“What is it? What’s happened?” I said, scared by the expression on his face.
“Grant wants to see you,” he said, ignoring the curious gazes from the other men.
I stood up stiffly, and followed him into the office.
“Please take a seat, Ms. Venzi,” said Grant, gently.
My heart rate accelerated. What the hell was going on?
“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you… I told you yesterday that Chief Hunter picked up some obtuse threats to you; well, I’m afraid it’s become much more direct. The Taliban have heard that you’re with us – and they’re viewing you as a prize kill.”
I was vaguely aware that Sebastian was scowling at Grant, probably because the information had been so candid, but my brain was in freefall. They were targeting me?
“They’re aware of the value of publicity,” he said tiredly, “and I’m afraid earlier today, they killed another journalist – a woman – and Hunter has just had confirmed radio chatter that you’re a definite target. I’m calling in a heli to evacuate you back to Leatherneck as soon as possible. Ms. Venzi? Ms. Venzi?”
I looked up at him, stunned. “Who?”
“Excuse me?” he said, clearly puzzled.
“Who was the journalist they killed?”
His glanced over to Sebastian, a question in his eyes.
“Liz Ashton,” said Sebastian, his eyes soft with pity.
No. No no no no no no no.
I dropped my head into my hands.
“I’m sorry,” said Grant, uncomfortably. “Of course… you knew her.”
I nodded slowly. “She was my friend.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again, “but we can’t risk our mission here and…”
He bit off what he was going to say, but it didn’t matter. I’d guessed that there was some special reason his unit had been sent to Nowzad, and a reason why he didn’t want me here in the first place. A remote part of my brain remembered that Sebastian had hinted that he’d be traveling to remote villages, out of touch for days or even weeks.
But I was going home.
I looked up into Grant’s face, recognizing that this wasn’t the first time he’d had to break this sort of news.
“How did she die?”
Grant looked away, and it was Sebastian who answered. “Sniper. She died instantly.”
I think Grant tried to say something else to me, but I didn’t hear him. I walked out of his office, dry-eyed, my throat aching, vaguely aware that Sebastian had started to reach out for me as I walked past him.
I crossed the compound in a daze, ignoring everyone who spoke to me. I closed the door of my room behind me, and crouched down in the corner.
Not Liz. How could it be Liz? She was indestructible, larger than life. No, not larger than life. She was dead.
Put out the light, then put out the light.
Now her light was gone. One less stuttering candle in the darkness; one less person to tell the truth about this wretched war.
I refused to cry for her: not here, not in this godforsaken outpost.
Wrapping my hands around my knees tightly, I let my head fall forward, pressing my head down, as if to make as small a target as possible.
I don’t know how long I hid in the corner, before I heard a soft tap at the door.
I didn’t look up: I already knew it would be Sebastian. He shut the door behind him quietly, then sat down next to me and pulled me into his arms.
He didn’t speak, just rocked me gently and kissed my hair.
After a while, I let my body relax against him, curling into his chest.
“I’m so sorry, Caro,” he murmured. “I know she was your friend.”
We sat in silence until night fell, and I took strength from his touch and his unspoken love.
Outside, we heard the sounds of men changing watch, and Sebastian sighed. “I’d better go, or Grant will wonder what the hell we’re doing.”
He shifted me off his lap and started to stand up, but I grabbed hold of his hand.
“Don’t go, Sebastian, please. It doesn’t matter who knows now: I’m being sent home anyway. Let me spend my last few hours with you.”