“He’s at the field hospital near Camp Leatherneck, but I’m stuck 300 miles away in Kabul, and without papers. I can’t get to him. I know you think I’m a first class bitch and that I ruined his life, but I’m begging you, Ches, begging you… please, if there’s anything you or Mitch can do to get me there. I’m pulling in every favor I can think of, using every contact. I’ll do anything. If you know anyone, anyone at all… Please, Ches, please…”
“I’ll do what I can, Caroline,” he said in a stunned, quiet voice. “Give me the details.”
I told him everything I knew, which wasn’t much. But it was more than most people would have known in the same circumstances: and it was thanks to David.
I was sorely tempted to call my editor, but I suspected his immediate reaction would be to tell me to stay put until he got me on a flight home. He’d been shocked into silence when I’d told him the reason I was pulled out of Nowzad, and coming on top of what had happened to Liz, I didn’t know how much help he’d be. In fact I was pretty certain he’d try to block me getting back to Kandahar.
Desperate as I was to get to Sebastian, I had to think; I couldn’t just charge in. It even crossed my mind to try and speak to Natalie Arnaud: she worked for the UN – she might have contacts. I decided I would wait until morning before I tried my riskier avenues. By then David or Grant might have made some wheels spin, and I was damn sure that Ches and Mitch would pull every string they could.
I went back to my room, and packed up everything, ready to leave at a moment’s notice.
When there was nothing left to do, when every last bit of fight and determination had been used up, I lay on the bed clutching Sebastian’s ring, and wept.
They say there are no atheists in foxholes. I say there are no atheists when you’re begging God to keep alive the person you love.
At exactly 5.57 am I woke up and swore.
Damn it! Why hadn’t I thought of this last night? This was why it was important not to go to pieces in an emergency.
I checked my phone and sent up a silent prayer, thanking the saints of telecommunications.
“Sergeant Benson, this is Lee Venzi – you were my bodyguard last week.”
I could tell from his fuzzy voice that he’d been asleep when I rang.
“Miss Venzi?”
“I’m sorry I woke you up, and I’m sorry it’s so early, but I need your help. I’m in Kabul…”
“Kabul?”
“Yes, I’m back at the Mustafa Hotel. I got evac-ed from Leatherneck… it’s a long story. Look, I’ve just found that my… fiancé has been injured and I have to get back out there. Can you help me?”
He sounded wide awake now.
“I’m real sorry to hear that, Miss Venzi, but you’ll have to go through the usual channels: have your newspaper contact the Corps’ Division of Public Affairs and…”
“I don’t have time for that! Listen to me! He’s hurt really badly – I don’t know if he’ll… I have to get there. Please, sergeant… he’s one of your own – he’s a United States Marine.”
There was a silence at the end of the line. Then he said, “Give me three hours.”
Sergeant Benson was as good as his word.
I called Ches to let him know I was on the move, and promised to get in touch as soon as I had any further news.
A hundred-and-fifty minutes later, I was on my way back to Lashkar Gah. Sergeant Benson had moved heaven and earth to get me where I needed to be. I would never forget his kindness.
To say David was surprised to see me would be a vast understatement. But he didn’t waste any time asking me stupid questions either.
As soon as he saw me, he said, “He’s still alive, Caroline.”
“Thank God.”
Those brief words flooded through me, and some of the weight on my chest that had made it hurt to breathe, eased just a little.
He led me through a complex of tents and portable huts, and into what looked like the ICU department of a modern, urban hospital.
“He’s in here.”
The room was small and brightly lit. Sebastian lay on a hospital bed with a number of tubes and monitors attached to him. His left arm was elevated and he was breathing on a ventilator, his chest rising and falling in time with the machine. It was the only sign he was alive: he was so still and pale.
Below his waist, he was covered with a thin blanket which rose in a mound over the cage that protected his right leg.