‘No, ma’am, we don’t,’ the second lad declared. ‘A bunch of us wouldn’t be here without him.’
Their pride and admiration was infectious and Fliss couldn’t help herself. She could pretend it was professional interest. She knew better.
A few days ago she wouldn’t have even considered discussing Ash’s injury but, after what had happened in the supply room, she couldn’t shake the part of her which was desperate to know more.
‘I understand the injury is extensive; the blast got under the body armour.’
‘Yeah. We’d been ambushed, ma’am, pinned down in a small courtyard. He had about six seconds between the grenade rolling in and it going off to make a decision. If he’d told us to make a run for it we’d have all got caught by the blast or the shrapnel. But the boss being the boss, he grabbed a small daysack, threw it on the grenade and threw himself on top of that.’
‘He was in pretty bad shape, ma’am,’ another confirmed. ‘Aside from the blast injuries themselves, he had some twenty fractures or breaks from the body armour. We didn’t think he was going to make it.’
‘He got transferred out and I think he was recovering for about a year, ma’am, before they placed him with a new unit and made him fly a desk for three years. I think he hated every second of it.’
Fliss absorbed all the information. It certainly explained why he was finding it so hard to work in the new role as colonel, as well as why he had such an impressive reputation. But, before she could answer, one of the QRF ran over to her.
‘Reports coming in of another shout,’ he yelled, as Fliss had already started running alongside him back to the heli.
‘A series of explosions involving gas canisters used by the local school for cooking. Multiple casualties, they’re sending both MERTs out. Kids were caught in the first blast and locals and soldiers there as rescuers in the second blast.’
‘Fine,’ she yelled as she leaped back on board. ‘We’ll take this casualty back to camp and head straight back out.’
All she could do was hope against hope that it wasn’t as bad as it sounded.
* * *
Ash spotted her the moment he reached the rooftop, her hunched up shape silhouetted against the horizon as she sat in solitude watching the last of the sunset over the desert.
‘They said you’d be up here.’
If she heard his voice, she didn’t react.
He inched along the concrete terrace, ducking low until he reached her. Her shoulders stiffened awkwardly as she finally turned, discreetly brushing at her cheeks as though they were damp and wiped a finger under each eye. Something twisted inside him to see her in distress.
‘Mind if I sit down?’
There was a moment of hesitation before she inclined her head, but they both knew he’d have sat anyway.
‘Want to talk about it?’
Another hesitation and this time she shook her head.
‘Okay,’ he acknowledged, folding his arms and allowing them both to lapse back into silence.
But at least now she wasn’t alone.
He’d heard about the incident and could well imagine the grim scenario. He knew that was why she was up here alone, to vent some emotion in private without bringing down the morale of the rest of the camp. The other members of her team could console each other but he knew Fliss would feel that, as their major and leader, she had to stray strong. She could be there for them, but not the other way around.
An ingrained sense of responsibility and duty. Just like her uncle, the General. Just like him. He should respect that. He should just tell her the little sliver of good news he had and then he should leave.
He didn’t get involved, he reminded himself brutally.
‘Anyway—’ Ash broke the silence ‘—I came up here to tell you about Corporal Hollings—the soldier from the RTA yesterday?’
‘I remember who Corporal Hollings is.’ She nodded quietly. ‘Andy Hollings.’
Ash wasn’t surprised. He had a feeling she remembered every single soldier she rescued. All her casualties mattered to her. Not that he hadn’t met plenty of trauma doctors who cared before now, but there was something...more about Major Felicity Delaunay.
‘I figured it must be pretty unpleasant sometimes, being on the MERT. You see those who don’t make it, but you never get to find out what happens to those soldiers you keep alive long enough to get to the hospital.’