by Elle James
Jonathan nodded. “We were expecting another shipment of medical supplies from the Red Cross a couple of days ago. We got word the truck the supplies were on was captured, the drivers killed and the supplies taken by Boko Haram terrorists.”
Beth shook her head. “What’s keeping them from attacking this outpost?”
“The Special Forces who are collocated with us.”
As they neared the makeshift hospital, the people waiting to see the doctor reached out to touch him as if he were some kind of saint there to heal them. To them, he might as well be a saint or god. When they’d run out of all the natural remedies they could come up with on their own, they put their faith in one man whose reputation was spreading to other villages.
Beth could understand their desire to touch him. For people who were sick or in pain, he represented hope.
They had to duck to enter the hut. Inside was dark except where windows were open to let in fresh air.
A dark man wearing a white T-shirt stood just inside the door. He dipped his head toward the doctor.
“Beth, this is Ekong, one of the locals who can speak a little English. He works as my interpreter.”
Beth nodded. “Nice to meet you.”
The man’s head dipped. “You are the new nurse?”
Beth smiled. “I am.”
“You help the good doctor?” he asked.
“I will,” Beth answered.
“Good. Good.”
Jonathan stepped past him. “We have ten beds on the other side of the curtain,” he said. “All ten beds are occupied. Hopefully, two of the patients will be well enough to go home today. I’ll do my rounds first, then we’ll see the patients waiting at the door.”
They passed through the front room where two medics waited beside portable Army desks. They stood at parade rest until Jonathan stepped up to them and they came to attention.
“PFC Miller and Corporal Ramsey, this is Lieutenant Drennan, our new nurse.”
“Ma’am,” the two medics said as one.
“We’re glad you’re here, ma’am” Corporal Ramsey said. “We’ve been without a nurse for a couple days.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said. “I look forward to working with you.”
Jonathan led the way past the medics and pushed aside the curtain to reveal two rows of beds filled with patients.
One by one, they stopped at the beds that consisted of Army cots.
Beth helped to reapply bandages and clean infection sites.
At six feet tall, Jonathan had to stoop to use his stethoscope to listen to heartbeats or check a dressing. The two men at the far end of the building sat on the edges of their cots.
Jonathan checked them over and spoke quietly to the interpreter, asking questions and listening to their responses. He was quick and didn’t spend more time than was necessary. When he was done, the two men gathered their belongings.
Corporal Ramsey hurried into the ward to help one of the men limp to the exit. The other man walked out on his own where his family was waiting to help him get home.
Beth watched as the two men departed. “What do you do if they don’t have family waiting to help them home?”
“Some of the locals have vehicles. They help those that they can. Other patients don’t have homes to go to. They’ve set up a kind of refugee camp on the other side of the village. Boko Haram destroyed their villages, leaving them homeless.”
“How do they survive?” Beth asked, her heart going out to the men, women and children displaced by the actions of others in a war they hadn’t asked for.
“Donations sent by other countries,” the interpreter said. “When they are not captured by thieves.”
After rounds of the beds was complete, they saw the patients waiting outside. The medics had conducted a quick triage of those present. The most critical were directed to Jonathan.
Beth assisted when needed and dealt with those she could handle on her own.
By the time they finished, it was getting dark. Beth’s belly rumbled.
“We should eat. I’m sorry to say our meals consist mostly of MREs.”
“Considering the refugees get less than that, I won’t complain,” Beth said.
Jonathan nodded. “It’s fuel for our bodies. Even if it’s tasteless.”
Beth sighed. “I’ll get used to it again.”
They returned to the Army camp, grabbed a packet of MREs and sat at a table beneath the camouflage netting to eat, washing down the food with bottled water. The sun was setting and shadows lengthening.
Though exhausted, Beth stayed awake long enough to choke down some of the food, while sitting across from the man she’d almost married.
“What went wrong with us?” Jonathan asked, echoing Beth’s thoughts.
She stared across the table at him. “I’m really tired from my trip here. Now might not be a good time to ask that question.” The fact that he had to ask said it all. He was clueless about how to make her happy. All she’d wanted was a little of his attention, a level of commitment equal to hers. But he truly didn’t see anything wrong with what he’d done by volunteering to go on a mission that would make them move their wedding date yet again…two weeks before they’d been about say I do.
For weeks after she’d called off the wedding, Beth had wondered if she’d made the right choice. She’d wondered if she was being selfish by putting herself and their marriage before the health and welfare of others. The first time he’d forced her to change their wedding date, she’d been okay. The second time, only two weeks before the ceremony…on a voluntary basis…no.
“You’re right. The trip here is exhausting. You need to get some rest.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”
And in an instant, she was back to second-guessing her decision to call off the wedding. When he did pay attention to her, it was good.
But now, there was someone else in the picture. A man she’d slept with. One who made her burn with desire, unlike Jonathan. Their lovemaking had been good, but not anything as earth-shaking as what she’d experienced with Dawg.
On the other hand, if she married Jonathan, she wouldn’t have the Army shaking a finger at her about an officer fraternizing with the enlisted ranks.
The powers that be frowned on officers dating enlisted men. That hadn’t stopped her from going out with Dawg or Nora from falling in love with Rucker. As long as they weren’t in the same chain of command, the Army couldn’t do anything.
Still, it would be easier to be in a relationship with an officer. She wouldn’t have to worry about rank.
Dawg was a Delta Force operative. He’d be gone as much, if not more, than Jonathan. If she dated and then married him, he’d be gone all the time.
That had never been the issue with her and Jonathan. Being gone was something you learned to accept as part of wearing the uniform. It was the fact that Jonathan hadn’t had to go both times he’d asked her to postpone the wedding. Both times, he’d volunteered to go. Other doctors could have taken his place.
But he’d chosen his work over marrying her. Perhaps, subconsciously, he hadn’t wanted to marry her.
Beth stared across the table at the man. He was handsome, in an intellectual way. Dawg was handsome in a rugged, physical way.
Being with Jonathan made her think about them as a couple. Had he learned anything from her calling off the wedding? Did he want her back? If he was willing to commit this time, would she take him back?
And what about the incredible sex she’d had with Dawg before she’d left Texas?
Her head ached with all the thoughts swimming around.
“I think I’ll find my quarters and call it a night.”
Corporal Ramsey suddenly appeared beside Jonathan. “Colonel Parker, sir, one of the Nigerian Special Forces men is asking for you.”
Jonathan frowned. “Is he injured?”
“No, sir,” Ramsey said. “He’s brought his wife.”
“Is
she injured?”
“No, sir.” Ramsey shook his head. “Well, not yet. You see, sir, she’s pregnant and in labor.”
“They have midwives to help them through childbirth. Why did he bring her here?”
“I think the baby’s breech,” the medic said. “Ekong said she’s in terrible pain and has been that way for over twenty-four hours. What do you want me to do?”
“Bring her to our hospital. I’ll check her.” Jonathan pushed to his feet and looked across the table to Beth. “You don’t have to assist if you’re too tired.”
Beth shook her head. “I’d like to help if I can.”
Jonathan didn’t respond but walked out of the mess area and headed for the hospital tent.
A couple of Nigerian men carried the pregnant woman in a fireman’s carry, sitting between their arms.
The woman’s eyes were squeezed shut and her body tensed through a contraction. She cried out as they sat her on the edge of one of the hospital beds.
The medic had the men clear out of the room, except for the woman’s husband. He gave the man a choice of staying or leaving. The man chose to leave, holding his hands up and shaking his head as he backed away from his wife.
Beth figured the man thought of birthing as woman’s work. It was just as well he left. If the baby was breech, they’d have to turn the baby or perform a cesarian-section and cut the baby out of the woman’s belly. Either way would be painful for her. But at that point, she was already in pain and willing to do just about anything to make it stop.
For the next couple of hours, Jonathan worked with the woman. Beth monitored the baby’s heartbeat, watching for signs the baby was in distress.
Given the conditions, a Cesarian-section was risky, especially for recovery.
Jonathan wouldn’t do it unless it was a last resort. “We need to try turning the baby first,” he said. “Beth, are you familiar with an ECV—External Cephalic Version?”
She nodded. “Yes. I know what it is and have witnessed it twice. It’s about fifty percent successful.”
“I’ll take those odds to deliver this baby naturally. I’m willing to bet a C-section would put the mother at too much risk of infection.”
If they could get the baby turned around, nature would take its course and the baby would deliver head-first.
Jonathan spoke to the interpreter, telling him what the woman could expect. After Ekong passed on the information, Jonathan laid his hands on the woman’s belly and applied firm pressure, kneading the baby beneath, guiding it to a head-down position.
The woman’s body tensed as she experienced another contraction.
Beth stood near the woman’s head, stared into her eyes until she returned the gaze. Then Beth showed her how to breathe to ease the pain, encouraging her to do as Beth was doing.
They didn’t have the tools or medications to give the woman an epidural for pain, so she had to manage the pain herself.
Jonathan and Beth worked into the night, trying to turn the baby. When it finally shifted in her belly into a head-down position, Beth wanted to cheer out loud.
By then, the mother was so tired, she didn’t have the strength to push.
Beth held the mother’s hand as the next contraction wracked her body. She helped the exhausted women to halfway sit up for a better position to push the baby out.
After several more contractions, the baby’s head presented.
With each contraction, Beth pushed the mother up to a sitting position and encouraged her to bear down.
Tears streamed from the woman’s eyes, but Beth wouldn’t let her give up. That baby had to come out soon. Already the baby’s heart was showing signs of distress.
“Come on, Mama, you can do it,” Beth said.
On the next contraction, the baby’s head slid out.
Jonathan helped his shoulders through and the rest of his little body slid right out into Jonathan’s hands. He cut the umbilical cord and handed the baby over to Corporal Ramsey.
The medic wiped down the baby with a clean cloth and laid it on the mother’s chest.
Beth massaged the woman’s belly while Jonathan delivered the placenta and checked it over for completeness. After the mother had a chance to be with her baby, Beth took the baby from her arms and laid him in a jerry-rigged bassinet made of a cardboard box with a clean sheet draped around the inside.
By the time it was all said and done, the woman had her baby, the baby was healthy and alive, and so was the mother.
When Beth stepped out of the hospital tent, the gray light of morning was pushing away the darkness of night.
Beyond tired, Beth knew she wouldn’t sleep until she burned off some of the adrenaline that she’d run on during the delivery of the baby.
She asked Corporal Ramsey where her duffel bag had been taken. He gave her directions to find her way through the maze of tents. A few minutes later, she’d found her tent and her duffel bag inside. She quickly changed from her dirty travel clothing to a pair of shorts and her running shoes, pulled her hair back into a ponytail and secured it with an elastic band.
Feeling a little better, she jogged around the perimeter of the Army encampment. It wasn’t a large enough area to burn off the adrenaline she still had racing through her system, so she struck out on a road leading away from the camp and away from the village. She only intended to go a little way, turn around and come back.
She wasn’t far from the camp when she noticed someone running behind her.
Beth knew better than to go running by herself and especially in a foreign country. But she’d been so tired, her ability to think logically had been severely impaired.
Now that she was being followed, her focus became crystal clear. She had to get back to camp.
Unfortunately, whoever was following her was between her and camp.
Beth ran faster, knowing it was taking her even farther away from safety.
What else could she do? She’d left her gun on her cot.
Chapter 6
“I’m hitting the sack,” Rucker said. “I suggest you all find a place to sleep and get some rest. The team we’re replacing has been working this area hard. They haven’t had much time to sit back and relax.”
“Wasn’t very friendly the last time we came to this country,” Bull commented.
“I’m sure we didn’t make any friends by taking out the Boko Haram leader.”
“Too bad we didn’t get them all,” Blade said. “I hear the one they have now is even worse than Kalani.”
“Great. Gives us something to shoot at,” Tank dropped his go-bag outside one of the designated tents. “I call this one.”
Dawg ducked into another of the unoccupied tents, dropped his bag and dug out a pair of shorts and his running shoes. He was changed in less than a minute, strapped on his shoulder holster, tucked his nine-millimeter pistol into the holster and was back outside into the early morning light before the others could choose their tents and get settled in.
“I need to burn off some energy,” Dawg said. “I’m going for a run.”
“Stay close to camp,” Rucker advised. “We haven’t gotten the local briefing yet. We don’t know who’s friend and who’s foe until then.”
Dawg nodded. “I won’t go far. And I’ve got my weapon.”
“Want me to go with you?” Mac asked.
“No. I need the quiet,” Dawg was tired, but he wanted to think about Beth and the night they’d spent together before she’d left. Hell, he’d done nothing but think about her since he’d left her at her apartment.
“I’d prefer you took a buddy,” Rucker said.
“I won’t go far,” Dawg said. “Just around the encampment. Within shouting distance.”
“Okay then, go,” Rucker waved a hand. “I’m too tired to argue. Don’t get yourself killed. I don’t want to do the paperwork.”
Dawg grinned and set off jogging. He made four passes around the camp before he struck out along a road leading away from the camp.
<
br /> Moving helped his body get over being crammed in the back of a C-130 Hercules, hanging from the web seats the entire trip from Texas to Rota, Spain. Afterward, they’d flown from Rota across the continent to Nigeria. He was tired and aching from the rides. Running helped to loosen stiff muscles and clear his head.
Ahead, he noticed a man running. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, and he was as dark as night. When the man dodged around a big pothole in the dirt road, Dawg noticed another figure ahead of him running, and it appeared to be a female who was looking over her shoulder. Was she running away from the man behind her?
Dawg picked up speed, slowly catching up to the man in front of him, which wasn’t easy. The guy had speed going for him. The woman in front of him was slowing. She couldn’t stay ahead of him.
But she sure as hell was trying.
Adrenaline spiked and fueled Dawg’s steps.
By the time the man was within five feet of the woman, Dawg caught him and raced past him.
He caught up with the woman, grabbed her arm, spun her around and turned at the same time to face her pursuer.
When he did, the man skidded to a halt, switched directions and darted into the underbrush alongside the road.
Dawg held his gun in his hand and faced the direction the man had disappeared.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the woman he’d stopped, as she bent over, dragging deep gulps of breath into her lungs. “Hey, are you okay?”
When her breathing slowed enough, she straightened, nodding. “Thanks,” she said and turned to face him.
Dawg swore. “Beth?”
“Dawg?” Beth laughed. “What are you doing here?”
He chuckled. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
She pulled the ponytail out of her hair and shook it loose. “What were the odds that we’d deploy to the exact same place?”
Dawg pulled her into his arms. “Well, I for one am glad to see you.”
She hugged him back, her breathing still labored but more in control. “Not as glad as I am to see you.” Beth leaned back and frowned toward the brush. “I didn’t know how I was going to get back to camp with that guy chasing after me.”