Mission

by Amy Andrews

  Now that the initial lifesaving stuff that they’d done in the first days and weeks of the disaster had been dealt with, a backlog of non-urgent tests had to be cleared. Not to mention the research he had been carrying out to monitor mosquito populations and test the effectiveness of the eradication plan he had spearheaded on his arrival in Tanrami.

  Looking out at the sea of faces he could tell he wasn’t going to hold their attention for long. They looked hot. And bored. Two major stumbling blocks to retention of information. He decided to ignore his notes and instead talk to them about his project. At least it was interesting and still managed to educate them about the dangers of malaria.

  The speaker opened his mouth and uttered some words of introduction. Holly’s eyes flew open. She’d know that voice anywhere. She’d dreamt about it and its owner so often in the last two years its timbre was instantly recognisable. It was Richard!

  Suddenly the heat didn’t matter, or the hours of boring talks—nothing mattered. Her eyes sought his face and drank the sight of him in greedily. She sat a little straighter. He’d changed. Even sitting right at the back she could see the differences.

  He seemed harder somehow. Leaner. The grey streaking his hair more noticeable. The planes and angles of his face more pronounced. The way he held himself, more erect. Dressed in his uniform, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes, he looked completely without emotion. Like a machine. A military robot.

  Sure, he’d always looked tough and forebidding but it was more than that now. His camouflage fitted him superbly, the red cross stitched to his shoulder denoting his status as a medic. His body seemed even more honed than previously. The uniform had always been a huge turn-on but today it seemed to create distance rather than invite her to touch. With his eyes shaded by reflective lenses, he epitomised the military image. From the way he carried himself to the authority in his deep voice, it screamed soldier.

  He looked so…alone. So untouchable. What had happened in two years to make him appear even more unreachable than before? Holly felt her traitorous heart pick up its tempo.

  Oh, no. No way! She was well and truly over Richard. She wasn’t going down that track again. Particularly not with the new Richard. The old one had been hard enough to love. Her days of beating her head against a brick wall were over.

  Still, the urge to call out to him, to have him look at her and fix her with one of those ‘hey, babe’ smiles was almost overwhelming. She shimmied down in her chair. She would not do that. She was here to help, not rekindle a relationship with someone who’d always been a bit of an unwilling partner in the first place.

  And something told her he’d be none too impressed with her presence. It was best to just sit quietly and unobtrusively and sneak away at the end. After all Tanrami was a big place. There was no reason to think that they’d even cross paths. She should be able to finish her three-month stint without him even knowing she was here.

  He talked on, oblivious to her turmoil. About his research and collecting specimens and the data he’d amassed about the mosquito populations in Tanrami. Also about malaria and its symptoms and treatment and the importance of taking prophylactic medication. The silky timbre of his voice slid over her skin and she was reminded of the times when he had laughed and teased. Looking at him today, she wondered if those times had actually happened or if she’d merely dreamt them.

  Someone in front of her raised their hand and Holly tuned back into the content. She realised for the first time since sitting down with her fellow volunteers over two hours ago that they actually seemed interested in what the speaker was saying. Richard had engaged them which had been a big ask after hours of information delivered in a way that made it as interesting as watching paint dry.

  ‘Yes, potentially specimen collecting is dangerous but probably more so out in the villages than in Abeil,’ said Richard in answer to the question Holly hadn’t paid any attention to. ‘Most of my earlier work involved the villages further away and required more stringent security measures, but in and around Abeil I generally go out by myself. Enemy forces are more likely to be a problem in the less-populated areas.’

  Enemy forces? OK, enough already. Holly sat up a bit more. She’d sat through a whole morning of lectures about the protracted civil war and the bias was appalling. She felt her hackles rise further. Not Richard, too! Richard who, despite being a soldier, had always had a moderate, almost philosophical view of the world. It looked like more than just his physical appearance had changed. What had happened to him?

  ‘Enemy forces? That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?’

  Everyone turned and looked at her and she realised that she must have spoken aloud. Oh, crap! So much for being unobtrusive!

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Richard, pausing in mid-sentence and removing his shades. ‘What do you mean?’ He searched the back rows to locate the identity of the voice. It had been a while but its familiarity was ringing bells. Surely not?

  As people in front and beside her parted he pierced her with a direct look from his black eyes and all her thoughts and feelings on the subject fled. Wow! She’d forgotten how impressive his eyes were! If nothing else, at least she had forced him to remove those damn sunglasses. She saw his eyes narrow as a flash of recognition streaked through them and then a very subtle flinch as his jaw clenched.

  Oh, hell! Holly. Pollyanna was sitting in an army tent in Tanrami being briefed by him. What the hell was she doing in the middle of a disaster zone? Holly of the ‘between things’ fame. He remembered how harsh and dismissive he had been of her the last time he had seen her and couldn’t believe she’d turned up here.

  Silly girl! Didn’t she realise these situations involved a lot of hard work and were potentially dangerous? That they weren’t places you could come and play for a while as you flitted through life? That you saw things which could be traumatic and damaging?

  ‘I mean that just because they hold different views from the general establishment, it doesn’t make them the enemy.’ She realised everyone was waiting for an answer and she managed to find her voice, swallowing to moisten her suddenly dry mouth.

  Her voice was the same as he remembered. High with a sweet girly lilt. It was fresh and full of promise and…flirty. He remembered her saying she’d sleep with him because he was the sexiest man she had ever met and felt the familiar pull in his groin.

  He suppressed the urge and focused on what she’d said, not how she’d said it. She was more Pollyanna-like than he’d given her credit for. Was she really that naïve? People who chose armed rebellion and took advantage of the chaos wreaked upon them by one of the world’s worst natural disasters to further their cause were dangerous.

  ‘Maybe not. But it does make them dangerous and not to be underestimated,’ he said bluntly, placing his sunglasses back on his face.

  He had retreated again. The machine was back and Holly was more than aware of the meaning behind his actions. Me soldier. You civilian. Me right. You wrong. How often had he taken that tone with her? Could she goad him back out of his glasses? ‘Or maybe it just makes them misunderstood?’

  Richard assessed her from behind his lenses. He didn’t have the time or the inclination to go into the decades-old history of the civil war that had ravaged and held Tanrami back for too many years. A war older than Holly herself. All he knew for sure was the rebels were shaping up to be more of a menace than any of the international forces now stationed in Tanrami had bargained for.

  Between hostage taking, stealing aid parcels meant for the poorest villages and hampering attempts to reach the most sick and injured, the forces had their collective hands full. Worse still was the nuisance of their landmines planted decades before and displaced by the massive storm surges that had swamped the area when Rex had hit during a king tide.

  And Holly had just put herself amongst it. He felt the familiar urge to protect her rush through him and wondered how he was ever going to rest easy with her being so close.

  ‘There are more effecti
ve ways to further your cause than armed conflict.’

  ‘I agree,’ she said, trying to stare him down despite the glasses. ‘But when the other ways don’t work, I guess they’re left with little choice.’

  He had underestimated her naïvety. His view of her as young and impulsive was confirmed. In true Pollyanna style she had added two and two together and come up with five. Even now at twenty-five she was seriously misguided.

  ‘There is always a choice.’

  She felt her stare being returned even though she couldn’t see it, and quashed her dismay. Had he become some kind of military hard-liner? Or, worse, a mindless drone who accepted whatever his superiors fed him?

  No. She refused to believe Richard didn’t have a mind of his own. He had always been strong and sure and decisive. He’d never dithered or sought permission from anyone. Blind loyalty just wasn’t him.

  ‘Anyway…I think we’ve got ourselves off track,’ said Richard.

  He continued for a while longer and Holly was relieved to lose the attention of everyone else in the tent. She shook herself mentally. He was entitled to his opinion but it rankled and his obvious dismissal of hers found her in the midst of familiar emotions. How many times had she battled the fifteen-year age gap? Battled Richard’s ingrained opinion that she was a mere child?

  Holly stood at the end of Richard’s talk, grateful that the briefing was over and they could finally go to their allocated jobs. Seeing Richard had been a complication she hadn’t bargained on and the inequity that had existed in their relationship seemed even more glaring with two years’ distance.

  Refreshments were served in the tent and army personnel mingled with the new recruits. Richard made his excuses and slipped out. He had work to do and didn’t have time to play benign soldier today. And seeing Holly again had disturbed him more than he wanted to admit.

  From the moment she had burst into his life she’d always been difficult to ignore. How was he going to concentrate on his job knowing she was so near? Knowing she’d signed up for a dangerous role? He had to leave now before he sought her out and insisted she go home. She was a big girl and it was none of his business.

  He rounded a corner and ploughed straight into her. They apologised simultaneously as they disentangled themselves.

  ‘Richard.’

  Her voice floated towards him and he felt the same grab in his groin as before. ‘Holly.’

  There was silence for a few moments while they looked at each other. Their history faded from her mind as she took him in. Up close the changes were more evident. His hair had greyed considerably. There were frown lines on his forehead and around his mouth and a shuttered look to his eyes. It took someone who knew him intimately to see past the barriers. To see the damaged soul.

  How was it was at all possible that with all these negative changes he was sexier than ever? His nearness reminding her of why she’d been so attracted to him. The solid broadness of his chest told her he was all man. Her previous boyfriends had paled in comparison. They had been mere boys.

  ‘What are you doing here, Holly? It’s dangerous.’ Maybe he could make her see sense.

  ‘I can handle it,’ she said quietly.

  ‘I thought you were between things? You should be out enjoying life. That’s what young people are supposed to do. Not risking your pretty neck in a disaster zone.’

  ‘A lot’s happened in two years, Richard. I came to help. I need to help.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Holly. Tanrami has plenty of helpers. Go be young while you can. Travel, buy nice clothes, sleep with lots of men—’

  ‘I already own nice clothes,’ she interrupted, dismayed that he was still treating her as a child. ‘And if this isn’t travelling then I don’t know what is. As for sleeping with men, well, I think I’ve definitely come to the right place.’ She couldn’t help but goad him. ‘Can’t go wrong with five hundred soldiers just up the road.’

  Richard scowled at her, appalled by the idea.

  ‘Holly, you could see things here that are really very unpleasant. You’re too young, too…happy. Go home before it damages you.’ He couldn’t bear the thought of her becoming jaded and cynical. Like him.

  ‘I’m a nurse, Richard. I think I’ve already seen my share of unpleasant. And, besides, I think the Tanramans could probably do with a bit of happy.’

  ‘I’m serious, Holly. This isn’t a place you come to find yourself.’

  Holly tried not to flinch as his blunt words fell between them. ‘I’ve come to help, not to find myself. I’ve come to make a difference.’

  She brushed past him, the moisture dewing her eyes a good match for the humidity. She had to get away from him. Her joy at seeing him again was suddenly crashing down all around her.

  ‘Holly,’ he called after her, immediately sorry for his harshness. She turned to face him and he was proud of the brave front he could see she was putting on. ‘I’m sorry…it’s just that you’re too…’

  ‘Young. Yeah, so you said.’ And with as much dignity as she could muster, she turned on her heel and left him standing by himself.

  Holly bustled through the back streets, cursing the heat and humidity. She felt the sweat trickle between her breasts and run down her abdomen. It was hot, it was humid and the air was rancid with months of waterlogged, decaying rubbish. All it needed now was to rain and her day would be complete, she thought. A warm, fat drop of water fell from the sky onto her face. Right on cue.

  Walking around the devastated capital, she could see there was still so much to be done. Abeil, sitting right on the coast, had been a sitting duck for the fury of nature. Half of the city had been swamped and flattened by the massive storm surges that had thrown a good deal of the ocean at the city’s primitive infrastructures.

  Much had been accomplished in the time since. Rebuilding had begun but there was so much that remained to do. Large areas of debris in outlying areas had still not been cleared and bodies were still being found. Many had perished. Many more had died since as a result of disease, starvation and homelessness. And many children had been orphaned.

  Which was why Holly was walking the streets of Abeil. She’d only been here for a fortnight but knew the routine backwards. Every morning two of the orphanage workers would walk into what remained of the old city of Abeil, follow an established route and pick up any orphaned children at designated checkpoints.

  The locals knew the system and would be waiting for them along the way. Initially there had been many but the numbers had slowed to a trickle. A few times Holly had completed the two-hour journey empty-handed but on one occasion she had felt like the Pied Piper, a scraggly bunch of urchins trailing behind her.

  Holly had separated from Glenda, one of the other aid workers, as they always did, to help shorten the route. She would meet up with her again at the ruins of the old Catholic church where they would continue for another half an hour before walking back to the orphanage.

  But for now, as a tropical downpour appeared from the sky as if someone up there had flipped a switch, Holly sought shelter in an alley where the rickety construction of houses on both sides caused them to lean towards each other, reducing the torrent of rain from the heavens. She found a doorway to shrink even further into and managed to stay reasonably dry.

  It wasn’t such a bad position actually, she thought as she listened to the rain beat down on the tin roofs all around her. The noise was deafening, like a million drummers striking their instruments simultaneously. A breeze blew down the alley and her nostrils filled with the earthy smell of rain hitting dirt.

  It was amazing how much the precipitation relieved the heated atmosphere and Holly revelled in the cool air on her face. It felt so good she was almost tempted to strip off her clothes and stand in the rain in her bra and knickers. Almost.

  She pulled her baseball cap off, held it out, allowing it to half fill with water and plonking it back on her head. The water drenched her short fine hair, cascaded down her face, neck and shoulde
rs and soaked into the fabric of her long-sleeved T-shirt. She looked down at the wet patch spreading from her neckline to her waist and sighed blissfully as the water cooled the sweaty skin beneath.

  As quickly as it had begun, the rain ended, and Holly waited until she could no longer hear any pattering before she stepped out of the doorway. A noise further down the alley caught her attention and curious, she went to investigate. Maybe it was a child—lost and frightened and alone.

  Like so many of the residential streets that made up Abeil, one alley led to another which led to another. The back streets were a maze of dingy alleys and dirt tracks formed around a mish-mash of lean-tos, huts and baked mud shelters.

  She could hear voices now, muffled and speaking in the native tongue. She rounded a corner and stopped abruptly. The noises weren’t coming from hungry children searching for food. They were coming from a gang of four boys who looked no older than fifteen. They appeared to be kicking at something on the ground.

  It was a person! The inert form lay still as the youths continued their assault, oblivious to her presence. Holly felt temporarily paralysed as her mind tried to compute what her eyes were seeing. Her heart beat was loud in her ears. She felt sick listening to the dull thud of boots striking flesh. And scared and angry. They had to stop.

  She strode forward on shaking legs, summoning the courage to help. She couldn’t just stand there and let them kick a defenceless human being. She moved into the fray and felt her heart slam in her chest and hoped she could pull it off. Hoped they couldn’t tell she was scared out of her mind.

  ‘Stop that,’ she said, advancing toward the scuffle. ‘Stop it right now,’ she demanded.

  The youths stopped and turned to face her. A tall one with greasy hair and bad acne took a couple of paces towards her. He appeared to be the ringleader. After a few seconds he started to laugh. His mates joined him, a little hesitantly.

  Holly felt chilled by their callousness. She didn’t know the circumstances of what had gone on here in the alley and she didn’t care, there were no excuses for such cruelty. Holly could now see it was a man on the ground and he still hadn’t moved. Was he dead? The nurse in her demanded that she help him but the female was more than a little frightened of these brash, callous young men.