Scourge: V Plague Book 14 Page 3

  I wasn’t sure how to answer that question, so I didn’t.

  “What did you do this evening?” I asked instead.

  She scooted closer, draping her arm across me and resting her head on my chest.

  “Checked on Igor and Vance. Had dinner with Irina and the girls. Gonzales and Nicole were there. She’s still wearing the glasses you gave her.”

  “How’re Igor and Vance?” I asked, shifting my arm until it was around her shoulders.

  “Igor’s good. Sore and bruised, but all the X-rays they took are negative. He’s on IV antibiotics and should be discharged in a day or two if an infection doesn’t pop up. Vance will be okay, but the Doc’s worried about nerve damage from when he was cut open.”

  “Nerve damage?” I asked, turning to look at her, our faces only inches apart.

  “The worst kind, for him,” she said. “He might not ever be able to get an erection again.”

  “Ouch,” I said. “Talk about hitting someone where they live!”

  “Good whiskey?” Rachel asked when she smelled my breath.

  “Only top shelf for the Admiral,” I said, looking into her eyes.

  “Too bad,” she said.

  “What?” I asked, confused.

  She hesitated a moment before continuing.

  “Tonight was going to be the night, but you’re not sober. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret in the morning.”

  We lay there like that for nearly a minute, staring into each other’s eyes. Slowly, my hand trailed down her back and I realized she was naked. Moving my head, I kissed her deeply.

  “There won’t be any regrets,” I said when our lips parted.

  Rolling over, I faced her and pulled her into my arms and threw the sheet off the bed.

  “Glad to see you don’t have any nerve damage,” she chuckled, throwing her leg over my hips.

  4

  I woke the next morning to brilliant sunshine flooding the room. Rachel’s head was pillowed on my chest, a tangle of her thick hair tickling my nose. She was snoring softly, rolled against me with her arm across my stomach and one leg thrown over mine.

  Dog somehow knew I was awake, coming to my side of the bed and resting his chin on the mattress to stare at me. I ruffled his ears, sure he needed to go out, but I wasn’t ready to move. It was just too damn comfortable lying here with Rachel. The sheet was still on the floor and I looked down the length of her nude form. Caught myself comparing her to Katie. That made me uncomfortable, and more than a little irritated at myself.

  Katie had been beautiful, and so was Rachel. If you tried to force me to tell you which one I thought was better, you’d fail. I couldn’t. They were just different. Lying there, I stared at the ceiling and was glad I hadn’t lied to her the night before. There weren’t any regrets. There wasn’t any guilt. Only sadness that Katie was gone. But at the same time, there was happiness that Rachel was here.

  But did that mean she was just a substitute? A replacement? Gritting my teeth, I mentally chastised myself for even having those thoughts. Maybe there was still some guilt rolling around in my heart, but that didn’t change how I felt about Rachel. Those feelings were genuine. Of that, there was no doubt. And I was certain of one thing…

  “Good morning,” Rachel said, snuggling closer and burrowing her face against my neck.

  I kissed her on top of the head.

  “Sleep well?” I asked, gently stroking her back.

  “Mmmm hmmm. You?”

  “Like a rock,” I said.

  “Yes, you were,” she teased.

  Dog was back, this time putting his front paws onto the edge of the bed and ramming his cold, wet nose into my hip. I pushed him away and gave Rachel another kiss.

  “The baby needs to go out,” I said, still not in any hurry to move.

  “He can wait,” Rachel said, running her hand across my stomach.

  Every inch of me tingled at her touch, and I was reaching for her as Dog leapt onto the bed and flopped on top of me.

  “Damn it, Dog,” I said, reflexively drawing my legs up to protect a very sensitive area. “Get down!”

  Instead, he sneezed, spraying my face. Grumbling, I gave him a shove as Rachel released me and sat up, laughing.

  “I think he’s jealous,” she said.

  “Well, he’d better get over it,” I groused, standing up and digging sweats and a T-shirt out of the closet.

  “Does that mean this is going to happen again?” Rachel asked, batting her eyes like a B-movie queen.

  “Not if you keep doing that,” I said, opening the door.

  Dog dashed outside, stopping to check for yesterday’s lizard. I guess no matter how bad you need to go, it can wait if there’s the possibility of catching the one that got away. I let him do his thing, lighting a cigarette and waiting for him to get on with it. Finally, he either gave up or the urgency of a biological function won out. There was a break in the hedge large enough for him to squeeze through and he headed out onto the pristine lawn, nose to the ground.

  Crap. I’d gotten so used to being in the field that I’d forgotten where we were. He was about to shit a mountain in the middle of a picture-perfect stretch of green grass on a military base. That’s generally not looked on too kindly. Tugging the door open, I hollered at Rachel to find me a plastic bag. A minute later, she stepped out, wrapped in the bed sheet, and handed me a plastic shower cap from the bathroom.

  “Best I could find,” she said. “Why do you need it?”

  I just pointed at where Dog was busily scratching at the ground with his hind legs, kicking small blades of grass on top of the giant present he’d just deposited.

  “Good God!” Rachel said. “What’s he been eating?”

  “Looks like an entire cow,” I said, handing her the half-smoked cigarette and squeezing through the hedge.

  Dog stood a few feet away, watching as I cleaned up after him. Maybe not, but I swear he was laughing. With ten pounds of warm dog shit in a shower cap, I looked around for a trash can. There was no way in hell I was taking this stinking mess back into my quarters. Spotting one near the parking lot, almost a hundred yards away, I jogged across the lawn and gratefully dropped it in. I kind of felt sorry for the Seaman who had to empty it.

  “So that’s how the Army starts their day. Good training for ground pounders!”

  I looked up to find Commander Sherman, the SEAL from dinner the night before, standing at the edge of the pavement. He wore a gleaming white uniform, the SEAL trident on his breast catching the sun.

  “Knew I should have saved it,” I said. “Gotta be a sailor somewhere that needs a brain transplant, and this would be an upgrade.”

  Sherman grinned and stepped forward, extending his hand, then pulled it back at the last second.

  “Sorry,” he said, looking at the trash can. “I mean… you were just…”

  “Yeah,” I chuckled. “No worries. What’s up? Thought we weren’t meeting until oh-eight-hundred.”

  “We’re not. I was in the area and thought I’d see if you wanted to grab breakfast. Give us a chance to talk. Just the two of us.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Give me ten minutes to shower. Where will you be?”

  “I’ll wait at reception,” he said.

  I waved, whistled for Dog, who had managed to tree something, and jogged back to my quarters.

  “Who was that you were talking to?” Rachel asked when I stepped inside.

  “SEAL,” I said, stripping off my clothes and heading for the bathroom. “Wants to talk before our meeting.”

  “What meeting?” Rachel asked, following me in.

  I pushed her out and closed the door so I could relieve myself in private. When I flushed, she opened the door and came back in. Grinning, I shook my head and cranked on the shower.

  “What meeting?” she asked again.

  “Planning for going after Barinov,” I said. “And that does not leave this room. Understand?”

  “The Navy
’s going after him?” she asked in surprise.

  I had two choices here. Answer with a yes, which was technically the truth, or give her all the details, including my desire to be included in the operation. I opted for the shorter answer. Not that I wanted to keep things from her, or not be completely open, but I didn’t have time for the conversation she’d insist on having if I told her everything.

  “So, you don’t have to go to Australia?” she asked, still not convinced.

  “The SEALs are adamant that they don’t want me there,” I said, again telling the technical truth.

  “Good!”

  She smiled, dropped the sheet to the floor and stepped into the large shower with me.

  “Great idea, bad timing,” I said, rinsing soap off. “I’ve gotta go!”

  Rachel leaned in and gave me a lingering kiss before slapping my bare ass. Fuck it. The squid could wait! Fifteen minutes later I stepped out of the shower onto a plush rug, leaving Rachel leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath.

  “Gotta be careful what I start,” she said, smiling.

  I grinned at her as I quickly toweled off.

  “Can you do me a favor today?”

  “Thought I already did.”

  I couldn’t resist the laugh that bubbled up.

  “You did! But I need some clean uniforms. Can you talk to the Senior Chief and see if you can get me a couple more sets, and find out about laundry? Also, we need some plastic bags for cleaning up after the crap hound. Do you mind?”

  “Look, buster,” she called as I headed into the bedroom to put on my last clean uniform. “Just because we’re back in civilization, don’t think I’m going to suddenly become the little woman that takes care of the laundry. I’ll do it this time, but you’re a big boy. Figure it out for yourself!”

  “Thanks,” I said, returning to the bathroom and sitting on the closed toilet to pull my boots on. “I’ll ride with the SEAL and leave the driver for you. But stay on base. I’ve got no idea what things are like outside the gates. Okay?”

  “You worry more than an old woman, you know that?” Rachel asked, turning off the shower.

  I tossed her a towel and worked on getting the right blouse on my pant legs into the tops of the boots.

  “Actually, I was thinking about going to the hospital and seeing if they could use any help,” she said.

  Boots tied, I stood up and looked at her, smiling.

  “I think that would be great,” I said. “Dinner tonight? I’ll stop by when I’m done. Want to see Igor and Vance, anyway.”

  “Yes,” she said, stepping close and pressing her wet body against my fresh uniform.

  I didn’t care. Well, not that much. Holding her close, I kissed her, pulling away before I got distracted and left Commander Sherman sitting in reception for the next hour.

  “I love you,” Rachel whispered, looking at my good eye.

  “I love you, too,” I said after a brief pause.

  And it felt good to say it.

  5

  Sherman was waiting for me in the reception area, leaning on the Senior Chief’s station watching television with him. He straightened up as I approached, made a point of checking his watch and led the way outside. We climbed into a Humvee and he drove a short couple of blocks before turning into the parking lot for a Starbucks.

  I sat staring at the green and white sign after he shut the engine off. It’s common for commercial businesses to be on a military base, that wasn’t what was bothering me. It was the shock of normalcy as I watched men and women in uniform walking out the door with freshly made drinks to start their day.

  “You okay?”

  The SEAL was standing outside the vehicle, giving me an odd look. I nodded and stepped out.

  “Been living in the apocalypse for the past several months,” I muttered. “All of this is a bit disconcerting.”

  “Know what you mean,” he said. “Did a couple of back to backs in Afghanistan. When I got home, I couldn’t go into a grocery store for a week. It was just too weird. But it gets better.”

  “Dealt with it before, too,” I said. “It’s just that in the past, I always knew there was a home to come back to. This time, home was gone. Guess I’d gotten used to it more than I realized.”

  “Look,” he said when I didn’t take a step closer to the small building. “Not a big deal. Let’s go get some chow.”

  “Get your coffee,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll be fine right here until you get back.”

  I fished out a cigarette and lit it without looking at him. After a long moment, he nodded and strode across the parking lot. I stood there, watching him disappear inside, smoking and more than a little upset at myself for not being stronger.

  “Sir?”

  I turned to find a young Navy MP standing a few feet away. I hadn’t heard her pull up and park behind Sherman’s Humvee.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “Smoking on base is only permitted in designated areas.”

  I looked at her in surprise, then nodded and bent down to stub out the nearly whole cigarette on the asphalt.

  “Wait!” she said. “You’re Major Chase, aren’t you?”

  “I am,” I said, wondering where this was going.

  She hesitated for a moment, then gave me a smile.

  “You go right ahead and smoke wherever the hell you want, sir,” she said. “Sorry I bothered you.”

  I tried not to let my mouth hang open in surprise when she did a quick about face and climbed into her idling vehicle. She waved, then drove away.

  “What was that about?” Sherman asked as he came to stand next to me.

  “She stopped to give me a warning about smoking in a non-designated area, then recognized me and told me to do whatever I wanted. What the hell?”

  Sherman took a sip of his coffee and chuckled.

  “You really don’t get it, do you?”

  “Get what?” I asked, turning to face him.

  “Damn but you grunts are thick,” he said, smiling. “You’re a goddamn hero, Major! Probably the only one we’ve got these days. There are more stories circulating about you than I can even say, and there was a big, front page article about you in the Navy Times this morning.”

  “You gotta be kidding me!”

  I didn’t feel like a hero. Didn’t want to be thought of as one. I’d lost too many people I cared about. Heroes don’t do that.

  “Yeah, now that I’ve met you, I kind of see that it’s all bullshit,” he said. “To hear the scuttlebutt, you’re ten feet tall, can kill a Russian with your pinky, and you eat rocks and shit steel.”

  I looked at him and he nodded to confirm what he’d said.

  “Ain’t no fuckin’ hero,” I grumbled, stripping my smoke and getting back into the Hummer.

  He looked at me for a beat, then walked around and got behind the wheel. We headed out across the sprawling base, Sherman sipping his drink as he drove. After several minutes of climbing away from the harbor, the road transitioned from pavement to dirt and he slowed for a manned gate. Two MPs peered through the windshield, then one of them snapped a smart salute and waved us through.

  “Thought we were going to breakfast,” I said.

  “We are,” he said, but didn’t offer any other details.

  The road wound farther up into the hills and I could hear the occasional sound of gunfire from ahead. It wasn’t hard to figure out that we were in a training area. Rounding a bend, Sherman pulled to a stop next to dozen civilian vehicles. Beyond was a pistol and rifle range, a couple of roughly constructed buildings to the side. A red light on top of a tall pole was flashing, warning that a live fire exercise was in progress.

  We got out and I followed Sherman to where half a dozen men stood watching the training. It was a designated observation area that overlooked the kill houses. There was no roof on either, and in one of them I could see a team of SEALs shredding targets as they practiced clearing the structure. They were moving well, as a unit, and i
nter-service rivalries aside, I had to admit these guys were damn good.

  “They’re getting ready to go to Australia,” Sherman said to me in a low voice. “That house is built to the plans we could find of the apartment Barinov is living in.”

  “They look good,” I said.

  “They’re the best,” one of the observers said.

  Dressed in jeans and a Motley Crue T-Shirt, he was roughly my size, close to my age, and built like a tank. He turned to face me and extended his hand.

  “Master Chief Daryl Baldwin,” he said as I shook his. “What’d you do to your eye?”

  “Bullet hit my rifle’s receiver and fragmented. Piece of it wound up in my head.”

  “Like the patch,” he grinned. “Makes you look like a fuckin’ pirate. Just need a gold hoop in your ear.”

  “Nah,” a heavily inked man called. “That’s a goddamn sissy pirate! Get that big bald head tattooed. Now that would be badass! You wanna get it done, Major, I got a guy in town that’s fuckin’ Michelangelo. Just let me know!”

  I grinned, imagining Rachel’s reaction if I showed up with my head covered in ink.

  “Where’s Chucky?” Sherman asked. “He’s bringing the food, right?”

  “Slow ass bitch should be here, boss,” someone answered as a horn sounded to end the exercise.

  The SEALs in the kill house spent a few minutes huddled, going over their performance with each other, then walked up the hill to where we were standing. I was introduced and shook hands all around, but didn’t remember anyone’s name after it was over.

  “Where’s Chucky?” the tall man who had led the team through the exercise asked.

  “Slow ass bitch is late,” half a dozen men said at the same time.

  “Well, hell’s bells,” the leader said, then looked at me. “Wanna shred some targets?”

  “Thought you’d never ask,” I said with a grin, accepting the rifle he held out.

  Twenty minutes later I stood in a loose circle as the SEAL leader reviewed the two exercises I’d just participated in.

  “You sure you’re Army and not a squid in disguise?” he asked with a grin.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Tried to join the Navy, but the uniform didn’t fit right. Too tight for my balls.”