Page 3 of Angels & Whiskey
He smiled. “I found you in the shitter. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Good. We’ll be right behind you.” I grabbed Alyssa’s hand and halted her as Jackson continued walking down the hall. “One down and one to go.” I smiled and kissed her cherry lips.
“Stone won’t be a problem. Tonight I’ll show you how happy I am to finally tell people.”
“I like the sound of that. But real quick … Since you want to marry me, what shape of diamonds do you like?”
“What?” she asked, scrunching her eyebrows.
“In your game of Fuck, Marry, Kill, what ring would you hope I’d give you?”
She laughed. “You’re silly.”
“Just tell me. We don’t have time for you to question me.”
“I don’t know. I’d never really given it much thought. I’d like any ring you’d give me.”
“All right. Good to know. Let’s go so we can get back and tell Jackson and Stone. Then I can take my time tasting you and not have to worry about anyone catching us.” I kissed her again before we joined the rest of the crew.
The crew chatted about what was happening in the current episode ofLostas we made our way to our coordinates. My thoughts were only of Alyssa. I couldn’t wait for tonight so I could take my time making love to her somewhere other than a supply closet.
I stared at her as she laughed with Stone, the desert sand behind her, and I envisioned her in a bikini laying on the beach in Hawaii. I hated Afghanistan. I wanted to be back on American soil with the Pacific Ocean in the distance.
When we finally touched down, the helicopter caused the sand to blow around us. Every day I found sand in places on my body it didn’t belong. It felt as if I could never be one hundred percent clean no matter how hard I scrubbed.
The popping of gunfire could be heard in the distance as we made our way from the bird. Heads down, gear in hand, we made it to the soldiers that were covered in crimson blood. After Cochran and Stone had patched up the bullet holes on each soldier with enough gauze so we could transport them back to base, the crew and I strapped them on the gurneys. I faintly heard the gunfire getting closer as we stood.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
“I thought you said dispatch radioed there were no enemy troops in the area?” I asked Jackson.
“That’s what the 9-Line said.”
Usually dispatch was correct when they’d called in a 9-Line MEDEVAC request for us. They’d tell us where the location was, how many patients, if we needed special equipment … Nine items to prepare us. Obviously they were wrong this time.
“We need to move. They’re getting closer.”
The wind kicked up, blowing the rough sand in the air and making it hard to see our own hands in front of our eyes. I fucking hated Afghanistan.
The gunfire got louder.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
“Let’s move!”
Jackson radioed base. “Charlie Tango, this is Delta Sky. We have enemy fire and we’re being ambushed. Send backup, stat.”
My crew and I picked up the two gurneys and began running toward the helicopter. The gunfire was close as we slid one gurney in.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
“Cap!” Jackson yelled.
I looked back seeing enemy troops in the distance, the wind dying down enough to see them crouch and take aim.
Before we could pull our weapons, they fired.
“Get this gurney in!” I snapped, drawing my gun and covering my crew.
