Chapter 3

3

SCARLETT

S how time.

Waving them over, her squad trudged through the snow to huddle around.

"From here, we are on our own. No talking unless necessary. This is a stealth mission. If we're spotted our information will be useless. Stay out of sight, low to the ground."

Once they had neared the edge of the outlook, Scarlett dropped to the ground, her white camouflage now hopefully obscuring her movements if the insurgents had surveillance.

Crawling through the ice and snow was difficult, the still-dropping ice shards complicating it even further.

Scarlett reached the edge of the outcrop; she could just about make out some dotted figures milling around in the distance.

So, they are here then.

Slowly, carefully she pulled her binoculars from her pack and zoomed in on them.. Tents littered the valley with the largest encircled by smaller ones in the center of the encampment. Insurgents wandered in and out of the tents, each one armed with an assault rifle. Snow mobiles patrolled the edges of the valley, packed with even more militants. Next to her, Scarlett could hear Private Lance muttering under his breath, counting the number of insurgents present at the camp—or at least all the ones he could see.

Scarlett slipped her binoculars back into her pack and pulled out the camera. Moving as little as possible, she photographed the insurgent camp. The central tent, the snow mobiles on patrol, the soldiers wandering about. Anything she could see was captured. Lance stopped muttering; he must have completed his count. Scarlett glanced at her watch. They didn't have much time until the storm hit.

Discreetly gesturing to her troops, she signaled their retreat.

"Good work, squad. The intelligence we've gathered today will go a long way to help command. Time to head out. We don't want to risk getting stranded out here when the storm hits."

Scarlett had plenty of time to think once they reached the cliffs again. Being the lightest of their squad, she would descend last, clearing the screws and making sure the only evidence of their ever being there were merely two holes in the ice where they tied their anchor.

She watched as the last private backed up over the cliff and waited for the signal to begin her own descent. Being the last, she wouldn't have the peace of mind that the anchor was backed up by screws; she would have to trust the ice and her squad mates below to keep her from falling.

"All clear, Captain."

Scarlett had never been overly fond of abseiling. Going up was fine, but she wasn't in control if something went wrong while rappelling down. She noticed clouds darkening in the distance and knew she couldn't delay. If they were still at the base of the cliff when the storm began, they ran the risk of the ice collapsing on them.

Clipping the screws onto her belt, Scarlett tugged hard on the anchor; it didn't budge.

Thank god.

Eyes closed, she backed over the edge, letting out an unsteady breath. Willing her heart to slow its frantic beating, she began making her way down the cliff. Steadily, one foot then the other, not looking down as she went.

After what felt like an eon, her feet hit solid ground.

Thank fuck that was over.

She pulled the last of the rope through the drilled anchor, watching it tumble toward them.

"Rope!"

She could hear the young privates chattering away behind her again as they made their way back across the snowfield. She didn't mind; they had done well today.

She grabbed her radio. "Come in, command."

"Go ahead, Captain," General Carson said.

"Mission successful., Now returning to base."

"Very good, Captain."

"Over—"

A crack behind her echoed through the valley. She spun around to see a hole in the snow field and one private staring at it in shock.

"Shit. Private, what is that?" Scarlett asked.

"Private Radley, ma'am. He…" Scarlett rushed over.

"Get away from there, Private."

He was too busy scrambling away from the chasm to respond.

Scarlett reached the hole.

What the fuck? Holy hell, we're on a lake.

"Lake! We're on a lake. Radley's under."

She began scooping the snow from around the hole, hoping to catch a glimpse of the missing soldier beneath the ice. He wouldn't last long if they didn't find him.

"Lieutenant, I need help. Radley's under the ice. Someone needs to tie in a support in case it cracks further; we don't all need to go swimming."

Scarlett saw her lieutenant issuing orders from the corner of her eye while she continued to dig. The ice was so thick she couldn't see anything.

Shit, I'm not going to lose a soldier on my first mission!

The general's voice broke through her panic. "Captain, you don't have time. You can't afford to delay; the storm will bury you all alive if you don't make it back."

No, she wasn't going to leave him behind. She clicked the receiver off, wincing. She was sure she would regret it later.

How the hell was she going to get him out? He'd moved away from where the ice had broken and could be anywhere.

That might work. She threw her pack to the ground, digging to the very bottom.

"Stand back."

The flare rocketed into the water, and a second later the ice sheet was lit up in a bright, glowing red.

"There."

A patch of darkness moving in the sea of red.

"Someone secure themselves and let's start digging."

She didn't wait before sprinting over, axe at the ready, hacking into the ground right next to Radley's shadow. Her squad mates dropped beside her, all furiously slashing away at the ground.

Lieutenant West reached in and pulled Radley up under the arms, dragging him onto the ice. He was shivering violently and coughing up a lungful of frigid water. Scarlett tugged her foil blanket from her pack as the lieutenant stripped Radley of his sodden uniform.

"One of you pass over your camo. Mine won't fit him," Scarlett ordered.

Three of them rushed to start unzipping.

"Just one will do, but quickly, we need to get him warm."

Scarlett looked down at the radio clipped to her chest. This wasn't going to be fun.

"Come in, command." She held her breath as she waited for the response. After a few seconds, it came.

"Captain." The general did not sound pleased.

"Requesting emergency medical support, ma'am."

"You got him then?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I will send the medics and approve evacuation for one."

"Two, General."

"Two?"

"Yes, General. Private Lee should also return to base quickly, on account of no longer having full cold-weather protective layers."

A cold silence sat between them.

"Very well. Evacuation for two."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Don't thank me yet, Captain. You and the rest of your squadron will be returning as planned, storm or no."

With that, the line went dead.

As they piled in base, exhausted and frozen, Scarlett saw the general standing blank-faced awaiting their arrival.

"The privates?" Scarlett asked.

"In med bay," she replied shortly. "Good work, soldiers. Go rest. Any intelligence you have collected can be passed on to your captain in the morning."

"Yes, General," the soldiers said as they moved to their bunks.

"Not you, Captain. You're needed for debrief."

Scarlett closed her eyes; her first mission, and she'd pissed off the general. Lieutenant West met her eyes pityingly before he left. She was in for a dressing down then. At least the general was feeling kind enough to do it in private.

Best get this over with.

She dragged herself through the door and followed Carson's retreating form down the corridor and into what Scarlett presumed were her quarters.

She mustn't be too mad, then, if this chat is happening in her private rooms.

The door was shut when Scarlett reached it. She rapped her knuckles against its hard surface, her heart pounding.

"Enter."

Scarlett pushed open the door, striding in with a mix of determination and apprehension. General Carson looked up from her desk, her exhaustion evident, and gestured curtly toward the worn couch.

"Sit down, Captain. If you stand there, I'll strain my neck trying to look up at you."

"Yes, General. Thank you," Scarlett replied, lowering herself onto the couch, trying to mask her discomfort.

Carson's gaze was unwavering, and there was a hard edge to her voice. "So, you can follow orders after all. I wasn't sure."

Scarlett flinched, the jab stinging more than she expected. "General, I?—"

"Let's get one thing straight," Carson cut in sharply, leaning forward. "You did well leading your team under the circumstances. Your efforts were impressive, and you managed to get everyone back safely. That's a commendable achievement."

"Thank you, General," Scarlett responded, though her tone was defensive.

Carson's expression hardened. "But let's not gloss over the facts. You knowingly put your squad in extreme danger. You knew the storm was coming. What if it had hit earlier? What if the vehicles failed? You could have left several people to die in that storm. What if Private— whatever his name is- what if he had succumbed to the cold?"

Scarlett stood abruptly, her voice rising. "I understood the risks, General, but I couldn't just abandon him. He's young. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least try to save him."

Carson's eyes flashed. "And maybe you've done something good, but maybe you haven't. Captain, you have to understand you are responsible for the lives of every member of your squad. There will be times when you need to weigh the value of one life against many. You have to make those hard decisions with the bigger picture in mind."

"I get that!" Scarlett shot back, moving closer to Carson's desk. "But you don't know what it's like to look into their eyes, to see them as real people and not just numbers on a report!"

Carson stood, her chair scraping back, and closed the distance between them. "And you don't know what it's like to be the one making those tough calls, to carry the weight of every decision on your shoulders."

Their faces were inches apart now, the charged air between them palpable. Scarlett's breath quickened, and Carson's steely grey gaze softened momentarily, the sternness giving way to something more personal.

"And don't even get me started on you shutting down the comms line," Carson continued, her voice lower but no less intense. "If you ever do that again, I will have your rank stripped. Do you understand me? You may disagree with me, but you do not cut me off. Those soldiers are mine too."

Scarlett's eyes locked onto Carson's, the unspoken tension hanging heavy between them. "Yes, ma'am. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

Carson took a deep breath, her own composure faltering. She stepped back, forcing space between them, but the energy lingered. "Dismissed, Captain. Get some rest. I'll expect the intelligence report on my desk first thing tomorrow."

"Understood, General. Good night," Scarlett said, her voice softer now, though her eyes still held a trace of defiance.

Scarlett needed to clear her head. She felt hot and flushed, like her head was filled with steam. The general reprimanding her should not have made her feel this way. Nervous, angry, yes. But turned on? What was wrong with her?

Without wasting time, she turned on the shower and adjusted the water to its coldest setting. As the icy spray hit her, she gasped, her body tensing at the shock. The cold was harsh and invigorating, cutting through the fog of attraction and frustration that had settled over her. Scarlett stood under the frigid water, letting it wash over her. Still, the general's gray eyes flashing with anger wouldn't leave her mind.

The water beat down relentlessly, and Scarlett closed her eyes, focusing on the chill and the way it made her skin tingle. She forced herself to concentrate on the here and now, pushing aside the lingering thoughts of General Carson.

After she fully acclimated to the temperature, Scarlett turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping herself in a towel. She could still feel the lingering chill on her skin. The clarity she sought was beginning to surface, but the exhaustion was creeping in.

Collapsing onto her bed, Scarlett let out a weary sigh. The soft, cool sheets felt comforting against her skin, a welcome respite after the day's turmoil. Her mind continued to buzz with the echoes of her interaction with General Carson, but her body was too tired to fight the exhaustion any longer.