Chapter 18 Convoy
EIGHTEEN
Convoy
TIA
Somehow, Tia made it back to her barracks…alone. Lyons had tried to tag along, overly protective yet again. As if a female walking alone near midnight in the middle of a military air base was somehow dangerous.
They hadn’t talked much on the walk across base and barely said a word when they separated to head to their very separate barracks.
For a heart-wrenching moment, she considered inviting him back to her small slice of heaven.
The other bunk remained vacant, but bringing him back would mean a chance of being seen.
If she did, what would they do? That had been the only condom between them.
Not that it mattered really. They could have sex without protection.
Annual blood testing assured neither of them was infected with HIV, but there was no telling about other STDs.
She was clean. She and Scott had had themselves tested after he proposed.
A wail nearly escaped from her throat when she thought about Scott.
Wondering if she had been the only one of them to remain monogamous.
How long had he been having an affair? Had it started before or after she left for deployment?
The ache in her chest returned, more painful and poignant than before.
It had been blissfully gone during her time with Lyons, but that brought a different kind of pain. Of all the men to have sex with, why had she had the poor judgment to choose him?
She clutched at the fabric of her blouse, right over her heart, as if that could make the terrible ache go away. There was no healing a broken heart. With Lyons? Well, she’d just fucked up a perfectly healthy working relationship. What was she going to do in the morning?
That answer remained only a few short hours ahead of her on the other side of this terrible night. Worrying over what if and what might be yielded nothing but a sleepless night. Not that she slept well.
Morning came all too quickly and with it came the marching orders for the day.
She met with the team at the chow hall. Somehow, Warren had appropriated that far corner table as theirs for their stay at Bagram.
Like the day before, she sat beside Warren, sandwiched between him and Collins.
Lyons sat opposite Warren with Drummond and Marks filling the bench.
“Everyone’s gear packed?” Collins asked.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
The others chimed in, acknowledging they were ready to go.
“Convoy leaves at noon.”
“Sir,” Lyons asked, “I’m just curious, but did you have a choice in this?
Because I have no problem telling them to shove it.
I played with the band last night. It was epic and awesome, and the idea of playing with them again is pretty amazing, but I can be satisfied with one night. I hate to break up the team.”
“I appreciate that, Lyons,” Collins said. “Initially, I told them no.”
“You did?” Tia asked.
“I did. Usually, a lieutenant colonel wouldn’t get away with that against a colonel, but I had the backing of the medical group commander.”
“Then, why are we going?” she asked.
“It was Mr. Summers actually. He told me to give him names. Said he’d make it happen. Of course, I didn’t believe him, but…”
“But Forest came through,” she said, completing Collins’s statement. “Forest always gets what he wants.”
At least when it came to business. His quirky personality made him a shrewd businessman.
Emotions had no place in business. Unfortunately, that was a problem in his personal life.
He failed to connect with people. There were a few, like Skye and his foster rescues, he had friended, but he remained a lonely outsider in most things.
“He did?” Lyons’s brows nearly climbed his forehead. “How is that even possible? And what do you mean, he came through?”
“Simple,” Collins said, “I tossed out some names. People I’ve worked with before.
I knew there was no way he’d get them to agree to a short-notice deployment.
Hell, the paperwork at the losing units alone…
” Collins waved a dismissive hand. “Anyway, he made it happen. Don’t know how, but I’d laid out my terms, and he met them. ”
“And we’re going on tour with Angel Fire,” she said.
“Looks like it,” Collins said.
“Damn,” Warren piped up. “Wish I played an instrument. I’d love to piggyback on that.”
“Say the word,” Lyons said, “I’m sure Tia can make it happen. She has an inside track with Forest.”
Warren’s brow lifted, and he glanced between them. His lips twisted, as if he were thinking something through. “Nah, I’ll leave it to the two of you.”
The convoy consisted of a troop carrier, several half-tons, a deuce, and a handful of Humvees.
Forest stood with Colonel Vane and directed the loading of Angel Fire’s gear.
They took only the bare essentials, leaving most of their electronic gear behind.
Ash had opted for his acoustic guitar. He called it Baby.
Spike insisted on keeping his as well. Bent had his guitar slung over his shoulder, not convinced it wouldn’t get destroyed when packed in with the other cargo.
Bash hovered over the loading of his drum kit, complaining about having to pare down to the basics.
Through it all, Tia stood with Lyons, suffering through an awkwardness that hadn’t been present before.
He stood a few inches too close. They weren’t touching, but his overwhelming nearness had her looking around to see if anyone noticed.
Did they see the hunger in his gaze when he looked at her?
Did they see some telling emotion scrawled on her face?
Had they already given themselves away? She moved to the side and placed a few inches between them.
Don’t look at him.
Her wandering eyes shifted to the right, turning her chin and the rest of her face. What had that been now? Ten furtive glances at the man who’d invaded not only her body, but also her entire night of dreams?
Warren jogged up, huffing with the weight of his pack. “Hey,” he said, “looks like a nice-sized convoy.”
The convoy followed a schedule of resupply to the smaller, outlying posts.
Once a week, they headed out, bringing ammunition, bombs, food, sundries, and troops.
A constant turnover of personnel was simply the state of things—people coming, going, transferring from here to there, relieving this group or that.
People arrived in theater to replace those who had served their term.
Depending on the airman, a deployment was either a prison sentence or the time of their lives.
For her, it was a little of both. The job allowed her to practice her skills in situations unheard of in civilian practice.
It also exposed her to the horrors of war.
Soldiers shot to hell. Kids blown to pieces.
None of it was good. She focused on making horrible things better. Everyone had their way to cope.
Forest placed his hands to his hips but then shielded his eyes from the bright morning sun. “Lover boy,” he called out.
Beside her, Lyons stiffened, but Ash was the one who answered, “What?”
“Where’s your wife?”
“Where’s your sister?” Ash returned with a volley. “I’m not her keeper.”
“Then, who the fuck is?” Forest bellowed. “We’re taking off in less than half an hour. Go find her.”
“Relax,” Ash teased. “She’s enjoying her last few minutes of hot water. I left her in the showers. She’ll be here.”
Tia looked forward to chatting with Skye during the long trip. It had been far too long since she had a woman around to talk with. The men were fine and all, but it simply wasn’t the same.
Collins called the team together, doing a head count.
Warren had been the last to arrive. After double-checking their gear, they grabbed their packs and loaded onto the bus, heading to the back.
The premier spots up front would go to Angel Fire and their crew.
They even paired down the roadies, bringing only gruff, old Smiley and two younger men with them.
She really should introduce herself and learn their names.
Her pack went to the window, and she took the aisle seat. Lyons made to sit in the row across from her, but she shook her head.
“If you don’t mind,” she said, “I’d like Skye to sit there.”
Without a word, he tossed his ruck into the seat behind her, placing it like she had by the window, and dropped into the spot next to the aisle.
Collins refused to allow the team to be separated from their gear.
It was too large to fit in the tiny racks overhead or underfoot.
It was fine with her because that meant each of them had their own private spot.
The men of Angel Fire hopped on board, and excitement lit their faces with their eagerness to see what lay beyond the security of the base.
The security team had been doubled, perhaps a little more than double. No doubt some of them were a part of Angel Fire’s security detail, but she was fairly certain convoys didn’t travel with that many men.
By the time the bus had been boarded, every seat had been taken, except the one beside her.
Forest sat far forward, in the first seat behind the driver.
Smiley sat in the bench seat across from him.
The two roadies sat behind Smiley. The next several rows were packed with armed security forces, and then the band members stretched out, one to a bench, like her and her team.
“Where the hell is she?” Forest grumbled as he peeked out the small window.
Ash stood at the base of the stairs, his guitar case gripped in his hand. “Here she comes,” he called out. “I told you she’d make it.”
“Goddamn woman,” Forest cursed. “She was never late until she met you, lover boy. You pamper her too much.”
“Like hell,” Ash said with a grin. “She does whatever she wants.”
“Because you let her,” Forest countered.
Ash stepped aboard, thrusting the case in front of him as he worked his way down the small aisle.
Behind him, Skye followed, her long brown hair wet and hanging to the small of her back.
Tia would have to speak with Skye about putting her hair up while out and about.
In this country, women didn’t go out with their heads uncovered.
On base was one thing, and in the field, Tia had her Kevlar helmet, but while they traveled the roads of their host country, all women wore scarves and covered out of respect. Good thing she had plenty.
Ash stopped at the empty seat beside Tia and looked around while trying to figure out where to put his guitar case.
“Leave it in the aisle,” Lyons suggested. “No one is going to be up and about.”
Ash set his guitar on the floor between the seats and slid beside the window.
Skye settled in beside him, leaning into his embrace as he wrapped an arm over her shoulders.
Such an easy intimacy graced the couple, and not for the first time, a twinge of jealousy hitched in Tia’s chest. She was supposed to have that.
Scott hadn’t been one for public displays of affection.
He barely held her hand in public. Skye and Ash snuggled deep into each other’s embrace, gliding fingertips along skin and pressing lips against forehead and cheek.
Tia glanced away before anyone noted the scowl on her face.
Lyons leaned forward and placed his hands on the back of her seat. His fingertips pressed into her shoulders. An accidental touch? Or more? She would need to talk to him about being discreet. Warren had already raised an eyebrow.
“You excited?” Lyons asked. His breath whispered against her ear, sending an electric shiver skating down her spine.
“For?”
He shifted his hand forward, placing it fully on her shoulder where he kneaded her sore muscles. Her muscles were always sore. If she wasn’t humping a ruck, she was at the gym, lifting to sustain the musculature to carry and sometimes run with seventy pounds on her back.
But the answer to his question was a definite no. She wasn’t ready for any of it.