Up in Arms - Page 52

Gingerly, Trevor pulled himself up against the headboard, pulling his leg up, tucking the pillows behind his back. Reed stayed close by, wanting to help judging by the look in his eyes, but allowed Trevor to do much of it on his own.

After a couple of minutes, Reed seemed satisfied Trevor was settled, and handed him the remote before leaving to retrieve their dinner. Flipping on the television, Trevor searched the channels while rotating his shoulder, carefully moving his left arm back and further. The best Trevor could tell, his left side was stiff but good and working reasonably well all things considered. Based on the little he knew, he felt like his first goal should be to get to the point of using crutches to get around.

CNN caught his attention. The anchor sat recapping his military raid and what they now knew from the Chinese authorities. Turning the volume up, Trevor listened closely. This was the first report he’d heard since the mission, and apparently China didn’t take their breeching the border too well, which really wasn’t all that unexpected. They also released statements to the United Nations that they had no knowledge the drug lord hid within their country’s borders. All the missing pieces began to fit together. He’d heard just bits of conversation in the hospital and from Anthony. Apparently, the President of the United States watched them through the helmet video during the raid. Trevor saw pictures of the situation room while the President and his cabinet sat watching the raid. He thought it was all pretty cool until it came to the report about the hurt soldier. The reporter knew an awful lot about him. They gathered quite a bit of information. They knew all his injuries, his amputation, his age, rank, marital status—pretty much everything but his name.

A panel of physicians trained in Trevor’s types of injuries split the screen, speculating about what it would take to amputate a leg while in the field. A military advisor spoke of the strain and emotional turmoil not only Trevor but his entire team as a result of the amputation. CNN reported Trevor left the German hospital early this morning and now stayed in an undisclosed location back in the states, and that his progress good. They also reported the military public relations department received thousands of inquiries, cards, and letters about his welfare.

Reed came through the bedroom door, carrying a tray of food. Two plates, napkins, silverware, and drinks were perched strategically on top. Clicking the volume down, his stomach growled at the smells coming from the plates. Trevor did love those homemade enchiladas from Reed’s mom, and his mouth began to water with anticipation.

“That smells delicious. Did she really make enough to feed an army? I seriously think I could eat that much,” Trevor said. Reed brought the tray to him, the legs of the tray fit perfect over his thighs. Reed took the minute to make sure he was situated before making his way to the other side of the bed.

“She did. And extra spicy. I need to remember my boyfriend likes it hot,” Reed said, giving him a wink while kicking off his shoes. Reed pushed himself onto the bed close to Trevor, resting his back against the headboard. They sat side by side now, mostly on his side of the bed.

“You need to eat to keep your energy up. Rehab starts tomorrow.” Reed picked up the napkin and placed it across his lap before moving the second plate from the tray onto his own lap. “What’re your thoughts on what you just heard?” he asked, pointing with his fork to the television, reaching for the remote with his other hand.

“It’s actually all pretty accurate, I think, at least from where I stood,” Trevor said, looking up as Reed turned the volume up a little.

“I started listening to part of this earlier. It’s a rebroadcast. I know what Rylie told me on the phone, but I was in the hospital with you. I haven’t heard all the details as of yet. You and your team are heroes, and no one will ever know who you are. None of the women or children were killed that night. Some were shot and injured, but so far no one has died. They show images of the men opening fire. I think that video probably came from your helmet. It looks like the angle you were in from what Rylie says.”

Trevor stayed quiet, listening to Reed and the television. Thoughts about the night surfaced. He remembered using his mirror to see the frightened children in the room, and the hate radiating from the men. Trevor just didn’t understand how things got so out of control to have grown men shooting at children. He lowered his head and bent forward a little, concentrating on his food, but he wasn’t eating. His mind couldn’t force away the image of the insurgent barreling into the room, opening fire. How did he not kill some of those children?

“Sexy, I have two thousand channels and rarely watch much TV. Let’s see what’s on. Do you have any favorite shows? You know, these are probably things I should learn about you.” Reed asked casually, effectively pulling Trevor from his thoughts. Reed’s last line was the perfect diversion. Trevor looked over at Reed, finally taking another bite. He paused. He wanted Reed to known how he truly felt about the mission and his job.

“We aren’t heroes. None of us see it that way at all. I look at guys like you and think you’re the hero. You save peoples’ lives every day. You saved mine at the expense of yourself. I just did a job I was trained and paid to do. That’s it. No man wants to see women and children hurt. Mendez kicked a pregnant woman in the stomach, he was gonna have to die because that was my job, but after I saw that, he needed to die sooner rather than later. The guy who opened fire on the room wasn’t targeting me, or Grisby in the other window. He came in to target those children. He needed to die too. It doesn’t make me a hero.”

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