Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Jen

T he smell of a hot grill and cooking meat hit us as we walked through the door to the chow hall. It was the next day, lunch time. We had our After-Action Review meeting for the previous night's mission in about thirty minutes, which was plenty enough time for us to get some food and not have to deal with hungry, grumbling pilots during the meeting. I wasn't looking forward to it, after seeing how bad things could have gone. I had to do it, I needed to know how to make things better. I certainly hadn't helped matters by losing my shit on Sheppard after he'd stood up for me with the Colonel.

On the walk up to the chow hall I tried to recount with Laura what happened. "He got right in my face and was like, ‘you and your crew belong to me.'"

"Ha! Yeah, he's very protective of his people, and just a touch possessive." She looked at me, daring me to admit what we both knew. His possessiveness was hot.

To my surprise, Laura didn't call me on it, instead she pressed on about the rest of our argument. "Did you try to play the woman card with him?"

" Woman card! You seriously think he would have spoken to a man the way he spoke to me?" I shot back at her.

"Of course not," she said. I straightened up, feeling victorious. "No Honey, if you were a man he would have put his fist through your face for that bullshit you pulled. He must like you. Maybe he's already decided that you belong to him."

Bitch.

She winked at me. I could feel my cheeks redden from blushing at the thought. My mouth gaped, trying to come up with some retort, but Laura just turned and continued on, grabbing a tray. She got in line and started inspecting what food would be ready for us. It was clear this conversation was over.

"Oh my God, they have gyros today!" Laura screeched, shoving her way to the grill. One of the better kept secrets about deployment is that the Army goes all out for food. There's a made to order grill in nearly every chow hall that has a different theme daily. I strolled over to her and decided that gyros sounded good. Stepping in behind her, I shook my head in bewilderment.

Her words were still running through my mind. Had Sheppard really taken it easy on me because I was a woman? I doubted it. He seemed like the type to hold anyone accountable. Was he really claiming me? That thought should make me angry, but I had to suppress a smile at the idea.

Laura glanced at me over her shoulder and gave me a sly smile. "Aren't you excited to get some Greek meat in your mouth?"

I rolled my eyes at her while biting back a grin at her joke. She just couldn't help herself. I wasn't nearly as enthused as Laura was, but I wasn't about to pass them up. Shoving the conversation we'd had out of my mind, I picked up a tray. I'd think more about it later, when I was alone. There was too much going on in the chow hall to concentrate.

We got our food and started looking for a table. We found some open seats, and as my luck would have it, it was next to Sheppard and his guys. My heart gave a nervous flutter, though my brain was already annoyed. There was no logical reason this man affected me like this. Being attracted to him made sense—he was a good looking man. It was the instant irritation he brought to the surface within me at one glance that was the problem. Why did I want to argue with him? It kept me off balance and I didn't care for it.

They were talking with someone I hadn't seen before. His uniform was different, Navy, but in camouflage. I inspected the patches and tags, he was a Navy Seal. His name tag said Barrett. I knew there was a detachment of Seals on the base, it shouldn't surprise me to find the Apache guys being friendly with them. This Seal was an E-5, an enlisted man, Petty Officer Second Class was his rank. He was a fighter, not an officer.

Laura waggled her eyes at me and sat down next to them, leaving the seat across from Sheppard open. I sighed internally and followed her. We squeezed in the empty spots on the bench in between men. My shoulder brushed against one of Sheppard's crew, but he and the Seal had caught my attention.

"I know you've been there, Chief. You try explaining to these people that you don't just switch it off. You don't go from seeing shit-heads daily to seeing normal people, right? And everyone you talk to out there is a liar, and you know that it's going to end in a fight, but you can't just take him out right there. You have to wait on him to make a move. One that could get you, or your men, killed. Then there's the kids, any one of them could pull a gun, who wants to fight kids? And that waiting. Fuck. You know?" Petty Officer Barrett looked around the table at all of us. His pale blue eyes met mine, searching to see if I understood what he was saying. The Apache guys were nodding, but stayed silent. He seemed to be in the middle of a pretty long rant and they let him continue.

I decided to offer an olive branch. "You boys trading war stories?" I asked Sheppard with a small smile. The look he shot me was so intense that I felt it in my chest. It nearly knocked me out of my seat. I've never been told to shut my mouth so clearly as Sheppard did by just looking at me.

Petty Officer Barrett didn't seem to notice and kept rambling on, more or less to the same theme. I studied him for a minute. He looked awfully young to be a Navy Seal. I didn't know if they had an age requirement before trying out, but if they did he barely made it. He looked to be barely twenty, but maybe he had a young face.

Sheppard didn't interrupt him, he just listened and threw in the occasional, "No, shit" and, "You're right, someone who isn't in uniform doesn't get it. The staff officers certainly won't ever get it. Assholes."

I looked at Laura and she, shook her head with a slight ‘no', telling me now was not the time for small talk. I'd never seen her so serious. I ate my gyro and decided to get out of there. Clearly, this wasn't a conversation for MEDEVAC. I was one of those who helped the wounded. I didn't typically shoot at our enemies. Not that I wouldn't, but I wasn't likely to be in that position.

"I'll see you at the After-Action Review," I said, as Laura and I stood up. Sheppard glanced at me briefly, then turned to Brady and Artie and nodded. They stood up and headed for the door, giving me a look that said to follow them. I did, wondering what was going on. Sheppard just kept talking with the Seal.

Once we were outside, Brady slowed and let us catch up. "Shep's not joining us for the meeting. No worries though, I have all his notes ready."

"Really? Seems like reviewing last night is more important than trading war stories." It came off more callous than I had intended, but I was annoyed. It was quickly becoming my constant state of mind where Sheppard was concerned.

Brady looked at me with narrowed eyes, which was something to see. He walked around here with an intensity I'd rarely seen before, but the glare he was giving me made my breath catch in my throat. His eyes were uber focused, like he was trying to read my soul. "You don't know too much about men do you, Captain?"

Laura snorted. "She doesn't know a damn thing. She barely knows which end goes where."

I snapped my head toward her and glared. There were times I wondered whose side she was on. It wasn't an easy position for her, though. I was her friend, but these were her crew. The men she worked with, and I was sure they were her friends as well.

"You'd better listen to the man, Hun. The Army never prepared you for reality."

I wasn't sure what she meant, but stamped down the anger trying to rise. If they were going to help me understand what was going on, who was I to interrupt? I turned back to Brady.

He was looking in my direction, but it was as though he no longer saw me standing there. "We're not born with all the talking and feelings and shit. We don't really know how to communicate the bad stuff. Sometimes, shit happens. Bad shit. You get attacked. You're in the middle of a fight and shit's getting real. Savage shit. And it freaks you out ‘cause you ain't seen fuck all like it before.

It's scary ‘cause it turns out you're the one doing the savage shit. You don't want to be like that, but, if you're not, your friends die. It has a way of winding a man up. And then…and then, you find yourself wound too tight, with no idea how you got that way or how to safely undo it. Then you start to get nervous, like... real nervous. ‘Cause you see it every day. You see yourself and that feeling starts creeping in. And you don't know how to stop it. And you really need to stop it because who knows what you'll do if you can't."

I didn't say anything. Mostly I was confused, but I didn't interrupt. This was the most serious I had seen Brady, or any of the Apache guys act. Laura and Artie were silent, but their silence screamed that they agreed one-hundred percent with what Brady was saying. He was always intense—doing everything at one-hundred-and-fifty percent, but he was usually laughing and joking around. Not this time. He was watching me with a calm, steady gaze. This was important.

He continued, "Then, maybe you get lucky. You get a chance. You see someone with the same expression. And believe me, you know that look. You see him, and you recognize him right away. ‘Cause he's just like you. Only, he's smiling. He's sitting with his friends and talking. He's not wound tight like you, but he was at some point. Once you get like that, you recognize it.

So, you sit with him. And you just say something stupid. Something easy like, ‘Man, what a shitty day'. Then, when he looks at you, and he doesn't one up you, you know he recognizes what you're feeling. That little light of hope grows when he just says, ‘Yeah?' And you don't know what to do really, ‘cause he's listening, and no one has ever listened before. So, you casually mention that something shitty happened. That someone got killed, or hurt, or something."

Brady had stopped walking now, so we stopped with him. "What you say doesn't matter, cause this dude is just listening. Not interrupting, not talking over you, just listening. Before you know it, an hour has passed by and you're not wound so tight. You're relaxed for once. Then you realize that maybe I should do this more often. The talking thing. ‘Cause this guy, he even mentioned that from time to time he talks with the Chaplin, or someone professional and that sounds like maybe it could help. Like something that could relieve the pressure and the pain. And then maybe this guy that was wound so tight that he might snap, doesn't. He doesn't lose it and do something he can never take back."

Brady stopped staring off into the distance and focused on me again. I didn't say anything, hanging onto every word he spoke. "Anyway, that dude in there, he's close. Real close. Shep has an eye for that type. You can bet your ass he's not going anywhere until that dude is settled down. Who the fuck cares about some meeting when you have something that's actually important? The Colonel won't even ask. He knows what's important. Rare trait among officers these days."

Actually important. My heart sank. Here I was shooting my mouth off, pissy about Sheppard and my screw up last night. I was so focused on myself that I couldn't see what was going on around me. Sheppard was right, I did have a chip on my shoulder, and it was blinding me to reality.

I hadn't picked up on the fact that the man who'd been talking to Sheppard had been desperate to be heard. To be seen. To stop what he might do to himself if he couldn't figure out a way to release the emotions he was bottling up inside. He looked so young to be carrying such a burden. No wonder he was, in his way, screaming for help. There was so much to learn about being out here. To learn what was actually important.

Laura read my thoughts, she put a hand on my shoulder, "The Army didn't train you for this. They barely even know it's a problem. You wanna know why we despise staff officers so much? It's because of this. How many mandatory feel-good trainings do we have every year, yet not once has this been mentioned? How many good men and women do we lose every year because no one knows what to look for, or how to help them when they're at their lowest? The only class you will ever get for this is from men like Sheppard. They're the people who understand and can help others, because they've been in their shoes."

Warmth filled my chest as I followed the others into the meeting. It was impressive that Sheppard took the time to talk guys down off the ledge like that. Brady was right, you didn't see that very often. It made me wonder what he had in his past that made him connect with these military members. That he could understand what different branches of service went through meant that this was a fundamental problem that affected everyone serving.

I itched to know more about Sheppard even while I tried to tell myself it didn't matter, that I shouldn't allow myself to know him, or get close to him in any way. I could tell myself that all day long. No chance I would believe it. Not when everything I learned about the man made me respect him that much more.