Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Izzy

“ J ust face it!”

It had been three days, and Drew's words still gnawed at Izzy. The echoing tone of her voice was still sad, and those three words were still sharp and accusatory. Drew had called her a coward to her face, and she didn't do anything about it.

Why? Is it because she just couldn't confront her in the moment? Or maybe it was the fact that she knew Drew was right, but she was too proud to admit it.

They had seen each other several times, even after promising to be professional, yet she was playing the blame game, exempting herself, even though she was equally wrong.

Of course, her emotions undeniably influenced her professional demeanor, manifesting in subtle yet telling ways. She overcompensated by adopting an unnecessarily icy persona around her subordinates when Drew was present, attempting to conceal her true feelings.

Her gaze would instinctively sweep through crowds, searching for a glimpse of her, betraying her longing. Whenever their mission was jeopardized and Drew took risks to ensure its success, her concern for her safety was obvious, etched on her face.

And when Drew's genuine smile illuminated the room, her own world momentarily lost its vibrancy, as if nothing else mattered. These tiny, telling moments revealed the depth of her emotions, and she knew Drew was aware of them, too.

Then why did she lie to her face? Why did she pretend she wasn't in this with her? Why did she let her wallow alone in a pool of agony? These questions haunted Izzy as she went about her daily routine.

But what options did she have? Even if she acknowledged her feelings for Drew, how would it change their situation? They couldn't keep hiding their affection forever, constantly looking over their shoulders, fearful of being discovered by their peers.

With some already harboring suspicions, surrendering to Drew's requests would only put them in greater danger of being discovered, potentially jeopardizing their careers.

It was obvious she felt a deep sense of calm when she was with Drew, but was it worth blowing her life over and risking it all? Was their relationship worth forfeiting her career, her reputation, and her future?

Surely it should be left as what it was, those few incredible nights of life changing sex that Izzy would never forget a single second of.

She envisioned the chief commander's face, furrowed with disappointment, as he revoked her honors and badges, his voice tinged with sorrow and a hint of anger at her downfall. And her fellow soldiers who had trusted and respected her, how would they react to the news?

Izzy shook her head vigorously at the thought of it. No. She couldn't let it happen. Confusion wracked through her as she considered her options, she was literally between the devil and the deep blue sea.

“Lieutenant Colonel?” The voice jerked her into reality. She opened the door to see the lieutenant, who had been hospitalized a few weeks ago. He seemed to be back on his feet, happy and delighted.

Isabel had been so engrossed in her head these few days that she forgot he had been dismissed. “Good afternoon, Lieutenant Colonel,” he said gleefully.

“Good afternoon, Lieutenant; I'm glad you're doing better.”

“I am, ma'am. The commander in chief sent me here. He wants to see you immediately.”

The news shook Isabel slightly. Had her fears already come into existence? She turned to the lieutenant. “Thank you. I'll be with him shortly," she said with a smile.

As she composed herself, she also gathered her thoughts, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead. She was prepared and resolute, ready to brace whatever the chief had in store for her.

She came out of her quarters and headed for the chief’s office. A few people greeted her, and she answered them briefly before hurrying inside the office.

“Good afternoon, sir.” She saluted.

“Good afternoon, Isabel. At ease.,”

That was a relief. She wouldn't be asked to stand at ease if the matter was delicate. She was too engrossed in her thoughts to notice that the chief had started talking.

“Lieutenant Colonel, are you okay?”

“Yes, sir, I'm all good,” she replied, now paying attention.

“There’s an urgent operation I need you to carry out. I need your best soldiers on this mission. It's a raid, and it's highly dangerous. There's a camp north of here about a few miles that's harboring terrorists. They are preparing for an attack on the neighboring towns tomorrow, so we need to act tonight.” He paused to let his words sink in.

“I need you to gather your best soldiers, infiltrate the camp, and take prisoners if you can. Do not leave any stone unturned. I trust you to do the right thing.”

“Yes, sir.” She saluted and walked out to gather the team together. She sent a lieutenant to get Drew, Smith, and a few people she could trust—people she'd seen make sacrifices, people who were brave and untamed.

The team gathered in the command center, and the soldiers seemed quite riled up about the mission as she went into details. She mentioned the dangers involved, considering it was a night mission.

“Remember, we're not there to engage in an endless firefight. Our goal is to get in, get the job done, and get out. Stay together and watch each other's backs. This mission requires skill, discipline, and teamwork. I have every confidence in every one of you. Let's move out, and let's make it happen!"

“Yes, ma'am!” they roared.

“We're to assemble back here by 21:30. For now, you're all dismissed. Get some rest.” As the soldiers walked away, Izzy searched for Drew but noticed she was one of the first people to leave.

Drew was clearly avoiding her. As Izzy gathered a few maps for some research, Sergeant Thompson walked in. “Good afternoon, Lieutenant Colonel.”

“What brings you here, Sergeant?”

“I want to be part of the mission.”

Isabel was slightly taken aback. The sergeant wasn't a typical person she’d have considered.

“Why?”

“Well, I'm a soldier who’s volunteering for starters. Secondly, the medical team isn’t coming with you, and I can help in case of any casualties. Besides, you have great combat skills and survival instincts.”

“It's okay, sergeant. You're in. I'll brief you myself,” she said. Thompson was a friend and capable soldier, and he had a good point. She needed someone else with enough medical knowledge to assist in case of an emergency. She sincerely hoped there would be no casualties.

About seven hours later, the team arrived all dressed in black for camouflage. Izzy scrutinized the explosives thoroughly before ordering them to be loaded into the helicopter.

All the soldiers had their headlights on before marching into the armored aircraft. They seemed delighted to go on the mission.

Izzy sat beside Sergeant Thompson. As they deliberated on the mission in whispers, she threw a few glances to the flight deck. It was nice to see Drew at a close range without the awkwardness.

They soon arrived at the area, dropped off a few miles away, and walked in to catch the terrorists off guard.

First, they blew up the enemy camp with a precisely detonated explosive charge, leveling the central hub and sending shockwaves through the surrounding structures.

The team then swiftly moved in. The terrorists hadn't been expecting them, so they exploited the chaos and confusion, clearing the perimeter. While Drew and Smith marched on one side, Isabel and Sergeant Thompson went in the opposite direction.

They pushed deeper into the camp and encountered fierce resistance, but their coordination helped them to overcome the terrorists. Room by room, building by building, they methodically cleared the area, gathering vital intel and taking down targets.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly until Isabel and Sergeant Thompson stumbled on the camp's stronghold.

It seemed they were on the verge of defeat. Izzy hoped the same hadn't happened on the other side, so she immediately reached out to Drew.

Drew confirmed the absence of a stronghold but, on hearing their dilemma, offered a suggestion. “Can I head back to the chopper for a precision strike?” She sounded agitated.

“As soon as possible, Major. But you must wait for our coordinates before you strike. Understood?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Izzy hoped that she'd be in position soon. In the meantime, the snipers tried to do justice to the dreadful terrorists, while she, the sergeant, and other soldiers tried their best to retain them inside.

The low hum that soon transcended into a loud thrum bloomed hope for Izzy. Drew had arrived.

She yelled over the intercom, “Are you positioned, Major?”

“Affirmative, Lieutenant Colonel!”

Izzy scanned the area for relevant information about the precise location. She described the stronghold, and Drew notified her that the targeted building was in her sights.

“Hold on,” Izzy said. She turned to the soldiers and screamed, “Retreat! Snipers, cover the area!” As the soldiers retreated, Izzy tried to ward off the attacks while slowly adjusting backward.

Suddenly, a loud earth-shaking boom rocked the ground as a precision-guided munition dropped from the aircraft above and struck the stronghold with unerring accuracy, sending a massive fireball and debris plume high into the air.

The concussion wave knocked Izzy off balance and shattered the windows and structures in the surrounding area, the sudden, intense blast a stark reminder of the raw power of explosives.

It took Izzy a few minutes to come to. She coughed up dust and debris, her head spinning as she struggled to sit up amidst the ruins of her surroundings. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and explosives.

She assessed the environment, taking in the devastation wrought by the precision strike. A few soldiers around her, dazed and battered, slowly regained consciousness. Izzy ears rang from the blast, but she knew she had to act quickly. She called out, her voice hoarse from the dust, "Report! What's our status?"

There was no reply, and it took her a moment to realize that her intercom had been damaged. In frustration, she yelled, “Retreat! Retreat! Retreat!” As she yelled, she scrambled around, searching frantically for more of her teammates.

She found most of them battered and bruised but alive. All the soldiers on the other side were safe, and they assisted the wounded ones outside.

A young lieutenant was stumbling toward her, his face blackened with soot, his arm hanging limply at his side.

"Can you hear me? Are you okay?" she shouted above the din as she rushed to his side.

He nodded, wincing in pain. She was about to lead him out when she saw Sergeant Thompson on the floor.

His body was limp and motionless, a crimson stain spreading from beneath his head, his eyes frozen in a permanent stare. Izzy’s heart skipped a beat as she rushed to his side, her mind filled with dread. "Sarge! No, no, no!" she said, her voice cracking. She dropped to her knees, feeling for a pulse, but there was none.

Sergeant Thompson, her trusted friend and confidant, was gone. Izzy’s vision blurred as she gazed at his lifeless body, memories of their countless battles and shared moments flashing through her mind. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead. "We need to keep moving!" she yelled to her team, her voice firm but laced with anguish.

A few soldiers came and carried the sergeant's body. With their objective accomplished, the team gathered at the exit. Drew appeared a few minutes later, and the soldiers scurried in. The armored chopper was thick with a scent of anxiety, somberness, and the stench of death.

Izzy was full of rage at Drew, but they needed to get to safety first. She held onto the dead sergeant's hand for a little while before tending to the injured soldiers. Smith assisted her quietly.

As soon as the aircraft touched down on the tarmac, its engines dying down with a final whine, the team let out a collective sigh of relief, their bodies sagging in exhaustion.

Izzy was the first to rise, her movements stiff from the adrenaline crash, and her eyes red and wild from smoke, anger, and death. She jumped off and rushed over to the side of the flight deck.

Drew stepped down, and her face seemed distorted with perplexion. “Why the hell did you attack before I gave the order?” Izzy demanded, her words dripping in rage.

She continued, “We had a fucking plan, Major. A strategy to minimize casualties. I asked you to hold on! Damn right, I did.

“But you couldn't wait, could you? You had to go rogue, had to play hero, and now… now we've lost a good comrade, a friend, a committed soldier because of your impulsive decisions and recklessness."

The few soldiers who hung around were quiet, the air thick with unease. Izzy’s anger was understandable; the mission had been a disaster, and Sergeant Thompson's death weighed heavily on her mind.

Izzy's voice dripped with sarcasm as she faced Drew, her eyes flashing with anger. "Oh, now the great hero Drew Mitchell is speechless? Where's your quick wit, Major? Your sharp tongue that's always so ready to deflect and charm? Where is it now when we need answers?" She took a step closer, her voice rising.

"You've got nothing to say? No excuses, no justifications, no clever quips to deflect the blame?"

Although they were standing outside, the space seemed to have shrunk, the tension between them crackling like a live wire.

The team watched, frozen, as Izzy’s words hung in the air, waiting for Drew's response. Drew's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched in defiance, as she met Izzy’s glare.

"With all due respect, Lieutenant Colonel," she said, her voice low and even, "I don't think now is the time for recriminations. We have all had a bad day. We need to rest, the injured need to be attended to, and the dead?—”

“The dead?” Izzy interrupted. “The dead? You despise his name already? You can't pronounce it? That was Sergeant Thompson, goddammit. He was our friend, Major, And you killed him. Why? Because you wanted to play hero and save the day? Joke’s on you now. You’ve ruined everything!”

Major Mitchell’s eyes welled up with tears, but she took a deep breath and composed herself, her expression engraved with sorrow and regret. "Lieutenant Colonel, I...I'm deeply sorry," she began, her words barely above a whisper.

"I take full responsibility for the death of Sergeant Thompson. When you ordered me to hold position, I waited, but there was no confirmation signal. I soon realized that our intercom was malfunctioning, and I made a split-second decision to proceed without clearance." Her voice broke, but she continued, her words laced with anguish.

"I thought I was doing what was best for the team, but I was wrong. My recklessness cost us the life of a great soldier, Sergeant Thompson. I can't forgive myself for that." She paused, struggling to maintain her composure.

"I know I let you down, Lieutenant Colonel. I let the team down, and I'll carry this guilt with me forever. And as for my 'quick wit' and 'sharp tongue,' they are obviously irrelevant. I'm sorry once again.” Drew’s words hung heavy in the air as the team absorbed the magnitude of her regret and sorrow.

Izzy's expression softened, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and understanding. She nodded slowly, acknowledging Drew's apology.

Eventually, her mind began to replay the harsh words she had hurled at Drew, and she felt a growing sense of regret. She realized that her accusations had not only been heavy with condemnation but also thoughtless in their delivery.

She had let her emotions get the better of her, lashing out at Drew when she knew she was already grappling with guilt and grief. She wished she could take back her words, soften their edge, and find a way to address the situation without attacking Drew directly.

She turned to Drew to apologize, but she was already gone, having slipped out unnoticed. All she could do now was hope that she would understand her words had been spoken in pain, frustration, and anger.

The rest of the crowd dispersed slowly. Izzy’s thoughts turned to the strain building between her and Drew, the unspoken tension simmering for what felt like an eternity.

The emotional rift between them had become vast, with her harsh words and accusations further eroding the trust and understanding that once existed. Now, she felt utterly lost and bereft.

The weight of her responsibilities, the burden of command, and the strain of their fractured relationship…everything took a toll on her. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of self-doubt, and she didn't know who she had become.

She had always preached safety and diligence, but she crushed the heart of her best friend and lover. Her mind swirled with memories of their past conversations, the trust they had once shared, the intimacy, and the unspoken understanding that had once made their partnership so strong.

Now, all she could see was the endless stretch of what they had lost and the daunting task of trying to rebuild it, if it had any hope of being rebuilt. She had lost it all: her confidence, her sanity, and her focus.

The person who was her source of joy, her anchor in life, and who brought significance into her soul was now distant and furious, and Drew may potentially shut her out forever, leaving her feeling empty and lost.

Her eyes dropped, her gaze falling upon the cold floor as if searching for a lifeline to cling to, a way to salvage what was left of their relationship and find her way back to solid ground, but she knew there was none.

“Lieutenant Colonel?” Lieutenant Lewis called out. “I’m so sorry for your loss. But I think you should get some rest. You have had a really long night. It's almost dawn.”

“Thank you.” She nodded and walked toward her quarters, knowing fully well that a good night's sleep was impossible.