“No, that’s fine, Ms. Venzi. We’re done here.”
He nodded to Sebastian, who saluted and left the Nissan hut-type room, throwing me a quick smile as he passed.
“We’ll be moving out in the morning, Ms. Venzi,” continued Captain Grant. “It’s going to get a lot less comfortable – and a lot more dangerous. We’ll be heading out to a remote location further north in Helmand. We’ll have BGAN satcomms, but I can’t guarantee you’ll always be able to get your stories out.”
“I understand, Captain.”
He sighed, and I suspected he’d been hoping I’d change my mind.
We ate our long-delayed evening meal with Lieutenant Crawley, the executive officer; four second lieutenants; and Sebastian. How very cozy.
Sebastian spent most of the meal staring at his food, or gazing into the distance. I could tell that he was irritating the hell out of Grant, who was burdened with the lion’s share of trying to make polite conversation with me, although Crawley made a good stab of asking me about my work. My poor fiancé was trying hard to ignore me: he wasn’t very good at it, and it just made me love him a little bit more.
I was well chaperoned, and I knew that there was absolutely zero chance of ‘hooking up’ as Sebastian had eloquently put it and, to tell the truth, I was so tired, I was almost on my knees.
The men stood up as I left our table in the dining area, Sebastian looking at me longingly.
“Sleep well, gentlemen,” I said, quietly.
As they sat down again, at least six of them relieved by my absence, I saw Sebastian glance over and smile again. I ran my finger along the chain around my neck and smiled back. It was enough.
Back at my bunk, PFC Sullivan was waiting for me, practically dancing on the spot with unrestrained energy. I felt every single one of my forty years as I eyed her exuberance wearily.
“I did it: I totally did it! I asked him out and he said ‘yes’!”
We swapped a high five, and she then proceeded to tell me all about Frank, a mechanic in the motor pool. Halfway through her description of his ‘fine ass’, I fell asleep. I had my own memories of a fine ass to dream about.
“Hey, Lee! Wake up!”
“Huh, what?”
Mary was shaking me awake, her little face puckered up with concern.
“Captain Grant is after your ass!”
My ass?
“What? Why?” I stared at my watch. I stared at it again, utterly horrified, and willing the hands to rewind at least an hour.
“I’m sorry,” whimpered Mary, “I thought you were awake; you said you were awake an hour ago. He’s really kinda mad at you.”
“Oh, crap!”
She giggled. “At least he can’t give you cleaning duty.”
“Want to bet?” I muttered, hastily pulling on my boots.
Mary helped me carry my gear out to the waiting vehicle, and a very sullen and irritated Captain Grant was waiting for me impatiently.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled, “I overslept. It won’t happen again.”
He couldn’t even bring himself to reply. I didn’t blame him: he was responsible for 160 men, and one stupid woman reporter, who was fucking things up on day two of a one month embed. I’d be pissed, as well.
I pulled my body armor over my aching body, swept my hair into a rough ponytail, and slapped on my helmet.
Grant scowled, and did the one thing he could to show his displeasure: he seated me next to Sebastian. I climbed in creakily, annoyed at myself for being so unprofessional, but as soon as I saw Sebastian grinning in my direction, I realized that the gods were on my side for once, and I couldn’t help smiling to myself.
“Good morning, Ms. Venzi,” he purred. “I trust you slept well?”