Chapter 1

Chapter One

Izzy

L ieutenant Colonel Isabel Oakley stepped off the transport plane and onto the scorching desert tarmac as exhaustion washed over her. The long flight from the States combined with the stress of preparing for this deployment had taken their toll. Her eyes felt gritty, her muscles ached, and her mind was numb.

But she knew she couldn't afford to rest. Not yet.

Being posted to this special operation unit had been a dream come true, and she intended to do her best.

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and walked toward the command center of the forward operating base. The blistering sun beat down on her, sucking the moisture from her skin.

As she entered the command center, a flurry of activity greeted her. Personnel bustled about, preparing for the upcoming mission. Izzy’s gaze swept across the room before locking onto the intelligence officer, Lieutenant Colonel Patel.

"Lieutenant Colonel Isabel Oakley reporting for duty, sir," she said, her voice crisp despite her fatigue.

Lieutenant Colonel Patel looked up from the maps spread out before him, his eyes narrowing as he took in her disheveled appearance. "Lieutenant Colonel Oakley, welcome to FOB Eagle. You’re right on time."

Izzy nodded, her mind already racing with the tasks ahead. "Sir, I've already reviewed the mission briefing. What's the current situation on the ground?"

Lieutenant Colonel Patel gestured to the maps, and Isabel moved closer, her eyes scanning the terrain. "We've got a high-value target located approximately 10 klicks north of our position. Intel suggests a heavy enemy presence in the area."

She dove into the mission planning, her focus laser sharp and exhaustion forgotten. She knew that in this unforgiving environment, complacency could be deadly, and she was ready to get to work.

Quickly adjusting her uniform, she scanned the bustling special operations unit’s base. Although she had been here only an hour, she could already see that there was a lot of work to be done.

The first task was to check on the medical unit, ensuring it was fully equipped and prepared for the upcoming operation.

As she entered the medical tent, she was greeted by the unit's medic, Sergeant Thompson. "Ma’am, what brings you here today?"

"Just doing my due diligence, Sergeant. I want to make sure everything is in order for the mission."

He nodded, leading her through the tent. "We're all set, Lieutenant Colonel. We've got all the necessary medical supplies and equipment."

But as she inspected the shelves and crates, her trained eye noticed something was missing. "Where's the portable defibrillator?" she asked, her voice firm.

Sergeant Thompson hesitated, his expression faltering. "Ah, I think it might have been misplaced, ma’am ."

Isabel’s gut tightened. The portable defibrillator was a critical component of the mission. Without it, the team would be severely compromised if there were any emergencies.

"I need to see the inventory logs, Sergeant."

As they reviewed the logs, Isabel’s suspicions were confirmed. The defibrillator was nowhere to be found.

This was not just a minor setback; it was a potentially fatal omission that could put the entire mission at risk, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it.

She marched toward the medical quarters and found the unit doctor in charge of equipment, Lieutenant Lewis, tending to a patient on a stretcher.

She cleared her throat. "Doctor, I need to speak with you."

But before the doctor could respond, the patient—a very attractive woman of medium height with a lean, muscular build; short, tousled blonde hair; and sharp green eyes that twinkled with mischief—looked up at her with a grin. Izzy couldn’t stop looking at her bare arms, beautiful lines of muscle gleaming. "Hey, doc, maybe it's being used for a different procedure. Lots of crazy people here, if you know what I mean." She winked at the doctor.

Isabel's eyes narrowed. "This is no laughing matter, private. The defibrillator is a critical piece of medical equipment, not some toy for your amusement."

"Private?" the young soldier spat out as if the sound of Isabel’s words were bitter, She stood. "Major Drew Mitchell at your service, ma'am."

Major Mitchell’s twinkle in her lovely green eyes was still there, though Isabel noticed it had subdued slightly. She was thoroughly unimpressed and rightly so. “Well, that defib is very important, and I don't appreciate those jokes."

The major chuckled, seemingly unfazed by her rebuke. "Hey, I'm just trying to lighten the mood. You surgeon types are always so serious."

Lieutenant Lewis shot the major a warning glance. " Lieutenant Colonel Oakley, please, let's step outside for a moment, ma’am."

As they exited the medical quarters, Isabel's expression remained stern. "Doctor, I need to know what happened to that defibrillator. We can't afford to have it missing."

Lieutenant Lewis nodded, his expression apologetic. "I understand, ma’am. I'll investigate and get back to you ASAP."

Isabel nodded, her eyes still flashing with annoyance at the major's inappropriate joke. "See that you do, doctor. This is no laughing matter."

As she emerged into the bright sunlight, she was surprised to see that the major had followed her with a smug grin spreading across her face. She had dressed now and her rank was very obvious.

"Hey, Lieutenant Colonel, don't worry about the defib." Her voice dripped with nonchalance. "It's not like it's a crucial piece of equipment or anything."

Isabel's eyes flashed with anger, her temper igniting like a spark to gasoline. "Excuse me, Major?" she said, her voice low and even but laced with venom.

Major Mitchell shrugged. "I mean, come on, we’re not going to be dealing with any serious medical emergencies out there. It's just a precaution."

Isabel's anger boiled over. "You think you can dismiss the importance of a defibrillator? I’m a trauma surgeon. I will make the decisions on what medical equipment is necessary.”

The surrounding soldiers stopped what they were doing, their eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them. Isabel's face was red with rage, and her fists were clenched at her sides.

"Do you have any idea what could happen if we don't have that defib? Do you have any idea how many lives could be lost because of your negligence?"

Major Mitchell took a step back, her grin faltering, but Isabel wasn't finished.

"I don't think you do, Major. I think you're just a reckless, arrogant..." She caught herself, her training and discipline kicking in. She took a deep breath, her voice dropping to a growl. "We will find that defib, Major Mitchell. And we will have it ready for this mission. Do I make myself clear?"

The major nodded as her green eyes sparkled. She swiveled on her heel and started walking away, but she stopped and turned to face Isabel. “Absolutely, Lieutenant Colonel. I like your fierce commitment.”

Major Mitchell looked Izzy up and down appraisingly like she might want to devour her.

And then she turned and walked out, leaving a stunned silence in her wake.

Isabel stood tall, her eyes scanning the horizon as she led her medical team out of the special operations unit's base. The desert sun beat down on them, casting a golden glow over the vast expanse of sand and rock.

It was the third day, and their mission was to investigate a recent attack carried out just a few miles from their base where a group of soldiers had been ambushed, leaving several critically injured.

As they navigated the treacherous terrain in their armored vehicle, Isabel's mind raced with worst-case scenarios. She had been posted to this unit only a few days ago, but she had already earned a reputation for her exceptional leadership skills and unwavering dedication to her team.

The medical team—consisting of Lieutenant Lewis, a soft-spoken yet highly skilled doctor and Sergeant Thompson, a gruff but lovable medic—worked in tandem with Lieutenant Colonel Oakley, their movements fluid and practiced.

Upon arriving at the scene, Isabel's team sprang into action, their training kicking in as they assessed the situation. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and sweat, and the ground was littered with the remnants of the ambush: shattered glass, twisted metal, and the eerie silence of a battlefield.

Isabel's eyes locked onto a figure lying motionless on the ground: a young soldier, his face deathly pale, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. She rushed to his side, her heart racing with a mix of adrenaline and concern.

"Lieutenant Lewis, we need to stabilize him now!" she barked, her voice rising above the din of the scene.

With precision and speed, the medical team worked to save the soldier's life, their hands moving in tandem as they administered treatment. Isabel watched, her eyes never leaving the soldier's face.

As they finally stabilized the soldier and prepared to transport him back to the base, Isabel's gaze swept the area, her mind still reeling from the attack. She knew that this was only the beginning, that their mission was far from over.

As they left the scene of the attack, a sudden, heart-stopping explosion rocked the air from the right hand side of the vehicle. Flames licked at the windows and doors of their armored vehicle. Their shouts of surprise and alarm filled the air as they scrambled to escape the vehicle.

This was not what she had been expecting when they set out that morning. But then that was what their training was about. Always expect the unexpected.

Isabel's instincts kicked in, her training taking over as she swiftly assessed the situation. "Get out now!" She grabbed the wounded soldier, pulling him to safety.

They stumbled back from the vehicle- the opposite side to where the explosion had been, coughing and covering their faces from the acrid smoke and heat. The vehicle, their only means of transportation, was now a blazing wreck, flames engulfing it with terrifying speed.

Stranded and surrounded by the hostile terrain and the remnants of the ambush, Isabel's mind raced. They had to act fast and find shelter and safety before another attack came. She scanned the horizon for any sign of rescue or refuge.

"Lieutenant Lewis, assess our situation," she barked, her voice firm and commanding. "Sergeant Thompson, check for injuries. We need to move now!"

As they quickly assessed their situation, Isabel knew they had to keep moving. They were sitting ducks, exposed and vulnerable in the open desert. She spotted a cluster of rocks in the distance far away from where she could see the enemy.

"Let's move!" She led her team toward the rocks, their only refuge in the vast, hostile expanse.

As Isabel and her team fled toward the rocks, there was an eerie silence. Suddenly, the air was split by the thunderous roar of a military aircraft, its arrival as unexpected as it was welcome.

The team turned, shielding their eyes from the sun, as a sleek fighter jet screamed across the sky, its cannons blazing. The terrorists, caught off guard, were quickly decimated, their positions targeted with precision.

Isabel's instincts flared, her anger and frustration boiling over. She had been forced to flee, to abandon her vehicle and her mission. But now, with the arrival of air support, the tables had turned.

"Take cover!" she yelled as the aircraft made another pass, its guns tearing into the enemy’s positions.

But she didn't take cover. Instead, she stood tall, her eyes blazing with fierce determination. She turned to her team, her voice ringing out across the desert.

"We're not running anymore. We're taking back control. Let's move!"

With a ferocious cry, Isabel led the charge, her team following close behind. They sprinted toward the enemy’s positions, their weapons at the ready. The aircraft continued to provide cover, its guns laying down a withering field of fire.

As they closed in, Isabel could see the terrorists faltering, their lines breaking. She raised her weapon, her sight fixed on the enemy.

"It's time to finish this," she growled, her finger squeezing the trigger.

With a battle cry, Isabel led the charge, her team following close behind. They swept across the desert terrain, their weapons blazing as they targeted the enemy combatants. The aircraft continued to provide cover, its guns laying down a withering field of fire that pinned down the enemy.

As they fought, exhilaration washed over her. She was in her element, leading her team into battle and taking control of the situation. She darted between rocks, her weapon firing in short, precise bursts.

The enemy soldiers were quickly overwhelmed, their positions breached, their fighters either killed or captured. Isabel stood tall, her chest heaving with exertion as she surveyed the aftermath of the battle.

She was a doctor first- this wasn’t her usual role, although obviously she was trained for it, but in the absence of anyone better placed, she had taken it on and she smiled to herself. She had suceeded.

"Secure the area!"

Her team complied, and as they rounded up the surviving terrorists, Isabel's thoughts turned to the mission. They had been ambushed and their vehicle was destroyed, but they had fought back and taken control. She felt a sense of pride and satisfaction knowing that her team had performed flawlessly under pressure.

But as she looked around at the carnage, she knew that this was far from over. There would be more battles to fight and more missions to complete, and she was ready.

"Let's get the wounded evacuated. We've got a job to finish."

With that, Isabel led her team to the plane to go back to the base ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As the plane touched down, Isabel's heart swelled with gratitude. They had made it out alive, thanks to the timely intervention of the aircraft. But as the door to the cockpit opened and a figure emerged, her emotions took a drastic turn.

Major Drew Mitchell, the same officer she had lashed out at just hours before, stood before her, a look of concern etched on her face. Isabel felt a wave of shame wash over her, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Major...I..."

Major Mitchell's expression softened, her eyes crinkling at the corners. " Lieutenant Colonel Oakley, I'm just glad I was in the area. We got the distress call and, well, you know the rest."

Isabel nodded, still trying to process her emotions. She had been so quick to judge the major, to assume the worst. And now, here she was, the one who had saved her and her team and there was kindness in her eyes.

"I...I don't know what to say, Major," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Major Mitchell smiled, her eyes glinting with amusement. "No need to say anything, Lieutenant Colonel. Just glad we're all safe. Although," she added, her voice teasing, "I think we need to work on your communication skills. Lashing out at me like that? Not exactly the best way to get what you want."

Her hungry gaze looked at Izzy once again.

And then just like before, she walked away.

Isabel felt her face grow even hotter, but she couldn't help but laugh. Maybe, just maybe, she had misjudged Major Mitchell. And maybe, just maybe, she owed her an apology.

The next day, Isabel stood outside Major Mitchell’s quarters, her hand raised to knock on the door, hesitating. She had been thinking about apologizing to Major Mitchell, but now she wasn't so sure.

As she reflected on their encounter, she realized her anger had been misplaced. The major's comment about the defibrillator had been thoughtless, but her reaction had been disproportionate. She had let her stress and fatigue get the better of her.

But as she considered apologizing, another reason crept into her mind. She remembered the way Major Mitchell’s eyes had crinkled at the corners when she smiled and the way her short blonde hair curled slightly just above her ears. She felt a flutter in her chest, and her resolve wavered.

Maybe, just maybe, she wanted to apologize because she wanted an excuse to see her again, to be close to her, and the thought sent a shiver down her spine.

The memory of Major Mitchell’s smile lingered, etched in her mind like a whispered promise. Her eyes, a striking green that seemed to hold a perpetual glint of amusement, had crinkled at the corners as she spoke. And her hair, blonde and curly, had seemed to beckon her closer.

As she pondered her apology, a sly, insidious thought crept into her mind again, weaving a subtle spell of attraction.

Isabel's hand dropped, her fingers brushing against the rough fabric of her uniform. She turned away from the door, the desert landscape stretching out before her like an endless sea of gold. She wouldn't apologize now. She couldn't trust her own motivations, couldn't risk revealing the hidden truth: that she was drawn to the pilot- Major Drew Mitchell in ways she couldn't yet understand.

She had been grappling with the weight of her proposed apology for what felt like an eternity, her thoughts tangled in a web of conflicting emotions. And to go for a spark of electricity that seemed to crackle between them like a live wire would be a huge mistake.

She needed to keep her distance and maintain a professional relationship.

But as she walked away, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was denying herself something more.

She had hardly walked a few feet when a voice whispered into her ear. She felt ripples of electricity flash through her body and the tiny hairs on her neck stand up.

Major Mitchell’s voice was deep and gruff and the sexiest thing she had ever heard.

"Did you just come to apologize without bringing something to drink?"