A Prince Among Men (Red, Hot & Blue)

by Cat Johnson

  The ascent became steeper and was riddled with rocks, loose dirt and gravel that gave way underfoot. It sucked, but this path was the best option for them to move into position undetected.

  Ryan had no idea what time it was. He didn’t dare turn on a light to see his watch because it could be seen. The same reason why Hawk couldn’t shine a light on the map of their route he’d memorized before they’d left. In spite of all the technology and gadgets available to the modern-day soldier, tonight Ryan’s squad relied on the same things soldiers hundreds of years ago had—their instincts, a paper map they couldn’t see in the dark and their leader’s ability to keep them from getting lost or killed.

  Clear and bright in the night sky, the stars twinkled. It seemed as if you could reach right up and touch them. Stars were never this bright near the bigger bases or cities where Ryan had spent most of his life. Too many lights there. Only on a mountaintop in the middle of a desert could you get a night sky like this. The sight almost made it all worth it…almost.

  Feeling strangely romantic, Ryan thought about what it would be like to lie under the stars on a blanket with Vicki at his side…or maybe beneath him. Mmm.

  His foot slipped and he nearly went down. Catching himself with one hand, Ryan took that as a warning to stop letting his dick do the thinking or it would get them all killed. He pushed aside thoughts of the sweet woman asleep in his bedroom and went back to concentrating on the mission.

  As he grew more tired, choosing his steps became harder. In the darkness, Ryan chose badly. One moment he was walking beside Wally, and the next he was falling as the rock ledge gave way beneath him.

  Ryan plummeted twenty or thirty feet down the side of a mountain. The only sound was that of tumbling rock and a grunt he couldn’t silence. He stopped falling suddenly with a wrenching pain in his knee. He managed to keep his mouth shut in spite of the pain.

  Squinting up the mountain, he was relieved to see the dark outline of the rest of the squad kneeling at the edge, peering down at him.

  “Pettit. Report.” Hawk’s voice came through Ryan’s earpiece.

  “I’m okay. I don’t think anything’s broken.” Ryan realized his whispered reply sounded shaken.

  Judging from the sound, the rubble had continued to fall far below his resting place. His leg had gotten caught in a crevice or he’d be at the bottom by now with those rocks.

  Two of the men—it looked like Walker and Moraches—started down the mountain toward him. He could use the help. The quicker they got back on track the better, because at the moment they were sitting ducks. He pulled himself up toward the two teammates who were working their way down.

  It was slow going. When the three of them finally stood again upon the path, Ryan’s knee buckled when he put weight on it.

  Wally moved closer to Ryan and shot him a questioning look. As much as his squad all liked him, Ryan knew it would really suck for them to have to carry him the rest of the way, and then back home from there in the morning.

  He tested his left knee again, gingerly putting weight on it. He winced but signaled to the squad he could walk. It would be sore as hell for a while, but he was more pissed off at himself for falling than he was injured.

  Seeing Ryan could walk, Hawk nodded and the group was on the move once again. The only indication of what had happened was Ryan’s limp. They had no choice. Their squad had to be in place to secure the area before the main force arrived.

  Finally, they reached the endpoint and Hawk called to the higher ups to report their arrival.

  They’d been on the move for hours and Ryan’s knee was rapidly blowing up to the size of a balloon, but the night had just begun. They prepared to spend many more hours atop a mountain peak unseen and silent above a known insurgent strongpoint located only a few hundred meters away. Through thermal viewers, the men would take turns watching the specified area.

  It took less than half an hour for his damp feet to begin to feel numb. Strange to say, but Ryan was grateful for the cold. It gave him something to focus on besides the ache in his knee, the enemy, how tired he was and Vicki.

  Hawk, as leader, assigned a sleep schedule. The men slept in shifts while others kept watch. Shivering, Ryan laid his body out on the hard rocks and closed his eyes for his turn to rest. He fell asleep with visions of Vicki dancing in his head.

  Thankfully, all things, both good and bad, eventually come to an end. So too did this overwatch mission. That it had been uneventful with no enemy contact made Ryan even more grateful given the state of his knee.

  Red-eyed from exhaustion, sore from lying on hard, unforgiving rocks and shivering from the cold, Ryan and the rest of the men rose upon Hawk’s order. Silently and efficiently, they packed the mortar and whatever else they had taken out of their rucksacks over the course of the night. In full daylight now, they started their trek home.

  The journey back to base felt even longer than the trip out the night before had, particularly to Ryan, whose knee was telling him it wasn’t at all happy with the treatment he’d subjected it to thus far.

  When the squad walked through the gate, they found the main force had returned with all men present and accounted for and no casualties. Aside from his sprained knee, Ryan considered the mission a success and, more importantly, complete. He looked forward to falling into his bed for a nice sound sleep for a few hours.

  Beneath the morning sun, the three tired, dirty and hungry roommates headed for home, sweet hut.

  Probably because of his sheer exhaustion, Ryan had forgotten about Vicki during the return trip from the mission, but as he walked into the hut, he was assaulted with reminders everywhere—her computer on the desk, her duffle on the floor, the scent of her perfume, probably the most out of place of all the reminders. He’d briefly forgotten, but Ryan sure as hell remembered now. Vicki had spent the night here, but where was she?

  Ryan glanced at his two companions, who seemed to also have just remembered they had a houseguest. Feeling very much like the three bears coming home to find evidence of a visitor in their little house, each man turned toward his own rack to see where she’d ended up. And there, in Ryan’s bed, the only bunk with even an illusion of privacy because of the open but well-stocked storage shelving angled in front of it, was their own little Goldilocks, asleep beneath his blanket.

  Hawk raised a brow and shot Ryan a look before glancing at his watch. “Late sleeper.”

  To be fair, it was still early morning. For a civilian, it wasn’t late at all, but Ryan didn’t care how late she slept.

  Wally grinned. “Looks like you won the reporter lottery, Pettit. Of course, if you’re tired, feel free to put her in my bed. I don’t mind one bit.”

  Ryan liked the idea of this woman being in his bed, even if he wasn’t in it with her. It was as if she’d chosen him, as well as his bunk, by crawling beneath his covers last night.

  Hawk shook his head. “Just don’t put her in mine. I’m going to shower and then debrief. When I get back I expect to sleep…in my own rack.” He added the last with a warning in his voice.

  As Hawk left, Wally grabbed his toothbrush and turned toward the door himself. “I’ll see you in about thirty.”

  “Where are you going?” Ryan asked. A man didn’t take thirty minutes to brush his teeth. Not even Wally with his big mouth. For some reason the thought of being alone with the sleeping woman in his bed for a full half hour made Ryan nervous.

  “I’m fixin’ to grab some chow before hitting the rack.”

  That figured. Nothing ever bothered Wally’s appetite.

  Ryan shook his head. He was far too tired to be hungry, but his bed was currently occupied. Although he wouldn’t have minded crawling right in next to her soft, warm, sleeping body, he doubted Vicki would appreciate him doing that. Instead, Ryan grabbed his stuff and decided to head for the shower trailer. Then, when he got back, maybe Vicki would be awake and up and out of his rack. Though he doubted he’d get her having been there out of his mind as qu
ickly.

  Chapter Eight

  The best-laid plans often went awry. When Ryan returned to his quarters, clean and showered with his teeth freshly brushed, Vicki was still asleep in his rack. The worst part was that seeing her in his bed all snuggly under the blanket pretty much robbed him of any chance to sleep as his mind reeled with images of the two of them under that blanket together.

  What he could do with just an hour, a bed and her.

  Still staring at the lump she made under the covers while trying to decide if he should lie down in Hawk or Wally’s bunk and try to get a few minutes shut-eye before they returned, Ryan leaned one hip against the desk and then jumped when her laptop sprung to life. She must have left the computer on the night before. He’d jarred the desk enough to wake the sleeping laptop.

  Glancing at the screen, Ryan saw she’d left the document she’d been working on open. He was definitely being nosy, and he did at least have the decency to feel guilty about it, but he couldn’t help himself.

  Ryan sat down to see what she’d been up to the night before. Hawk had ordered him to make sure she wasn’t snooping in things that didn’t concern her, things that might compromise security. Sexy or not, she was a reporter. Snooping came naturally to them. So in reality, it was Ryan’s duty to read what she had written. Besides, he simply couldn’t give up the opportunity to learn more about his own Vicki V.

  Excuse firmly in place, Ryan quickly perused Vicki’s document. It appeared to be an article she was writing. With one more quick, guilt-ridden glance toward his bed, Ryan leaned forward and began reading.

  The resurgence of the Taliban in Afghanistan continues in spite of the presence of more than 60,000 foreign troops under the command of NATO and the US military, as well as over 150,000 Afghan forces. And yet, in spite of the manpower, it still feels as if the war for Afghanistan will have to be won not only one battle at a time, but more likely one man at a time.

  This is particularly true when it comes to the battle for basic human rights for the women of this country. For every one step forward, there seems to also be a step back. Case in point, the female Pashtun television reporter who was murdered in her home for refusing to marry.

  After each victory in women’s rights here, one must hold one’s breath and wait for the backlash that is sure to strike in response. Yet we must still celebrate each victory in the hope that one day this country will change.

  One such victory story that must be celebrated for its endurance is that of Suraya Talid, the Afghani mother of six who in 1988 founded Power for Women, one of only a few women’s nongovernmental organizations in Afghanistan. As an American woman, this reporter cannot even begin to imagine the vast amounts of courage that took under the rule of the Taliban.

  Talid’s dream of an organization that would teach women and young girls how to read started its work in secrecy in her home. Talid reported that when the women gathered together, the volunteer teachers would use donated books to teach them. They met only in places that had an oven, so if they were discovered, they could burn all the books. The fear of discovery and of the consequences must have been overwhelming for the women involved, at least equal to the rejoicing and relief when the Taliban lost its political power.

  After the fall of the Taliban, Power for Women began to conduct its work openly. Talid’s dream has endured and is now the only nongovernmental organization in the third largest western city in Afghanistan.

  One of the organization’s core services is to provide shelter and counseling to women who recently have been released from jail and women who have run away from abusive relationships. These include young girls forced into marriages. Such forced marriage often ends in a life of indentured servitude accompanied by brutal conditions.

  And therein lies the problem. Yes, an organization such as Power for Women is free to conduct its work, but what is disheartening is that the need for such an organization exists. The fact that women are still being forced into marriage against their will, many at incredibly young ages. The inhumane treatment of Afghani women in general by those related to them. The lack of governmental recourse and interference in the face of this blatant abuse.

  In addition to providing shelter to needy women and girls, Power for Women promotes the role of women in government. Will women in the government change things? Will the presence of so many American and British men in the region interacting with the local men and spreading a more enlightened Western opinion toward women work to change the male attitude in Afghanistan? One can only hope, but like all things, any change will be slow, an evolution barely traceable over the short term, hopefully visible in the long run.

  Leaning back, Ryan drew in a long, slow breath. He couldn’t help but view Vicki in a different light after reading that. She wasn’t just a silly reporter who would more than likely get in their way if not get herself killed for the sake of a story. Vicki really did want to help, to make a difference in the lives of women who couldn’t help themselves.

  The door opened, startling Ryan. He jumped up guiltily from the chair as both Hawk and Wally came back in.

  Hawk glanced toward Ryan’s bunk. “Sleeping Beauty not up yet?”

  Ryan shook his head.

  “Well, my offer still stands. Feel free to put her in my bunk.” Wally waggled his eyebrows.

  Ryan frowned. “I don’t think so.”

  “So what the hell you gonna do?” Wally posed the next most logical question.

  “Hell if I know.” With a sigh, Ryan eyed the rack. He looked to his leader for an answer.

  Hawk, in the midst of pulling off his boots, glanced up. “I’d wake her the hell up and tell her to get out of my bed.”

  Ryan knew he would probably end up sleeping on the floor himself rather than kick Vicki out of his bed. The floor where vipers, spiders, rats and other assorted wildlife liked to scurry. He wasn’t afraid of them like Vicki was, but still, he shivered at the thought of sleeping down there among them when there was a perfectly good bunk that belonged to him.

  “I can’t tell her to get out, Hawk. I invited her to stay here.” He really didn’t want her pissed off at him. That wouldn’t exactly help him wiggle his way into her heart, or any of the other places he’d like to get into.

  “Then crawl in there with her. Maybe she’ll wake up, have a fit and leave on her own so you won’t have to kick her out.” Hawk didn’t bother to keep his voice low to avoid waking Vicki the way Ryan had.

  “But what about regulations?” Ryan would be damned if he’d get his butt in trouble for being a nice guy and just sharing his bed with a woman. He looked to Hawk for an answer.

  “Well, I just happen to be able to answer that question, Pettit. We recently had a very long and boring briefing on this very subject, in fact. In true military fashion, the commander of the joint task force signed a new order that amended the previous order. Now it reads about as clear as mud, but it states that while sexual contact is still highly discouraged for all personnel, and totally off-limits in certain circumstances depending on rank…”

  The words sexual contact put some pretty vivid images in Ryan’s tired yet overactive brain cells as Hawk continued to spew regulations at him. Ryan fought to catch up.

  “It does clearly state that males and females deployed in Afghanistan are allowed to visit each other’s sleeping quarters if all servicemen sharing those quarters agree and the door is kept open at all times. I have no objection to her being here as long as you promise to shut up and let me sleep. Wally? Any problem with her being here?”

  “Hell, no. I don’t mind. If I wasn’t so tired, I’d join you in that rack, Pettit.”

  Hawk shook his head at Wally’s perversion. “Good, we all agree then. And as far as the open door thing, since my rack is the one directly in front of the door and I have no intention of being a sniper target while trying to get some sleep after an all-night mission, as your superior I give you permission to have her in here with the door shut. Now go to sleep, Pettit.”<
br />
  Suddenly too tired to care anymore, Ryan gave up worrying and fighting. If his leader said Vicki could stay, then she’d stay. Hawk would be the one to suffer the consequences if he’d made the wrong call, not Ryan.

  Ryan was about to balance on his wobbly, swollen knee to take off his boots when he thought better of it. He sat in the desk chair instead and kicked off his already untied boots. After a moment’s hesitation, he took off his cammies too, pulled on PT shorts and a T-shirt and went to stand beside the bed.

  His pillow was under the blanket, lying lengthways along Vicki’s body as if she’d started the night hugging it and then rolled over in her sleep to face the wall instead. As gently as he could, Ryan pulled back the blanket, moved the pillow to the head of the bed and then crawled into the bunk next to Vicki, only to be immediately assaulted with sensations that spoke of the pure femaleness of her.

  The bunk seemed much smaller than Ryan remembered, so much smaller than it seemed without a woman in it. In the tight quarters of two sharing a bunk built for one, Ryan couldn’t escape the warmth of her body, the softness of her hair as it brushed his face, the scent of her skin, all sweet and womanly.

  He immediately regretted changing into the thin cotton shorts as his body reacted to her. Hell, he should have left his body armor on too. Maybe that would have offered them both some protection against Ryan’s uncontrollably strong attraction to her.

  Releasing a long, slow breath of frustration, he tried in vain to find a comfortable place to put his arms so he wouldn’t either touch Vicki or fall off the mattress. Finally, he gave up the pursuit of comfort, closed his eyes and succumbed to exhaustion.

  Chapter Nine

  Vicki crawled her way out of a deep, dreamless sleep. The kind of sleep you fall into when you’re bone-deep tired. As consciousness took over, she opened her eyes and tried to focus on the wall next to her. Without her contact lenses in, she was pretty much blind as a bat, but she did finally remember where she was even if she couldn’t exactly see.