by KC Luck
Grace swung her legs over the edge of her cot and reached for the oversize gray Army sweatshirt to slip on over the tank top and leggings she slept in.
“Come in,” she ordered, and the private pushed through the flap. Cooper started to salute, but Grace held up a hand.
“I'm in my pajamas, Private. Let's keep this informal. Just tell me what's going on.”
Private Cooper nodded. “Yes, ma'am,” she said. “A boat's just come in. Well, more of a ship I suppose. It's pretty big.”
Grace raised her eyebrows. A ship arrived? Now? In this weather? she thought and wondered if the captain of the vessel was either crazy or brilliant to be able to navigate the harbor’s entrance at night in a horrible storm. Either way, Grace felt a touch of regret knowing the choice to pull into Aberdeen was a mistake. Their days of sailing were over.
The crew would be “asked” to relinquish the ship for military use. And everyone will be put in the warehouses being used as government housing with the other refugees.
With a sigh, Grace stood and reached for her uniform hanging on a rack near the tent's wall. She carefully brushed it off every evening to try and keep it clean. As a high-ranking officer, she knew keeping up appearances was important. Unfortunately, dry cleaning was a thing of the past, and if she had to admit it, that luxury was something
she missed much more than a lot of others. Taking the pants from a hanger, she turned to the private. “Have they moored yet?” she asked, and the woman shook her head.
“No, ma'am,” she said. “The MPs on duty instructed them to do so, but the captain refused. Seems they don't intend to stay.” Grace grit her teeth at the news. Great, she thought. A belligerent civilian to deal with in the middle of a storm at zero-dark-thirty. It was the last thing she was in the mood for, particularly because she knew the captain would like being ordered to disembark even less.
“Go back and tell the MPs to continue to monitor the situation but not to engage,” she ordered. “I’ll be there shortly to handle this.”
CHAPTER 6
orning could not come soon enough for Meg. Clearly, Mthe decision to pull into Aberdeen to ride out the storm was a huge mistake. A half-dozen armed soldiers stood on the dock of the marina. They were not happy. When the corporal in charge instructed her to tie off and send the crew to shore, Meg told him in no uncertain terms to kiss her ass. They were at something of an impasse. She was not convinced the group would actually shoot at her when she headed back out to sea at the crack of dawn, but then they might.
As she watched the shore and contemplated how best to protect her ship, or more importantly, her crew, there was a ripple of activity. The soldiers were snapping to attention as an officer arrived. Good, Meg thought. Now maybe we can sort this crap out. It was not like Meg and her team were a threat. They did not even need to trade for supplies having just loaded up with fresh water and dried fish, plus a little beer, at the last stop.
The officer reached the water and had the bullhorn the corporal had been using in her hand. “Attention to all crew of the Wind Dancer, I am Major Hamilton, and I am ordering you to toss you lines ashore to be moored to the dock.” Meg rolled her eyes. They certainly didn’t need to wake some poor major or whoever to just repeat the same message.
Cupping her hands around her mouth, she yelled back over the wind.
“Screw you,” Meg said and heard Jimmy snicker. She didn’t realize her first mate came up beside her.
“Well, that should be clear,” he said, and Meg was glad the man was thinking along the same lines she was about the situation. I guess I should ask my crew if anyone wants to swim ashore, she thought. In case this gets particularly ugly. Before she could send Jimmy to rally the others, he pointed in the direction of the shore.
“Looks like someone is coming out to see you,” he said.
Meg followed where he pointed. A soldier, along with the major, was getting into a dinghy tied up to the dock. Meg shook her head. The last thing she needed was some officer on her ship trying to give her orders.
“You've got to be kidding me,” she muttered wishing the damn storm would ease up at least a little so she could risk navigating
back
out
through
the
harbor's
inlet.
Unfortunately, it was worse.
“Well, you have to admit, that major's pretty brave,”
Jimmy said as they watched the small boat with its two occupants leave the shore and row their way.
Meg raised an eyebrow. He had a point. The water was rough and the dinghy was little. Whoever was coming to see her was determined, and Meg did not know if she should respect that or only be more worried.
AS GRACE WAS HEFTED aboard the Wind Dancer by a pair of sailors who looked none too happy to see her, she tried to keep the relief off of her face. This was no time to show weakness, but the short ride over the choppy water was no fun. She wasn’t a fan of boats, hence her decision to join the army and not the navy. She merely wanted to get this unpleasant business over with. The civilians would be brought to heel, and then she could go back to bed. Not that I’ll sleep, she thought, but it was better than being out in the rain and wind.
Looking around, Grace took in the ship. The sense of order was impressive. Even in the middle of a storm, things were neat and polished. Clearly, the captain took pride in his vessel and that gained a point with Grace. If she could get the man to stop acting like an idiot, things would be fine. Or as fine as they can be, considering he’s about to lose his ship and his freedom, she thought and then shook the frustration away. Orders were orders.
Once the corporal was on deck beside her, Grace scanned the half dozen faces of the crew. Unlike the ship, they were significantly less refined. Shaggy beards, which any pirate would be proud of, and a mishmash of attire. The only thing unanimous about them were the half hostile, half quizzical looks on their faces. Well, in a moment, their questions will be answered, she thought and wished the captain of the ship would come to greet her soon. As if conjuring the man with her thoughts, the circle around her parted and to Grace’s surprise, a woman stepped forward.
The air of confidence, tinged with irritation, rolled off of her in waves. She stopped a few feet from Grace and held her gaze with snapping green eyes which contrasted her fair skin and mane of red hair perfectly. Under other circumstance, Grace would have paused to appreciate the raw beauty of the woman. Everything about her was striking. Grace just wanted to ask the stranger to take her to the captain.
Before she could make any demands, the woman tilted her head, clearly sizing Grace up in return. Finally, she narrowed her eyes. “What in the hell do you want?” she asked in such a blunt tone Grace bristled. After all, she was a major in the United States Army and was the authority assigned to protect this harbor. It was true, in twenty-four hours she was to be reassigned to the reconnaissance mission down to Astoria, but at present, she was in charge.
The corporal beside Grace clearly took offense and jumped in to answer.
“You need to show more respect, sailor,” he snapped.
“This is Major Grace Hamilton and she is the military police officer in charge of the Aberdeen harbor.”
The woman snorted a laugh at the pretentious reply. “My mistake,” she said and smiled.
Grace could not help but notice the way it lit the already attractive face with a dashing air. She is really captivating, she thought and then frowned. Where in the hell is that coming from? It was not Grace's usual response to anyone, let alone a complete stranger she set eyes on less than two minutes ago. The woman's next insolent comment helped clear Grace's head.
“Let me start over,” she said. “What the hell do you want, Major?”
A snicker went through the circle of civilians at the emphasis on Grace's rank, and Grace had enough. She turned to glare at the men. It was a look she knew could strike fear in even the most seasoned soldier, and she was pleased to see it
worked on this group too. Every face sobered.
“Frankly, ma’am,” Grace stated after snapping her eyes back to the woman who appeared to be something of a ringleader. “This is not your concern. Please let the captain of this vessel know I am here to meet with him.” Instead of seeing the stranger concede her authority, Grace was dismayed to hear her laugh. It was a rich, throaty sound and after a beat, the sailors with her started to laugh, too.
Confused, Grace looked to the corporal, and he shrugged obviously not understanding what was so humorous either.
Finally, after the woman’s humor was spent, she stepped forward and extended her hand.
“Major, let me introduce myself,” she said. “I’m Meg O’Grady. Captain of the Wind Dancer. Welcome aboard.”
THE MINUTE MAJOR GRACE Hamilton stepped foot onto her ship, Meg knew the woman was going to be a problem. Not only was she clearly expecting them to follow her orders without question, but she was ridiculously attractive. Even in the dimly lit night, with the wind whipping around them, and rain pounding down, the major’s beauty showed through.
I wonder how she handles that with her male counterparts? she thought fleetingly. Meg’s mind suddenly snapped back to focus when it became clear the officer did not realize Meg was the captain of the Wind Dancer. In fact, the woman was looking for a man to be in charge. She took immense pleasure in correcting her.
The look of surprise on Major Hamilton’s face was priceless, and Meg enjoyed every minute of it. It was evident the idea Meg could be the ship’s captain had not crossed the woman’s mind. This amused and annoyed Meg to no end. You would think being a female officer, especially a beautiful one, she would not make assumptions, Meg thought pretty sure the major’s fair skin blushed a little at the correction. Still, Meg was impressed when Major Hamilton did not miss a beat and carried on like there was no confusion.
“Captain O’Grady,” she said. “I’m here to explain the situation. Camp Aberdeen and this harbor are under military control. You have entered a restricted area.”
Meg tilted her head contemplating the major. She did not like the sound of the woman’s announcement or the arrogant way which she delivered it, yet her beauty was distracting. Focus, sailor, she told herself. This one is way out of your league. Not to mention apparently the enemy.
After a pause, she shrugged.
“So, we will be on our way the minute the sun comes up,” Meg replied. “We’re not a threat.”
Major Hamilton shook her head at the answer. “Doesn’t matter,” she explained. “Your ship is now under military
control. Instruct your crew to tie off at the marina immediately and prepare to disembark.”
Meg’s jaw dropped. She has got to be kidding, she thought. It was so ludicrous, Meg almost laughed again. The no-nonsense look in the major’s eyes squashed it and Meg’s temper rose.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Meg replied with a nod toward the dinghy beside the ship. “The only people who are disembarking are you two. Now, get off of my ship.” Having heard enough, Meg turned to go back to her cabin and wait out the weather. The major’s next sentence stopped her.
“Captain O’Grady, I strongly suggest you reconsider,” she said. “I will use force if necessary to take this ship.”
Meg looked back over her shoulder. “You’re serious?” she asked. “We haven’t done anything but float in here to avoid a storm.” She watched Major Hamilton raise her chin. For a second, Meg thought she saw a look of regret in the woman’s eyes, and then it was gone. Does she not agree with what she is doing? she wondered, but regardless, the woman seemed bound and determined to follow orders.
“You are trespassing in a restricted area,” she said. “All persons and their possessions immediately become the property of the United States Army upon entry.” A sliver of real concern wormed in with Meg’s fury. She turned and stepped up to face Major Hamilton. They were less than six inches from each other and when their eyes met, Meg saw the woman’s determination matched her own. This can’t end well, she thought, but would never give up her ship.
“Over my dead body,” she hissed and saw her adversary's eyes narrow.
“Be careful, Captain,” she murmured and looked ready to follow up her threat when she paused. Eyes holding, the two of them stayed locked in a battle of wills for another moment until the major gave a nod. “I have a proposition,”
she said still keeping eye contact.
Meg raised an eyebrow but did not look away. “Let's hear it,” she said. “But it better not involve anything but me sailing out of here.”
A hint of a smile touched the corner of the major's lips and Meg felt a tiny hint of hope.
“You will retain the operational authority of the Wind Dancer,” the major explained. “But I am ordering you to take my squad and me to Astoria. At dawn.”
CHAPTER 7
ith Lexi, as well as one of her deputies, Taylor rode Wher bicycle to the waterfront and was dismayed to see the rumor she heard was true. A tent city sprang up almost overnight. When she thought about it, the evolution made sense with the steady influx of people over the last few weeks. Groups walking, riding horses, or through whatever other means they found came to Astoria after word spread there was something good happening there. I can’t blame them, she thought rolling to a stop near the edge of the village of temporary shelters. The appeal of food, clean water, mixed with law and order, plus a working medical facility was like the promised land. Of course, people were willing to walk for miles to have a renewed sense of survival. Unfortunately, Taylor also knew more people could equal more problems.
“Wow,” Lexi said as she stopped beside Taylor. “This is a surprise.” Taylor nodded as her deputy rode up as well.
“Pretty crazy, huh?” he said. “Like a week ago, there was maybe one or two families down here. Now? This.” Taylor puffed out a breath at the developments. She was actually quite familiar with gatherings of this sort. Her time in the army led her to third world countries where crowded living conditions were not uncommon. She also knew, if not monitored, they could become a breeding ground for illness, theft, even violence. And when this rain continues? And it only gets colder? she thought. People would become frustrated with their situation. The problem was, Taylor did not know where else to offer them to live. There were just not enough rooms in Astoria to house everyone. Even if
Taylor wanted to ask the families settled along the waterfront to relocate, logistically it might be impossible.
“Not crazy,” Taylor finally corrected her deputy. “Just humanity. People who need our help.” With no other choice, she took a tactical approach to the problem. “We’ll need to add a few foot patrols in the area. But inconspicuously. This is not a police state. Deputy Woodburn and Deputy Matthews are already assigned to this zone, but I’ll want another team of two.” This gathering will only grow and become more crowded. If anything starts to get out of hand, we need to be on it immediately, she thought.
The deputy nodded. “You got it, Chief,” he said. Taylor scanned the tent city again and then got off of her bike, parking it. The next order of business was to take a walk around and talk to some people. Let them know who I am and the good things we have going in Astoria, she thought knowing the badge on her belt would go a long way. The families who migrated here did so because they wanted to feel safe. It was Taylor's job to make sure that happened.
“Head back to headquarters,” she told her deputy. He was in uniform, and that was not the message Taylor wanted to send right then. “Pass the word I want to be notified of any new arrivals. For now, Lexi and I will go say hello.” Lexi stepped off her bike as well and the deputy raised his eyebrows.
“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” he asked. “You don’t know if those people—”
Taylor cut him off with a hard look and she saw him swallow under her stare.
“These are good people, Deputy,” she said. “Just because they are homeless and forced to live in ten
ts does not make them any less than anyone else in this city. Remember that.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the deputy said. “I’m sorry.”
Taylor turned to Lexi. “You ready?” she asked, and Lexi gave her a smile clearly seeing things the same way as
Taylor.
“Absolutely,” she said. Taylor nodded as she led the way toward the widest path through the shelters. People were already coming out of tents into the downpour to greet her.
She took it as a good sign but also knew if she was going to maintain any sense of order in Astoria, the first thing she had to do was make sure no one looked at another as a second-class citizen.
WALKING INTO THE EXAM room, Anna heard a hacking cough and furrowed her brow. That doesn’t sound very good, she thought and took in the scene. An elderly woman sat on the edge of the table waiting for her and held a tissue covering her mouth. Her face was flushed from the exertion, and a young man stood with her, clearly relieved to see Anna. “Hello,” Anna said as she closed the door behind her.
“My name's Anna. What have we here?”
“Pretty bad cough,” the young man replied. As if to prove his point, the woman started again. After the fit subsided, Anna took her stethoscope from around her neck and listened to the woman’s lungs.
“Can you take a deep breath for me?” she asked the woman. When she did, Anna was relieved to hear that the lungs sounded clear. Pulling the stethoscope from her ears, she smiled reassuringly at her. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t get your name.”
“Edith,” the woman replied. “And this is my grandson, Roger.” Anna nodded at the young man as she stepped back and touched the glands along Edith’s neck. Nothing swollen, she thought, moving her hand to feel her forehead. No obvious fever. She stepped back and picked up the notebook to log her patient’s visit.
“Well, Edith, I think this is probably just a bad cold. Any aches?” Anna asked.
Edith smiled. “No more than usual,” she said. Anna found this also reassuring. Again, she was leaning toward nothing but the common cold, possibly just brought on by stress and fatigue.