Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

“Worthy.”

Whoever that was, the voice was muffled enough for John to simply ignore it, though he had a good idea who was there—and that guy could wait his turn. Instead of looking around, John held up a hand, the universal sign for just hold your horses , closed his eyes, inclined his head, and listened hard, pressing the bell of stethoscope a little more firmly against the mother’s swollen belly. The mom and dad were legit evacuees, or so the Marines who’d brought both parents in claimed. Already woozy and unsteady on her feet, the massively pregnant woman had fainted; the Marine called for a buddy, and the two men had made a seat out of their arms and carried her the rest of the way to the med tent. The heat, John figured, combined with not having anything to drink had caused the woman to nearly black out. She was so dehydrated, it took a med tech, the same corporal from the van, three tries to get an IV going. Mom’s heart rate had come down and her color was better, but the dad said the baby hadn’t moved at all for the last hour.

And , he’d added, my wife feel pain in back.

Which worried the heck out of John.

Come on, little guy. The last time he’d done anything like this had been in med school during his OB-GYN rotation. Then, they’d had a specialized stethoscope to make hearing the baby easier. The baby’s dad, translating for the mother, said the baby was almost thirty-five weeks. So, late enough in the pregnancy, barely, if push came to shove, which he sincerely hoped it wouldn’t?—

“Worthy.” This time, the speaker tapped his shoulder. The voice was male and now loud enough for John to catch his CO’s tone.

This time, he answered. “In a second, sir.” He still didn’t turn, even though the dad’s eyes were now wide with concern. The father, a translator whom the Taliban would almost surely execute, knew about command structures.

Everyone, take it easy. Of course, not hearing anything wasn’t necessarily bad. All depended on the placental placement or the way the baby was lying. John listened so hard his ears rang. Come on, I know you’re ? —

A sudden wallop under the bell of his scope that was so hard, John jumped as the baby gave a ferocious kick and then squirmed so violently a ripple ran across the mother’s belly from left to right. At the same moment, the baby’s heartbeat came through his earpieces loud and clear: thumpthumpthumpthump . He counted, checked his watch then beamed at the couple and gave a thumb’s up for good measure.

“Sounds good to me.” Unplugging his ears, he held the earpieces out to the parents. “Want to listen?” As the father, all smiles now, helped the mom, he caught the tech’s eye and held up a finger: One more bag. He wanted this mom as tanked up on fluids as possible before sending both parents for processing.

Now the only thing to figure out was whether he could get the parents on a transport. Should check with the Marines who brought her in. Once the mom was stable, maybe he could grab one to help him walk them over to the State Department guys. Can’t let her have a baby here, in this place... He wasn’t sure if he meant the airport or Afghanistan, and it hardly mattered. Still thinking how he could swing this, he turned on his heel. That dad’s got a bull’s-eye on his ? —

“Whoa!” His CO, wearing a scowl, brought up both hands. “Not so fast, Captain.”

“Oh!” He blinked, ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, sir. I forgot you were?—”

“Yeah, yeah.” The colonel waved away whatever else John was going to say. “Have you seen Captain Keller?”

At the mention of her name, his heart did a somersault in his chest. How long had it been since he’d thought about Roni? Well, since surreptitiously eye-checking her station several times, though for once he hadn’t minded being up to his elbows in work. The only time he’d snatched for himself had been ten minutes to take care of nature’s call and then hydrate. He’d thought of her then, though, as he uncapped that awful orange drink.

“I honestly haven’t been paying attention, sir,” he said. This was, as they say, close enough to the truth for government work. “Haven’t seen her since this morning.”

“I saw her, sir.” It was the tech returning from stores with an IV bag in hand. “She was with a bunch of guys. I don’t think they were Marines, sir. Hair kind of not regulation, you know. Probably private contractors. I’ve seen them around here and there.”

No. John’s heart withered in his chest, and that pissed him off. He didn’t care what she did now. He didn’t give two sh?—

“Oh.” The colonel’s eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Do you know where they were headed?”

He could have stepped in then, volunteered that Driver and his guys hung in a particular hangar. But he kept his mouth shut. Because this only confirmed where Roni’s priorities lay, didn’t it? She’d chosen Driver, unless she was into group sex...

Oh, grow the hell up. Given that the CO was, well, their commanding officer, the guy probably had a good reason for wanting Roni. “I’ve seen them, too, sir,” he said. “They usually gather at a hangar, on the flight line. ”

“Oh, they weren’t heading that way, sir.” The tech was changing out the pregnant woman’s IV bag. “They were on their way east to the Gate.”

What? John’s eyebrows arched toward his hairline. Why would Roni ? —

“Oh,” the colonel said again. “Well, look...if either of you men see her, tell her to come find me. I’m heading to get a briefing on logistics for breaking down our operation day after tomorrow, but there’s something that’s come to my attention...” The colonel looked at his watch. “Worthy, it’s 1650. Aren’t you rotating off? You’re an hour overdue.”

“Had stuff to finish, sir.” Then, against his better judgment, he said, “If you want, I’m heading down to the Gate anyway.” One of the Marines who’d brought the pregnant woman in was a sergeant whom John had seen escorting refugees to the State Department people across base. “If I see her, I’ll tell her to find you. I can go now, if you want. I just needed to clear out as much of the mess from the day as I could.”

“You do that. As for the mess, well, that’s the hell of Afghanistan, isn’t it?” the colonel said as he turned to go. “It’s like Sisyphus. No matter how much you shovel out, there’s always more rolling downhill.”

He resisted the urge to point out that Sisyphus’s problem had been a very big rock, but he held his tongue. Same diff, really.

Because truer words.