‘And if they shoot you?’ someone asked, from the back of the tent.
‘Well, in that case we have the right to engage.’ He paused, then clarified, ‘To fire back.’
But Bridget was already gripping the metal table behind her, trying to stop this sensation that she was suddenly free-falling into nothingness.
If the rebels shot at Hayden and his men, it changed the parameters. How had she not realised that before? There would be a gunfight...or what had he called it? A firefight? It wasn’t unrealistic to consider that he might get injured.
Killed.
Nausea raced to meet her.
She was an idiot. She’d let herself get too close to him. Too invested. Despite everything she’d told herself. And now she was terrified he was going to confront a group of rebels and he could get hurt.
Worse.
Yet this was his job. It was what he did. What he loved doing. She had no right to wish that she could stop him. No right to wish that he would want stay...with her.
‘Can’t you build a compound around this facility?’ She fought to drag her mind hack the present.
‘We can, but in this short time it won’t be big enough, or secure enough, to encompass all the medical tents, the new generators, and all the tukul accommodation.’
Her stomach pulled tight and twisted as she listened to all the voices.
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning we need to keep it compact and just incorporate the most necessary areas and a skeleton staff, who also need to be ready to evacuate on command.’
Bridget had no idea how she managed to tear her gaze from his, but somehow she managed to slide her eyes to Mandy.
‘Fine. Then I’m volunteering to be one of the staff who stays behind.’
‘No.’
His voice cracked out around the room. She could hardly breathe. She certainly couldn’t face him. He sounded so cold. So hard. She opened her mouth to argue but nothing came out. Not that he gave her the opportunity in any case.
‘I can’t allow staff to decide for themselves who evacuates to the main hospital now and who remains in camp. As project chief, Mandy and I have discussed all staff in terms of medical capabilities as well as previous experience in the potential risk voluntary confinement camps such as this one will become.’
It was all Bridget could do not to reel at the force in his tone. She understood that this was his job, but it didn’t explain his brusque attitude. As though he somehow blamed her for something.
Her head ached, trying to work it out.
Perhaps he thought the night with her had stopped him from seeing something earlier? Acting to stop the rebels. Although she didn’t see how that could make sense.
But what else could account for this sudden, awful hostility?
It was like her heart was cracking in her chest and every word was being ripped from her mouth, and yet her colleagues seemed utterly oblivious to the undercurrents between her and Hayden.
‘We’ve unanimously agreed a list of five names. Don’t bother arguing, Nurse, your name isn’t on it, and you’ll be wasting everybody’s time.’
‘Actually...’ Mandy spoke up, her eyes scanning her notes, seemingly equally unaware of the undertones. ‘I could do with you staying, Bridget. You went through this kind of scenario a few years ago, didn’t you?’
‘I did.’ Bridget nodded, keeping her gaze firmly away from Hayden, even though she could feel his eyes boring into her.
It was the oddest sensation.
‘Good, okay, I’ll add your name.’ Mandy scribbled her name on the page before nodding her confirmation to Hayden.
Was she the only one who could feel his disapproval bouncing around the room? And yet, like the soldier that she’d known, he quashed it before he spoke.