W
e’re jostled closer together as the windowless Stryker we can’t see out of bumps down the road. I watch Beaux as she takes in everything about the confined space: the soldiers’ faces, the gear they’re weighted down with, their fingers resting loosely on their weapons.
I try to put myself in her shoes, remember how I felt the first time I did this, and yet all I can think of is the look on her face and the hitch in her breath in the stairwell. Hell yes, I’m pumped to be on this mission, but I use the image of her to settle the antsy feeling causing my knee to jog up and down and fingers to fidget with my gear.
When I glance over at Beaux, I take in the way her hair is braided under the advanced combat helmet, and visually check to make sure her modular body armor vest is on properly – items required by Sarge, but I would have made her put them on if he hadn’t.
A harsh bump jostles us so that my elbow raps smartly off the metal behind me, and I know that if I’ve been thrown around, her small frame has to have experienced worse. Our eyes meet as the thought crosses through my mind, and although I see the grimace on her face, I also see the thrill in her eyes. And that thrill mixed with her flushed cheeks and devilish smirk tells me she gets this, gets me, in a way that so many others can’t.
She feels this same buzz in her body right now, that razor edge of not knowing what’s going to happen next, of the possible danger that lies just around the corner and rather than run from it, we’re heading straight into it. It heightens everything – your senses, your instinct, your emotions – to the point where you’re practically high on it like a narcotic. And hell no, we’re nowhere near as brave as the soldiers who surround us because they are the ones going face-to-face with this beast, whoever it may be, head-on, while we are on the sidelines reporting. But at the same time, this is as close as any civilians can get.
“You ready?” I mouth the words to her since my voice would be drowned out by the sounds of this mass of metal surrounding us moving at high speeds.
A slight smile – part nerves, part excitement – spreads over her lips and her hands grip tighter to her camera bag, and it’s a silly thought but I love that I get to share her first embed mission with her. I’m about to say something else to her when Sarge’s voice from the right of me, loud and booming above the other sounds, fills my ears.
“So we have five units moving in. Different approaches. We’re hitting a small town where we believe one of the couriers lives. He’s delivering messages between the top officials to the midlevel. We find him, we get one step closer to knowing when and where the big meet is going to happen,” he says, confirming my hunch as to why the mission is occurring.
“When we get there, you two will stay with Rosco over there,” he says, pointing to the guy next to Beaux. “He’ll be your babysitter.” He chuckles before carrying on about what is to be expected when we reach our destination.
“The military officials aren’t really saying, Bob. The only information we are allowed to report at this time is that the mission was considered successful. What exactly we’re looking at for measure of success is currently unknown, but they do believe the commanders have acquired the information they were looking for. Beyond that, details are slim,” I report to the lead anchor as I juggle my notes since we finished in perfect timing to hit the tail end of the evening news.
The rush from being part of the military raid only intensifies since I know that my report is not only live on Worldwide News right now but since I’m the only journalist here, it’s probably going to be picked up by other stations. Take that, I say silently to Rafe and the higher-ups questioning whether I could still do my job properly.