking him over.”
Warren was silent for all of two seconds. “Does he know you’re in love with him too?”
She sighed, which led to a nasty coughing fit. “I’m going to find my gun, load it, and fucking murder you if you don’t shut up.”
“My lips are sealed, but I would like an invite to the wedding.”
“Asshole,” she said, running out of energy all of a sudden. Her chest was so tight, and she’d hit her wall. Her eyes slid shut and all she heard was white noise.
* * *
S he had to fight her way back to consciousness.
At first, all she knew was Max’s voice. She couldn’t understand what he was saying, but she’d know his timbre and tone anywhere. She blinked heavy eyelids open, but nothing seemed familiar.
A flurry of movement at the edges of her vision caught her attention and pulled her further into the world.
There were people, lots of them, all in biohazard suits, rushing around with body bags on gurneys. A hand crossed her vision and she followed it back to her own left hand. An IV had been inserted and a tube led up to a bag of fluid, dripping its contents into her vein. Two other, smaller bags were connected to the IV tubing, also contributing to whatever was being administered to her.
A shadow crossed overhead. A tent, tall enough for a man to walk upright in, passed over her and settled around her. She wasn’t sitting up against the well anymore. She was lying down on a gurney. She tried to talk, but all that came out was a painful cough that wouldn’t let go of her lungs. She rolled to the right in an attempt to find a position that would allow her to breathe easier.
Hands supported her shoulder and back until the fit passed, then gently helped her to lie down again. Max’s face, distorted by the faceplate of a biohazard suit, hovered over her.
“Sergeant Stone, how do you feel?”
So, they weren’t alone.
“I haven’t really taken stock, sir.” She did an internal audit, but had no good news to report. “Breathing is difficult, chest is tight.” She coughed and something wet splattered across her face. She wiped it away with her free hand, and it came away bloody. “And this isn’t a good sign.”
“What did I say about dying?” Max demanded. “You’re not allowed to die. Ever .”
God, she loved him. “Honey,” she said conversationally, “I don’t know where you got them, but you can take the crazy pants off now.”
Instead of rolling with the joke, he paled and looked like she’d knifed him in the heart.
“Max? I’m sorry,” she said, shocked at his response. “I promise not to die.”
“She’s delirious?” asked a female voice.
“No,” Max replied. “She thinks she’s a damn comedian.”
The woman approached and nodded. “The tough ones are like that. It’s a coping mechanism for when shit hits the fan.”
“Hey, Dr. Samuels,” Ali tried to say between coughs. “Tough ones what?”
“People, soldiers, heroes,” the doctor replied with a tight smile. “Like you.”
“Give her a break, Grace,” Max ordered. “She’s had to put up with me and my lack of soldiering skills.”
“Ha,” Ali managed to say clearly. “You shot at two enemy targets and hit both.”
Max shook his head. “No, you’re right, Grace. She is delirious.”
Now who was the comedian? She wanted to ask the question out loud, but another coughing fit hijacked her body. Who knew how much longer she’d be breathing, let alone talking.
“Colonel,” she said, finally able to speak after several seconds of concerted effort. “Could I speak to you privately for a moment?”
Dr. Samuels looked surprised, but she quickly moved out of view.
Max looked at her questioningly.
“I don’t know how long I have, so I figured I’d better say this while I still can.”
“Ali, it’s okay. There’s no need to give me your report.”
Report? Either they weren’t alone or he was trying to put off the bad news. “You are the bravest man I’ve ever met.”
He stared at her like she’d just spoken gibberish. “What?”
“Didn’t you know? Brave doesn’t mean aggressive. It means putting other people before yourself, putting their safety before your own. You’ve never once hesitated to do that.”
His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he managed to say, “Well, some might just call me...slow.”
“Tell them to talk to me. I’ll set them straight.” She smiled at him, tasting far too much iron on her tongue. “I love you. I wish we could have had more time together.”
His mouth did another excellent fish-out-of-water impression before he gathered his wits and growled at her. “Don’t you dare give up now, you stubborn, hard-headed woman.”
She almost laughed. “I’m not giving up, I’m strategically retreating.”
“All retreats, surrenders, and capitulations have been canceled.” He leaned down and pointed a finger at her. “No exceptions.”
The weight on her chest had gotten a lot heavier, pressing down, making her fight to breathe. “Promise me you’ll follow your own orders, sir,” she managed to say just before the heavy blanket of night closed over her head.