My hair is coming in spikey and bright copper red. Weird. Tor likes it. He calls me Red now. I think I like Soot better though.
Our roles are reversed, as we tackle tsunamis and flooding. Now, it is water pouring out of control, destroying lives, homes, trees, and land.
We’ve figured out how to work well together. With me directing heat and flame and him manipulating the raging water as best he can, we try to direct its path. We learned from Hawaii. We work with nature and try to lead the destruction down a path of least resistance, away from people and settlements. It’s almost like we’re partnering with the might of earth herself, working with her, understanding her. Her rage complies and goes where we direct it … for the most part.
Over the next months into springtime, we fly to India, Indonesia, the Philippines, to Florida and the eastern coast, Puerto Rico and Granada, following the disasters that come and go through the seasons.
We don’t get to enjoy these exotic regions, however. All we see is tragedy, destruction, mud and debris, people crying and wailing. The worst of everywhere we go. We do not focus on them, however, but keep our minds on our task, on nature herself. There are other groups who care for the needy and perform rescues.
Our work is exhausting and rough. Often, we’re sleeping in tents and making do in precarious positions. Boot Camp prepared us well, especially with not getting much sleep.
We’re so tired we sleep on the plane or copter or whatever mode of transportation is provided at each leg of our journey.
Our small task force becomes a seamless unit. Tor and I follow orders and work together perfectly. We know each other’s moods, our strengths and weaknesses, our styles. With all the extreme dangers we face together, we’ve become close; partners.
***
A letter is waiting for me on my cot when I arrive back at the bunker in Fort Carson. We are on a much-needed break. It’s late March and the snow on the peaks is still thick, white, and beautiful.
Since our assignment has been classified as top secret, we don’t have to share a room with anyone else. Dr. Mara insisted that Tor and me not be separated. Saves us the hassle of finding each other’s room anyway and sneaking in.
Ash,
You and Tor still doing okay? They’ve told me that you and he are on special emergency missions. Cool that you’re doing something worthwhile. I bet it feels good helping all those people by putting your talents to use for the greater good. Wish I could do that, but my talents lay elsewhere.
Been chatting with Tage on and off. I think I’ll go see her on my next extended break. I think she’s lonely and struggling a bit.
I’m assuming that Torrent is also reading this. Hi Tor!
~ Smoke
“We are doing okay, right, Ash?”
Of course, I’m letting Tor read my letters from Smoke. I don’t want to hide anything from either of them. I’ve been working on sharing my feelings with Tor. He’s so easy to talk to, especially since we are with each other almost all of the time.
“Yeah, we are, Tor. I love hanging out, doing our jobs together. It’s like we both are on the same page. We complement each other. There isn’t anyone who I’d rather be with.” I frown. That’s not one hundred percent true. “I do wish Smoke and Tage were with us. But I know we’ll be seeing them soon. If I know Smoke, he’s got something up his sleeve.”
“I hope so. It’d be nice to be the four of us again. I miss them, too.” Tor swings his arm across my waist, pulling me back against his chest. “So, what do you think is up with those two? Think they’ll finally hook up?” He places his chin on my head.
“Not sure. I hope so. I know Tage would like it. She’s been in love with my brother since the three of us met. Smoke needs to take the blinders off and realize that she likes him.” I run my fingers along his arms. “Maybe he’s finally taking the steps there. I don’t want to pressure him about it, but I think Tage will be good for him. She’ll balance him out like he does to me.” I tilt my head up to look in Tor’s eyes. “Like you balance me.”
Tor’s lips come crashing down onto mine. I turn in his arms and thread my fingers into his hair. He backs us up against the wall and kicks the door closed.
His right hand roams across my back, while his left is securing my waist, locking me in place. Like I’d want to be anywhere but here with him.
I pepper kisses down his jawline to his neck. I know he enjoys this because of the low moan that escapes from him.
We’ve only gotten to second base since the last time was just after my hospital stay and neither of us were of mental or physical condition to go any further. I feel as though now is the right time to really be with him. To show him the depths of my love. That we really are better than okay.
I lift his green army-issued T-shirt up and over his head. We break kissing for just a split second and then resume. He trails kisses along my shoulder.
My shirt is flung off. I pull on his belt, leading him back to the small bed. I bite my lip, trying to look seductive. I don’t know if I pull it off or not. I don’t think Tor cares. The heat in his blue eyes swirl like a storm. I know he wants this.
“Ashley, are you sure?”
My response is to unbuckle his pants and push his body down onto the cot. “Yes, Torrent, I’m sure.” I straddle his legs and lean down on his cool chest. I run my tongue along his mouth, then nibble on the lower lip.
He grabs my waist, holding me steady once again.
I’ve never had sex with anyone and knew that when I finally did, I’d want it to be with someone special. Tor is that guy for me. I know I love him, and he loves me. This just feels right.
***
Our three-week break is over, and we’re flying again. I’m a little confused, though, as we haven’t heard any briefings of another natural disaster. Where are we going?
I watch out the window as we fly for hours, passing over mountains and desert, past the west coast and over the blue, endless sea.
Tor is seated beside me, holding my hand. I squeeze it and smile up at him. God, he’s breathtakingly beautiful. That night we shared still plays in my mind. The gentle way he worshiped my body. I never knew that sex would be like that. It was the perfect release from the stress of our missions. Afterwards, I felt pure bliss. Still do.
I fall asleep with that same feeling, being loved by Tor, as we soar all night.
Next day we reach the deserts of Iraq.
What are we doing here?
We’re given no information. We join the army post, stretching out like a desert tent city.
“What do you think’s going on?” I ask Tor that evening.
He shrugs. “Must be some kind of disaster.”
“We’re in a war zone, Tor. There are no floods or forest fires here.”
Next morning, we’re taken by jeep over bumpy, lonely, dirt roads. We drive far into the sandy, rock hills. We stop near an open, brown field. Various oil wells are pumping and turning their compact machinery, dotted here and there across the flat plain. Private Johnson, a member of our unit, is driving, with Commander Riley beside him. Dr. Mara stays behind at the camp to complete paperwork.
“Okay listen up. This is a different mission. Special Ops.” Commander Riley’s voice has an edge to it. “This concerns mostly you, Private Warfield.” He looks at me. “We’re going to drive by each of these wells. I want you to ignite them. This is an order. We’re going to help end this war.”
What? Which war is that? I stare at the Commander. Start fires? I’ve never been given this kind of mission before. But I salute. I’m a soldier and these are my orders.
The open, growler jeep bumps over the field. Each oil rig we pass, I stand, bracing myself against the roller bar, as the vehicle slows. I quickly shoot a powerful stream of fire—enough to explode the well into a flaming giant torch, firing out of the ground.
We move fast, barely slowing enough at each mine. Tor is ready in case he needs to put out any wildfires, and he mans the M2HB machine g
un sticking up from the center of the jeep.
My aim and power are sure. Each machine is destroyed as flames lick the sky.
After an hour of igniting this area, we drive to another, then another. By the time we make our way back to the base, the air is full of thick, black smoke that smells of acrid, burning oil.
I shower before supper, washing off the sweat, dust, and smoke. Stripping off the feeling of this new kind of job, of pure destruction. I’m not sure how I feel about it. On the one hand, there’s an awesome surge of power every time I blow up one of those abandoned suckers. It makes me laugh, sometimes, especially the first few I hit.
On the other hand, is this what we’re doing now?
I am a soldier. I realize war is what I signed up for. But we’d gotten so used to playing the heroes. This is something different. A different kind of hero …
The next day we fly to another part of the country, or maybe it’s neighboring Iran. I’m not sure, and I’m not told.
We go from oil field to oil field, from rig to rig, alighting vast areas in black smoke and flame. In some places the dry, sparse grass ignites, shooting low fires across the plains like racing sparklers. Tor is told to let them burn.
Every day we go to a new region, a new desert, and maybe new countries. It seems we’re setting the whole Middle East on fire.
We’re almost done with another oil plain when a mass of jeeps, military vehicles, and tanks converge, giving chase. We’re in our light growler. We hightail it out of there, but they are close behind. Shells and gunfire pelt us as we try to get out of range. Tor leans me down into the seat, protecting me. We’re in the midst of the raging battle.
A deafening explosion hits the ground near our tires, flying us round and round. The world tumbles and spins, fire and smoke everywhere, and the rocky ground crashes into my head.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Dazed, I get up. Tor is instantly at my side, checking that I’m okay. My body is trembling. Those fuckers just tried to blow us up.
Commander Riley is brushing himself off, staying low, and looking around. “Quick, behind the jeep now,” he shouts.
We scramble and scrape to the cover of our jeep, lurched on its side in a rut. The two right-hand wheels turn in the air. Private Johnson is smashed beneath the vehicle. His arm sticks out, blood oozing into the dirt.
The gunfire rattles again, louder than thunder. We huddle down, prepare our weapons, and return shots.
The many vehicles are drawing close. They stop, and Middle Eastern soldiers jump out, seeking cover, making their slow way to us, shooting.
“Hold your fire,” Riley commands. We watch, covered in sweaty dirt, as they make their way closer, dodging from ridge to rock to shallow earth indentations, seeking cover as they come. When a group reaches a ridge twenty feet away, Riley barks his order. “Now, Warfield! Fire them up!”
I startle, hesitate. Does he mean what I think he means?
“That’s an order, Private! This is a necessary evil. Kill them, we’ll cover you.”
I jump slightly.
“Warfield.”
“I can’t—”
“If you don’t, we’ll be dead. Is that what you want?” Riley glances at the advancing men, then turns to face me. His nose is inches from mine. “Do it, soldier!”
I glance at Tor. He shakes his head. But my training shifts into place as a bullet grazes my head. I lean around our jeep, Riley and the others shooting cover fire, and blast a laser of flame at the soldiers, at their vehicles, at anything that will catch fire. I must keep everyone safe. It’s us or them, and I’d rather be still breathing after this.
Roaring sounds as fires leap up. Men run screaming, their bodies engulfed in hungry, orange flames. I leave my unit to set more things alight, as Riley directs our squad’s gunfire to the ones still shooting at us.
Bushes and dry grass spring into crackling, orange blazes. I lean out again from behind the building I’m crouched by and target the gas tanks of the enemy’s vehicles. These past few days have sharpened my aim. Each one explodes when I hit it just right, blasting orange and black into the air.
The power of destruction overflows me, filling me with a high and an energy like I’ve never known. I laugh out loud, giddy.
Torrent looks at me sharply, a concerned look in his eyes. “You okay, Red?” He shouts over the rattling gunfire, explosions and roaring flames.
“Better than ever,” I yell back. Slanting out again, not even seeing any new marks, I shoot a blast of fire out of my left hand, then my right, back and forth, letting the flares blaze wherever they will. Adrenaline rushes through me, the excitement of danger, of battle, of power, of winning.
This is fucking awesome.
“That’s enough, Private,” barks Riley over the thundering fires. I don’t want to stop. I keep shooting flames. He waves me to join him again and then puts his hand on my shoulder. I continue tossing fireballs as I run back to the jeep. “That’s enough!” he shouts.
I lean behind the jeep, breathing hard, elated. We’ve done it. I’ve done it. Something takes over my body. I can’t stop but know I must. Am I really enjoying this destruction?
Charred, blackened bodies lie over the land, some moaning, their vehicles burning, exploded, or overturned. Riley calls a copter on his radio. We check that the coast is clear before walking among the debris and corpses for anything of value, or information of any kind.
Half an hour later, the copter returns us to base.
I smile as I shower.
This is great—I love being a soldier. I’m ready for more.
“You went a little overboard back there, Ash.” Torrent looks serious over our fancy dinner of crab legs and freshly tossed salad. Meals here in the desert remind me of a resort, with so many fancy-ass choices. This is not a bad way to dine.
“I can’t describe it, Tor.” I set my fork down and inspect my hands. “There’s amazing power in setting things on fire. I think it’s what I was made to do. Not holding back, letting it out to do what it’s supposed to do.”
“Ash, you killed men. Have you killed anyone before?” I shake my head. Sure, I’m sorry that they’re gone. I don’t know them. They don’t know me. “Are you okay?”
“It’s what we do, Tor. We’re soldiers. This is war.” He’s irritating me. I grab a buttery roll and leave. He doesn’t get it. I’d rather be alone.
On my cot, I toss a little ball of fire back and forth between my palms. A peaceful feeling washes over me.
This is right. This is what I’m supposed to do. Fire is about destruction, after all …
Chapter Thirty-Three
My aim has gotten so precise I can blast a single enemy soldier from thirty feet away or shoot a line of fire across an entire ridge, setting them all ablaze. Riley moves our force here and there. Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, wherever the fighting is most dire. I could care less where we go. With my power, I can break through their lines, blow up their sandstone buildings, their bases, their tents, and old, patched vehicles.
When I shoot a blast right under a tank, I can tip it over, rendering it useless. Then I set the soldiers on fire when they exit the armored shell. There isn’t any hesitation in my actions.
I’m a killing machine. I’m the army’s secret weapon. I’m making a difference in this war. I’m a true soldier now. There’s no questioning my superiors.
Each morning, Commander Riley uses the map to brief us on where we’re going, giving the barest of details about our mission. Today we’re looking at a small village a hundred kilometers away.
“The enemy, anyone who isn’t us, has holed up in this little village.” Riley points to it on the map. “We’re going to set the whole place on fire.” His tone is serious.
Torrent looks at me, alarm on his face. “The whole village?” He asks, speaking out of turn. “Ash, you can’t.”
I remember a question Tor asked me last night. Am I okay with this? The killing? We’ve gotten a little distant with eac
h other since Hawaii. But his question nags me.
“Commander, are there civilians in this village? Women, children, the elderly?” I ask.
Riley nods. “There are bound to be a few. This is what these bastards do. They set up their military bases right in the middle of their own people, thinking we won’t attack. Using them as a shield. But no more. It’s a small village. They’re the ones who have risked those peoples’ lives.”
I look at Tor and then to my commander. “You want me to fire the whole village, then, every home? I don’t think I can—”
“Those are your orders, Private Warfield. Every home, every farm field, every vehicle. Of course, if you see civilians, leave them be. Kill any young men, though, they are soldiers disguised as civilians. Leave the women, any children under ten, and the elderly.” Riley holds my gaze, not letting me question my standing orders.
I nod.
This is my job.
Tor grabs my arm as we file out and walk toward our vehicles – a line of tan, armored cougars with a V-shaped hull. They are big, overburdened trucks. “Ash, you can’t really be serious,” he begins. “What about all those people? They’re innocent.”
“You heard him, Tor, I’m not going to directly attack the civies. Just the soldiers, their buildings, and cars.”
“And all the villagers’ homes, their gardens. They depend on those, you know. You’re sentencing them all to death, even if you don’t touch them. And what of the people in the buildings you bring down?”
“Leave me alone, Tor, you heard Riley. We have our orders.”
“No, Ash, you have your orders. I can’t be part of this.” He turns his back to me.
I move ahead, I don’t want to hear any more arguments. It’s all he talks about lately. How I’ve changed, just because I’m finally a real soldier.
He’s a soldier, too, doesn’t he get it?
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