He set his back teeth as they settled his brother’s corpse into its earthen cradle.
The cleric’s droning words of prayer drifted past him.
All he could think about was holding Hassan’s shrapnel-riddled body as he lay dying.
No one had lifted a finger to help him or ease his pain, because his life had not been of value to the enemy.
Sadiq’s blistered hands balled into fists.
He could still smell the warm blood mixing with the dust.
Mourners began filling the grave.
They used their hands as well as shovels, buckets and trowels.
The only tools these poor farmers had.
They lived in poverty, yet most of the extra money his brother had earned smuggling guns and opium had gone toward sending Sadiq to a better life in Europe.
That’s how much Hassan had loved him.
His brother had not wanted him to suffer the same kind of bleak, harsh existence that he had been sentenced to.
In the end, that same heroic effort had killed him.
Sadiq covered his brother with shovelfuls of the crumbling Pakistani soil he’d struggled to eke a living from.
Thank you, Hassan.
May Allah bestow his blessings upon you.
He made sure the earth was not packed too tightly, for Hassan would have to be able to sit up when the time came for him to undergo the angels’ questioning.
Sadiq had no doubt his brother would answer each question correctly and earn his swift passage into paradise.
His body would then join his soul when Allah called all true Muslims home on the Day of Resurrection.
The raw blisters on Sadiq’s palms burned from when he’d dug the grave.
He ignored the pain and kept shoveling until he was satisfied he’d mounded the dirt high enough to deter any scavenging jackals.
The crowd of mourners ended the final dirge as he finished, then one by one left the graveside.
He stared at it, frozen, until his grandmother approached and laid her gnarled fingers on his sleeve.
He did not protest her presence because she was a pure woman, many years past the chance of monthly bleeding that would have tainted Hassan’s grave.
“Come,” she whispered.
He shook his head, watched her give a final blessing to her dead grandson and hobble down the hill toward the tiny village where he had been born.
She disappeared over the crest of the hill, her back bent over from a life of hard labor and birthing too many babies.
It depressed him.
Almost half of the children born here did not survive infancy.
Sadiq stayed long after she had gone.
A deep hole remained inside him, as dark and empty as it had been the day of his brother’s death.
No.
More so.
Before that day he’d been a moderate living in the west among the unbelievers.
Now he was hardened because of what the Americans had done to his family.
“I know what I have to do,” he said to Hassan, for his brother’s soul was still nearby.
Sadiq hated the bitterness filling his heart.
A worthy Muslim would not question the teachings in the Quran.
Death was predetermined by Allah, meant to be accepted without condition.
Sadiq knew he could never accept Hassan’s death.
His brother had died unnaturally, shedding his life’s blood into the soil of their homeland while the enemy stood by and watched.
Retribution was necessary.
Without it, Hassan’s soul would forever wander between heaven and earth.
Trapped as his mortal body was now trapped beneath the ground.
Sadiq would not let that happen.
With the wind whipping up more tears in his eyes, he knelt and laid a hand over the mounded soil.
“I will make this right, brother,” he vowed softly.
Allah must have heard him, because the next gust that blew over him was warm as the spring rains.
Bagram Airfield, Afghanistan
Three weeks later
Devon had already served at Bagram, but it was still a shock to realize how big the remote base was when she landed.
Stepping off the tail ramp of the C-17 Globemaster with all her gear, she looked around in awe at the small city before her.
“Home sweet home,” Will said beside her, lugging his own duffel.
“Looks a hell of a lot better than it did after the Russians used it.”
“Does it ever.” She scanned for her friend Candace, who’d been there for over a month on her own tour as an Air Force Spectre pilot.
She’d also contacted Ryan and Cam, but only a few hours before her flight to Germany so they wouldn’t have a chance to reply.
Almost a month had passed since Ty’s funeral, but her feelings for Cam hadn’t faded.
She wasn’t sure she was ready to see him again quite yet.
She thought of the emblem she was cross-stitching, tucked away safely with her gear.
She had stitched Ty’s name above the Pararescue angel with her spread wings surrounding the globe, and beneath, the words
That Others May Live
.
She’d done almost half of it on the flight over, but she’d finish it on her down time between exercises and missions.
Part of her wasn’t ready to let him go yet.
Following the throng of fellow soldiers, she made her way into one of the large administrative buildings and waited in line to get squared away.
Leaving Will to find his own quarters, she headed across the base to where the housing was located.
Bagram was fully equipped to look after all the service members stationed there, and had all kinds of amenities, even a Burger King tractor-trailer.
Anything was an improvement from what the first Americans had found here back at the start of the war on terror.
Devon noted signs with red triangles that still lined the edge of the roads, warning people of uncleared terrain outside the security fences.
Ahead of her, a group of women came out of another building.
One was tall and blond, and her leggy stride had Devon craning her neck to make out the woman’s distant profile.
She caught the blonde’s distinctively husky laugh as it floated through the air.
“Ace!”
Candace stopped and whipped her head around.
Her eyes opened in wide surprise and a huge smile broke over her pretty face.
“Spike!” She ran across the pavement, and Devon had barely enough time to drop her bags before her friend all but tackled her.
Candace squeezed her tight before stepping back to look at her.
“I didn’t think you’d be in already!
You look great, by the way.
Love the short do,” she said, ruffling Devon’s inverted bob.
“Fits better under my helmet this way.” Dev laughed.
“I was just trying to get my bearings again.
Wanna show me to my new digs?”
“And I happen to know just where they are.” She hefted a bag over her shoulder and put her free arm around Devon’s waist.
“I arranged it so we’re roomies.”
“How did you manage that?”
“It’s no biggie.
Two of the other girls in our hut are Army, so you’ll be in good company.
And there are your new best friends,” she said, gesturing to the group she’d been walking with.
“Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
Dragged along in the wake of her friend’s longer legs, Devon smiled at the three women waiting on the road, watching them.
“Everybody, this is Devon Crawford.
Dev, this is Maya Lopez, a Security Forces officer,” she said, indicating a honey-skinned woman about Dev’s height with dark straight hair and striking blue-green eyes.
They shook hands.
“This is Erin Kelly, an Army flight nurse.”
“Hi,” the brunette said softly.
Her smile was a bit on the shy side, but she seemed friendly.
“And this is Honor Girard, the Army’s best mechanic on this base.”
“I try,” Honor said with a grin, tossing her cap of strawberry blond hair.
Candace grabbed the dropped bag and took Devon’s elbow.
“Okay, pleasantries aside—let’s get this girl squared away and get some chow into her.”
Devon rolled her eyes as her friend dragged her along.
“Some things never change, I guess.
Ace likes to think she’s my keeper.”
“Yeah,” Maya answered, her dry tone holding the faintest trace of a Latin accent.
“We’ve noticed she’s a bit bossy.”
The group walked her to the forty by fifteen foot B-hut she was going to call home for the next few months.
Eight iron-framed bunk-style beds filled the putty-colored room, four against each wall.
“Bathrooms and showers are across the way,” Candace said, pointing out the window toward the narrow street.
Well, it was better than tenting.
Devon took the bunk on the far end against the opposite wall.
She stowed her gear, listening to the chatter of her new roommates before following them back past the huge Exchange building to the chow hall where they got in line.
She picked out British, Canadian, Aussie and German uniforms in the crowd as she scanned the room, a lingering excitement fluttering in her belly that Cam might be there.
Or was it nerves?
They felt pretty much the same to her.
“So,” Maya said beside her, “Ace tells us you fly Hawks.”
“That’s right.
Medevacs mostly,” she added, smiling at the female private who dished food onto their plates from the metal warming trays.
“Your job sounds interesting.
What got you into that line of work?”
Maya shrugged, her long dark hair rippling over her shoulders.
“I always wanted to serve.
I figured this might be my ticket to getting into the FBI or The Agency one day.” She grabbed a dinner roll from a basket.
“I’ll stick to flying, thanks.” Balancing her tray of chicken, mashed potatoes and steamed veggies with one hand while she grabbed a bottle of water with the other, Devon made her way through the sea of long tables.
The food was a bit on the bland side, but it was hot and nourishing.
Finishing a mouthful, she glanced around her group.
“Anyone bumped into any PJs here?”
Candace flicked an amused glance at Maya, who scowled and stabbed a piece of carrot with her fork.
“Yeah, there’s one over there,” Maya said, jerking her chin to the left and then muttering something in Spanish Devon couldn’t make out.
Swiveling in her seat, Devon looked around and caught a well-built man with dark hair and even darker eyes gazing at them.
He gave a polite smile when he saw her, then quickly looked away.
She didn’t recognize him, and there was no sign of Cam.
The acute disappointment she felt took her aback.
Forcing it from her mind, she switched her attention back to Maya, who still had a sour expression on her face.
“What, you don’t like him or something?”
Almond-shaped turquoise eyes focused on her.
“He annoys me,” she said with a wave of her fork.
“Always staring but won’t say a word.
Besides, he’s enlisted.”
“She calls him Tweedle Dumb,” Candace put in between bites, and the others snickered.
“His name’s Jackson,” Erin said.
“I’ve met him a couple of times in the hospital.
He’s really nice, just quiet,” she added in his defense, sending Maya a hard look.
Maya shrugged.
“Then you tell him to stop staring at me.
He’s not my type.”
“You have a type?” Honor asked from across the table.
Maya shot her a withering look.
“Yes, and apart from not being a creepy stalker, he has to at least be able to string a few words together.”
Wow.
The woman was more prickly than Ace, and that was saying something.
Devon wasn’t sure what to think of her.
Candace bumped her with an elbow, though her eyes held a note of empathy.
“Why’d you ask about the PJs, anyhow?”
“Oh, it’s just that a friend of mine is doing another tour here.”
“What’s his name?” Erin asked.
“Tech Sergeant Cam Munro.”
Erin frowned as she thought for a moment.
“Is he tall and built, with light brown hair—”
“Dark blond.” The picture the other woman’s words painted of him sent a shockwave of heat rushing through her.
Warm, hard muscle and a killer lopsided smile that had the power to make her weak in the knees.
Her throat went so dry she almost couldn’t swallow her food.
“But, yes,” she managed to croak.
Candace set down her silverware and grinned at her like an evil cat.
“Really?
Well now, this is interesting.
How good a
friend
is he?”
Her cheeks flushed as she lowered her eyes and forked up another bite of chicken.
“It’s not like that.
He’s just a friend.
I met him through Ty.”
Candace immediately lost her cocky attitude.
“I heard about what happened.
I’m sorry.”
Devon nodded but didn’t answer.
“Ty as in Tyler Bradshaw?
Wasn’t he a PJ as well?” Erin asked.
PJ groupie,
an inner voice accused.
She cleared her throat.
“Yes.
I dated him for a short while before he deployed here.” And now they were naming a street after him here on the base.
So everyone would remember him and the sacrifice he’d made.
“Under the radar, obviously,” Candace said.
“Very under the radar.” She still felt conflicted about that.
She should have broken things off cleanly, and way sooner than she had.
Instead, she’d waited until he’d gone overseas to let things fizzle out.
Her lame attempt not to hurt him.
“I’m sorry.” Erin’s clear green eyes were full of sincerity.
“I didn’t know him well, but everyone seemed to like him.
I heard he was really brave out there.”
“Yeah.
I heard that too.” And she knew he had been.
Without a doubt Ty would have given his all to protect the others.
Just as Cam would if it came to that.
All part of the Pararescue code of conduct.
Devon pushed her plate away, suddenly unable to eat another bite.
“I saw your friend the other day,” Erin put in.
“He was going out as I was coming in with a patient.”
Stupid of her stomach to clench up, but Devon couldn’t stop worrying about him and Ryan.
“I’m sure I’ll cross paths with him eventually.” And she dreaded that moment almost as much as she was dying for it.
“Well,” said Maya as she raised her bottle of water toward her lips, “if you do see him, maybe you could ask him to get his PJ pal to keep his eyes to himself.”
“I’ll try to remember,” Devon promised, sharing a grin with Erin.
As she was getting up to clear her place, she spotted a familiar face at the next table over.
“Liam!” she called, setting her tray down to wave.
His dark head turned and a big grin broke over his hard face when he saw her.
Laughing, Devon rounded the end of her table and rushed over to hug him.
He squeezed her tight.
“What the hell are you doing back over here, Spike?”
“Following orders, Major.” She eyed his flight suit.
“Just coming in, or going out?”
“In.
Thought I’d grab a bite before I hit the rack.”
“They still got you flying Chinooks?”
“Yep, and I know you’re jealous.” His blue eyes twinkled.
“You on the 60?”
She nodded.
“With Will.
Have you seen him by the way?
We’re supposed to be at a briefing at nineteen hundred.”
“Sorry, haven’t seen him.” His eyes flickered to the table she’d just vacated, but then he looked away fast, some indiscernible expression crossing his face.
“They’ve got me out pretty much every night, but maybe I’ll bump into you at the Exchange sometime.
You owe me a game of pool as I recall.”
She cocked a brow.
“You want your ass handed to you in front of all your buddies?”
Liam laughed.
“Good to see the flight from Germany didn’t slow your mouth down.” He tweaked her nose.
“See you around, kid.”
The others watched her silently as she made her way back to the table.
“That was Liam,” she explained when they all kept staring at her.
“He’s with the Night Stalkers, flying Chinooks.” They still stared.
What, like they didn’t know about the fabled Night Stalkers?
Maya arched a dark brow.
“You sure know a lot of guys around here for someone that just got in.”