I love you, Staff Sergeant Anytime!
Rivera shrugged at the woman and as he passed Zanna on his way to the Wet Room, he tossed the basketball to her. The woman looked around the gym, made eye contact with Zanna and smiled sweetly. Zanna responded with her death stare. The woman looked away, flustered. Glad we got that cleared up then. Zanna returned the basketball to its rightful place and dealt with a leg cramp in one of the patient participants.
She arrived in the Wet Room to discover the Scout Snipers had replaced the original risk-assessed games with medieval combat. Pillows had appeared from nowhere and Rivera and Angel were in the pool, each with a patient sitting on their shoulders. The riders whaled on each other with their padded weapons. It seemed that Rivera and Angel were not allowed to help their riders by hanging on to them. The ‘knights’ had to stay on by balance alone, but their trusty ‘steeds’ could maneuver about in the water to line up a better shot.
Last time we were in here, I called you a horse. Now, look at you. The brand on Rivera’s chest was healing well and its raised profile stood out against the tanned skin around it. It is, for want of a better word—and she couldn’t believe she was applying it in this instance—sexy. What I wouldn’t give to be able to run my fingers over it again.
Amanda poked her in the ribs and nodded toward the opposite side of the pool. The sister of the guy in Room Nine had now turned her attention to Mason and he was paying her a great deal of it. When she beckoned to leave, he followed her like a puppy.
The water games concluded and the patients and their supporters filed back into the gym. In the pool, Rivera and Angel took the opportunity to swim a few lengths.
Mason returned alone looking pleased with himself. “Did I miss anything?” he asked sitting next to Zanna.
“It doesn’t look like it, though I wouldn’t have thought she was your type,” she said with a playful grin.
He laughed. “So, what, in your opinion is my type?”
“I don’t think it’s me.”
“So . . . what’s your type?” A look of wonder crept across his face. “No way,” he said, under his breath. “There is no way a girl like you is going to fall for a guy like him.”
Oh, shit. Zanna realized she’d let her gaze wander to Rivera at Mason’s question. “Why not?”
“You’re from another world—no, another planet.”
“What do you mean?”
Before Mason could answer, O’Malley pounced on Zanna. “I wanna see some girl on girl action.” He grabbed her and Amanda by the hand. “Hey, guys,” he called to the men in the pool. “I got your next two victims, I mean competitors, here.”
He dragged them to the edge of the pool, Amanda cringing with embarrassment at O’Malley’s crudeness and protesting she had no swimwear. He ignored her and pulled them in with him.
Zanna was over the moon at finally getting some time with Rivera. But her mood crashed at his next words.
“You and Mace take over. We’ve got stuff to do.” He waded to the side of the pool, push-upped his way out, grabbed a towel and sat in one of the plastic chairs. Angel said something to Amanda, she kissed his palm, then he climbed out and pulled up a chair next to Rivera.
As much as Zanna had wanted to partner with Rivera, sitting on Mason’s strong, broad shoulders proved to be immense fun. Flailing at each other with the sodden pillows, the girls were soon reduced to fits of giggles while trying to stay out of each other’s reach. Amanda’s slight figure was no match for Zanna’s lithe, athletic build, so O’Malley stuck out a foot and brought Mason down. He and Zanna disappeared under water, but came up spluttering and laughing.
Mason lunged at O’Malley. “You cheated.”
“How did I cheat when you didn’t establish any rules in the first place?” O’Malley said, ditching Amanda to defend himself against the onslaught.
“C’mon, you guys,” Raul called. “The dinner is in forty-five minutes. Go get showered and changed.” He tidied the pool equipment.
Mason helped Zanna and Amanda out of the pool. O’Malley took a towel and started snapping it at Mason. They were still at each other like grade-school kids when they went through to the locker room.
“Now, what?” Amanda said laughing and toweling her hair. “I don’t have a change of clothes?”
“I do,” Zanna said. “You can wear those.”
“And you?”
“I’ll be OK.”
Raul joined them. “I’ve got some sweatpants and a hoodie in my locker. You can borrow them, Zanna.”
Zanna gave Amanda the code to her locker and waited for Raul to fetch the clothes.
Amanda cackled at Zanna in the several-sizes-too-large attire, but Zanna got a strange feeling of comfort—of acceptance—from Raul allowing her to wear his U.S. Navy logoed PT gear. On her way back through the gym doors, she glanced back over her shoulder. Rivera and Angel had returned from the changing rooms and were sitting, side-by-side again on the chairs. They had gotten as far as t-shirts and camouflage trousers, but were still minus socks and boots. They were both leaning forward, resting their forearms on their knees—and they were engrossed in an intense conversation.
Zanna let the doors swing to behind her.
* * *
“Rivera’s pulled a knife on Torres!”
Everyone started running for the Wet Room.
Gant’s voice bellowed over the commotion. “As you were!” He strolled through the parting crowd with Zanna at his heels. She fought the urge to push past him. When he slipped through the doors, she inserted her foot before they closed and motioning Amanda to follow her, they snuck through the crack.
Near the far end of the pool, the two Marines stood facing each other, Rivera holding a small switchblade in his left hand. Raul, who was leaning on the wall by the chairs, straightened up at Gant’s approach.
“What’s going on here, guys?” Gant asked in a level voice.
“Stay outta this, sir,” Rivera said, without removing his gaze from Angel.
Gant settled himself in one of the plastic chairs. Zanna started to slide into the one next to him but his icy glare stopped her.
Amanda clutched at Zanna’s arm. “Omigod, Will, you outrank them. Order them to stop!”
Zanna took Amanda’s hand and squeezed it.
“You think that would work here?” Gant held up his hand to silence any more comments.
Angel took a step toward Rivera. “You think you got what it takes, Ding?”
Rivera passed the knife between his hands. “We’re about to find out, Angel.”
Her voice shaking, Zanna turned to Raul. “What the heck are they fighting about?”
“Damned if I know,” he replied with a shrug. “One minute they were chatting and the next it just suddenly flared up.”
Rivera and Angel were now circling, weighing each other up. Rivera feinted and Angel moved so fast Zanna missed quite how he grabbed Rivera’s knife hand in both of his. He continued to run at Rivera, pushing him backward and kicking him in the groin. Angel now had the weapon and he slid it along the ground toward Gant who picked it up.
Rivera sneered. “Sweet.” He threw himself at Angel. They grappled, twisting and turning, arms locked around each other’s necks. They broke contact and stepped back to reassess. Angel made a move toward Rivera who stuck out his left heel and slid it up to the back of his opponent’s knee. At the same time, with his right hand, he pushed Angel’s chest. Angel lost his balance and Rivera crashed down on top of him as he fell, keeping his right knee in Angel’s groin. He repeatedly punched Angel in the upper chest.
Amanda swung around to Gant. “Do something, Will. Please!”
He hadn’t taken his eyes off the men, and he signaled the women to follow his gaze. Rivera stood, stuck out his hand and pulled Angel to his feet. As Angel rose, he twisted Rivera’s hand. Rivera followed through with the twist and attempted to pull Angel over his hip and onto the floor but Angel locked Rivera’s right leg between both of his a
nd pulled him down in such a way that Angel landed on top. Maintaining the leg lock, Angel grabbed behind Rivera’s right knee and leaned backward straightening Rivera’s leg to the point where it looked like it was about to snap.
Zanna gasped. “Will, you have to stop this now!”
Gant was now standing, clapping slowly. She looked back at the men. Rivera tapped Angel twice on his hip. The men rolled away from each other and stood.
“You still let me catch you out with that move,” Angel said, offering a hand to his opponent.
“Only you can,” Rivera replied, pulling Angel into a shoulder bump.
Amanda’s mouth hung open. Zanna shook her head in exaggerated exasperation at Gant.
“You boys want to take this display outside?” he said, indicating the audience craning for a view through the doors.
Angel and Rivera traded shrugs and headed for the gym.
“Display?” Amanda asked with her hands on her hips. “Is that Navy for ‘immaturity’?”
“No,” said Gant with a straight face. “That would be shenanigans. What they performed were moves from”—he spelled out the letters—“MCMAP—the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program—pronounced Mikmap.”
“They are un-be-liev-able,” said Zanna.
“They’re pretty good,” he said.
“I don’t mean that. I mean their behavior; they’re like little children.”
“No, I wouldn’t say that,” said Gant with a stern face. “They’re far worse. But I’ll reiterate, what they do is for real. They use those techniques out there, and while they were pulling their punches here—”
Amanda interrupted. “You call that, pulling punches!”
“Believe me, if they hadn’t pulled their punches and kicks, one of them would be dead by now.”
“Which one?” Zanna asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Who would you put your money on?”
Gant thought for a moment. “They both have strengths and weaknesses. Torres got Rivera in that rolling knee bar.” He laughed at Zanna’s blank stare. “That last leg lock. If he’d followed that through, Rivera would have torn ligaments and a kneecap in pieces now. But, Rivera got Torres to the ground earlier. He would have definitely finished him off from there.”
“Is Angel up to all this?” Amanda asked.
Gant laughed. “He wouldn’t have been RTFD if he wasn’t. And because they’re not on mats, they’re throwing each other more slowly and breaking each other’s falls every time.”
“It didn’t look slow to me,” Amanda said, throwing up her hands and running after Rivera and Angel.
Zanna blocked Gant’s path. “If that had been for real, you could have stopped them . . . couldn’t you?”
“With a verbal instruction? Possibly, but doubtful.” Gant’s phone rang and checking the caller ID, he walked away to answer it.
“You didn’t even have to ask that question,” Raul said. “You know if it had been for real, he’d have stepped in . . . literally.”
“That’s what threw me. The fact he didn’t do anything. It’s so unlike him.”
Raul nodded slowly.
When Zanna entered the gym, Myler jumped in front of her throwing fake punches. “Come on, put ’em up. Show me what you got.”
Zanna pursed her lips and, with her best disgruntled schoolteacher impersonation, glared at him over the rims of some imaginary glasses. Across the gym, Rivera glanced in her direction and his quirky grin faded when their gazes locked for a brief second. Angel placed his hand on Rivera’s shoulder while they engaged in close conversation. At its conclusion, Angel went to Amanda and held her shoulders while talking to her. She wrapped her arms around him, but he gently freed himself and indicated to the rest of the team that it was time to leave.
34
Alighting from the helicopter that transported them to the FOB, Amanda huddled into the collar of her padded jacket. But this temperature was far more bearable than the oppressive heat of her previous visits. Before they’d cleared the rotors, a man rushed up to Gant and shouted something at him.
Gant dropped his bag and ran toward the hospital buildings. “On me!”
Amanda grabbed the messenger’s arm and raised her voice to stand a chance of being heard over the helicopter. “What’s happening?”
“Multiple casualties with serious injuries inbound, ma’am,” he replied, picking up Gant’s bag.
“I’m a nurse. Can I help?”
The man pointed toward the hospital. “What are you waiting for? He told you to follow him!”
Oh, heck. Amanda dropped her bag and raced after Gant.
Many hours later, she was told to stand down and go get something to eat. Gant had just finished surgery on a double amputee and would not be far behind her. She stepped out into the brisk night air, stretched her arms above her head—and jumped out of her skin at the gruff voice behind her.
“Where’s your effing glow-belt, soldier?”
Amanda spun around, shielding her eyes against the flashlight pointing at her. “My what? I—I’m not a soldier, I’m—Captain Washington?”
“No, I’m Captain Washington,” her accuser said with a laugh. “You will be in trouble if you get caught wandering around without your hi-viz belt. I know it was light when we went in there and for that reason, it’s best to keep it on your person at all times.”
Amanda’s hands went to her head. “It’s in my bag. And I have no idea where that is.”
“Relax, it’s been taken care of. You’re billeted in my hut this time. I’ll accompany you, so you don’t get thrown in the brig.”
“Thank you. Why on are earth are you still out here? In Afghanistan, I mean. I thought you only did six months.”
“The Marines get six to seven months. The surgeons here get up to six months, but I’m coming to the end of a twelve-month deployment.”
“That must be very hard on you.”
“I got two weeks leave at the mid-tour stage, and yes, it is hard. But it’s only another three weeks until I go home. OK, now come with me. You’re going to take a quick wash, then we’ll go over to the mess tent and grab a bite to eat. They’ll have some hot food for the medical staff.”
Washington and Amanda—now equipped with her reflective belt—made their way toward the mess tent chatting about the weather, the living conditions, and the likely quality of the meal ahead. At the door, Washington paused.
“I’m leading a medical outreach mission tomorrow. You’re welcome to come along if your schedule permits and you can get clearance in time.”
“Wow, Captain Washington, that would be fantastic. Is it to the same village we visited before? Who do I see about getting clearance?”
Washington held the door for her to enter. “Please, call me Tonya in these more informal surroundings. No, this village is a little farther out. And that,” she said, pointing to a table where two men were drinking coffee, “is who you’ll need to speak to.”
One of the men was Gant and the other was also a surgeon and the new Base Commander; a gruffer man than Colonel Wallace. Amanda was hesitant to bother them after the grueling surgical stint. However, her desire for another opportunity to help the local women and children overrode and she approached the table.
Honor Courage Commitment Page 28