Page 71 of Casualties of War
She took off her helmet, revealing her red hair. Her green eyes assessed him. “I left you safe in Hollywood. Why didn’t you stay there?”
* * * * *
Parris put her helmet back on.Business first, she reminded herself. “Odds on perimeter,” she told the men. “Evens, take fifteen. Water and rations.Odesky, can you check his wound? Looks superficial but plug him up, please.”
“Right.” Odesky slung his rifle and reached for the flat pack that lived in his thigh pocket. The five “odd” members of the team spread out, their backs to the center. They were on lookout. Everyone else dropped to the ground and pulled out water cans and ration packets.
Adán looked down at his chest, shock showing.When he saw no wound, he looked puzzled.
Odesky grinned as he stepped up to him. “Your arm, dude. You’ll feel it in a minute or two, when the adrenaline drops.”
Adán looked at his right arm then his left, where the bullet had ripped through the sleeve of his light jacket and clipped his arm. The blood had reached his hand.
“Jesus Maria…” Adán murmured, twisting his arm to see the wound better.
Odesky pulled at his other arm. “Come and sit down and let me look at it,” he suggested.
Adán moved away from the tree, peeling off the jacket.
Parris had forgotten how tall Adán was. His true height didn’t always show in the movies, which made all heroes look like giants. He was nearly six feet. Vistarians were tall, for Latinos.
As Adán sank to the ground, Odesky followed him down. Parrisparked herself right in front of both. There were questions to be answered yet.
“Hey, Captain, you really know this joker?” Donaldson asked, around a mouthful of jerky. He was the direct-question-asker of the group.
“Long story,” Parris assured him. Her heart gave an extra little beat.Ifshe told them anything, the story would be heavily edited.
“She arrested me at a Hollywood party, yearsago,” Adán said.
That was something she could live with her unit knowing. She nodded. “He was so disgusted by my Spanish, he gave me lessons for a while.”
“Shit, you speak Spanish better than a Mexican,” Ramirez said, whose parents were from Tijuana.
“Not then, I didn’t,” Parris assured them. “Will he live, Odesky?”
“Straight slice through the meat, nothing vital,” Odesky said, straighteningup from inspecting the wound and wiping it clear. “Antibiotic cream and a bandage. Maybe a painkiller.”
“No, nothing that will make me drowsy,” Adán said. “I have to reach Pascuallita.”
“You’re not going anywhere near that place,” Parris shot back. “There are Insurrectos crawling all over it. More than usual.”
Adán looked at her, a brow lifting. “Is that why you were heading there? Were thethree Insurrectos going there, too? What’s happening there?”
Parris considered him. “Whyareyou here?” she demanded, because answering his questions directly would break with security protocol.
“Why areyouhere?” Adán replied, his tone sharp.
Parris realized everyone, including the perimeter guards, was listening with avid curiosity. Why wouldn’t they? This was Adán Caballero, film star andaction hero. Shit, they had streamedSilva Saviorthe night before shipping out here.
Only, if her tough as nails unit were waiting for the action hero to prove he was a lily livered weakling afraid of his own shadow, they were in for a shock.
“Why we’re here is classified,” Parris told Adán. “Why you’re here is a different—”
“President Collins wouldn’t commit to supporting the Loyalists ashe said he would,” Adán said, cutting her off. “So you’re here unofficially. Is that why I can’t go to Pascuallita?”
“The placeiscrawling with Insurrectos,” Parris assured him. “And the President did not say he would support the Loyalists.”
“I was in the car with him when he said it,” Adán replied.
