He laughed quietly. “Looking forward to it, baby. See you later.”
I quickly completed my morning ablutions (two baby-wipes over my face and under my arms, and a tiny squeeze of toothpaste to brush my teeth). I was touched, more than touched, that Sebastian had slept at the foot of my mattress, making sure I was okay, when he would have been better off crashing on his own bedroll for a few meager hours. Somehow that told me far more about the way he felt, than if he’d woken me up for a rousing bout of illicit sex. I wouldn’t have minded that either, and I’d been disappointed that he’d had to go so quickly. I knew he was trying damn hard to keep our relationship a secret. God love him for trying.
Which reminded me, he’d gone outside to wash and shave. I grabbed my camera and headed out.
The sun was just beginning to appear behind the mountains, weaving pink and purple clouds around the summits, when, like a gift from heaven, I saw a row of Marines, naked above the waist, who were washing outside in the cool air. Nicole would have gone crazy: all that taut, toned male flesh on display. It was a damn fine sight, but I was on the lookout for one sexy, muscular back that I’d gotten to know very well in the last two weeks.
I hid behind my camera, and snapped images of compound life. Yeah, right. Finally, I had a photograph of Sebastian that I could keep legitimately while I was working.
Then one of the older Marines spotted me.
“You gonna blow up a nice big print of me, lady?”
And then the catcalls started. Marines of all shapes and sizes started flexing their biceps and even rubbing their nipples in my general direction.
I couldn’t help laughing, more at the furious scowl on Sebastian’s face than anything else.
“Gentlemen,” I said, “it’s too early in the day for all that: I haven’t even had my breakfast MRE yet.”
The good-natured teasing continued as I made my way across the compound to the line for chow. Hmm, more noodles and meat in dinky little plastic packs. No wonder this food was also known as ‘Meals Rejected by the Enemy’ or even ‘Man Ready to Eat’. I was really hoping we’d get a helicopter drop of some fresh fruit and Arations at some point over the next three-and-a-half weeks. Otherwise, my bottle of soy sauce wasn’t going to last long.
Captain Grant stuck his head out, searching for the source of gratuitous good humor. When he saw me, he looked surprised and nodded politely. I nodded back, but couldn’t help grinning at him.
He smiled cautiously, then bobbed back inside.
Ten minutes later, I joined the officers and gunnery sergeants for the morning’s briefing. Sebastian was there, too, freshly-shaven and looking grumpy.
“This morning we’ll have four patrols moving out. Crawley, I want you and your team with me heading northeast along the river bed wadi. Romero, northwest by the edge of town. Jankowski, your men take the old market area with Holden flanking you at 100 yards.
“Hunter: you’re in charge of the terps – brief them before we go. The population here are Sunnis. Are any of your men Shiite?”
“Two, sir,” said Sebastian. “I’ve told them to stay behind today.”
“Does that leave us short?” said Grant, frowning.
“No, sir, but one of the teams will have to have Angaar: his English is so-so.”
“Then send one of the others with him.”
“They don’t get on, sir. Could cause problems.”
“Then damn well make sure it doesn’t, Hunter!” snapped the Captain.
Sebastian didn’t argue the point further, but I could tell he was slightly pissed.
As the meeting broke up, I ventured to put my hand in the air. Part of me hoped I’d be with Sebastian’s patrol; part of me hoped I wasn’t, because I knew I’d be a distraction for him.
“Which team would you like me with, Captain Grant?”
He looked up, clearly irritated.
Well, fuck him! He wasn’t the only one doing a job here.