They had only five days left in the field, when the rain started again. The day began overcast, with the air growing thicker with each passing hour. The scheduled five-mile road march was canceled when lightening split the air, and the thunder rumbled like an army of bass drums filling the sky.

Around noon, the drizzle started, and soon the drizzle grew heavier, until it became a drenching rain soaking into the ground until the earth was full and overflowing.

The soldiers passed the time in their tents, cleaning their rifles, and moving their bedding around to avoid the water dripping through the aging canvas, while they shared stories about past training exercises that had been rained out.

A few soldiers started card games, while others dozed in their cots.

In an attempt to relieve the boredom, Sophie suggested a contest to find who could disassemble and assemble their M4A1 rifle the fastest.

“Who wants to compete? We can have as many competitors as you like.”

“What’s the prize?”

“Well, I have a candy bar that I’ll offer up as the prize. How’s that sound?”

“How’s about a kiss from the pretty Lieutenant?”

“Yeah!” A shout went up from the group of soldiers.

She gave the group a frown, but they were unrepentant. She held the frown a few moments longer, but then looked around to make sure Gage was nowhere in sight. “All right. The prize is a choice between a kiss or a candy bar. Do we have any contenders?”

Every man in the tent raised a hand amidst laughing and joking, but when the field tables had been cleared, and the contest was organized in earnest, some of them decided they would rather watch than participate. Two young corporals raised their hands, as did the shy Private Johnson. Sergeant Schott and Sergeant Merriweather joined in as well.

While the contestants collected their rifles and moved to the middle of the tent, one of the sergeants began to take bets. The odds were in favor of Sergeant Schott, with the long shot being Private Johnson.

Standing to the side, playing the part of the Master of Ceremonies, Sophie issued the starting orders.

“Place your weapons on the field table in front of you and put your hands behind your backs. When I yell go, you are to take the weapon apart, laying all the pieces on the table before putting it back together again.”

She paused for effect then said, “On your marks...get set...go!”

The contestants’ hands flew to their weapons pulling pins, sliding bolts and removing firing pins. They placed the parts carefully, but quickly, on the tables in front of them. The onlookers shouted and cheered their favorites on.

“Come on, Schottsie. I got twenty bucks riding on this. Don’t let me down.”

“Go, Merriweather, Go!”

“Show ’em all, Private Johnson. I know you got it in ya.”

The race was close. Each of the contestants had been drilled, and drilled again, on this particular skill and were familiar with the procedure. It was now more a contest of who would perform the best under pressure and had the steadier hand.

Sergeant Schott was the first to complete the disassembly and had already started reassembling, with Sergeant Merriweather a close second. Then with a burst of youthful exuberance Private Johnson caught up, shooting the bolt home at the same time as Sergeant Schott.

They snapped the pins in place that held the butt of the rifle to the barrel assembly and reached for the hand guards at the same time.

Private Johnson pulled down hard on the slip ring and popped the first hand guard in as Sergeant Schott struggled with his slip ring. Slamming the second hand guard in place, the private lifted his rifle into the air and shouted, “Hoorrrah!” Then, blushing furiously, he sat back down.

Applause and laughter broke out for the young private. The bookie doled out the money to the few people who had bet on the long shot, while the others groaned about losing.

“Hey, Johnson, which prize you gonna pick?”

Sophie had never seen a man blush more than Private Johnson. Pulling the candy bar from her top pocket, she walked up to where he was sitting, handed him the candy bar, then she leaned down to place a kiss on his cheek. “Excellent job, Private Johnson.”

“Hey, that’s not what I’d call a kiss,” teased one soldier.

“Nah, me neither,” groused another.

Stepping from the shadows by the door of the tent, Captain Jenkins moved into the room. He wore a camouflage, all-weather jacket over his uniform with the hood pushed back. Water dripped off the jacket, and his boots were caked with mud. Sophie noticed his chin showed the stubble of his afternoon beard, creating a shadowy look, making him appear sexy and dangerous. Sophie couldn’t help but stare.

“That’s enough, soldiers. I want you to clean up this tent and break out chow.”

“What’s for chow, Captain?”

“Sorry, boys, but the storm’s too bad to fire up the dining facility, so you’re stuck with MREs. For what it’s worth, bon appétit.”

With a pointed look at the lieutenant, he said in a low voice, “I’d like a word with you.”

Turning from the group, he pulled back the flap and stepped out into the rain, waiting for her to follow.

Uh, oh. That look didn’t bode well for her. She tossed her poncho over her head, pulling up the hood before ducking out to follow him.

The rain came down hard with the occasional flash of lightening piercing the murky skies. Sophie scanned the horizon for possible funnel clouds and was relieved when she didn’t find any.

Gage didn’t speak to her until they reached the communications van and climbed up inside.

Shaking the rain off his jacket and hanging it on a hook next to the door, he turned and glowered at her. “What do you mean by kissing a private, Lieutenant? That could be construed as fraternization between an officer and an enlisted man.”

“And I suppose that kissing your commanding officer isn’t?” she retorted, with a saucy grin.

“Well...just don’t do it again.” Gage’s voice was stern, but his eyes were twinkling.

As she watched, the amusement faded, and he became serious. “Sophie, I received a weather conditions report from the guys at range patrol.”

A rumble of thunder emphasized her sudden feeling of dread. Sophie could tell by his tone that Gage was worried. “How long is this supposed to last?”

“There’s no sign of clearing for the next twenty-four hours. So far, it’s rained seven inches in the past four hours. If it doesn’t let up soon, we may have to bug out.”

“Leave? In that muck out there?”

“Doesn’t sound like much fun, does it?”

“When will we know for sure?”

“They’re supposed to give me a call in another hour or so. They have a truck going around inspecting the roads to determine which ones are still passable.”

“So, that means we just sit and wait?”

“That’s right. I need to stay close to the radio in case they call.” He looked tired, and the signs of strain deepened the grooves beside his mouth.

“Then I’m staying, too.” She grabbed a chair and plopped down ready to stay as long as it took.

“Thanks.” Gage didn’t sit immediately. He leaned back against the door jam, deep in thought.

Deciding a game of solitaire would pass the time, since Gage didn’t seem to want to talk, Sophie pulled out a deck of cards from her pocket and shuffled the deck.

Gage watched her quietly as she laid out the cards to begin her game. He pushed away from the door and pulled a folding chair close to her.

“How about a game of poker?”

“Sounds great.” She gathered the deck, shuffled again, and dealt two stacks of five cards each. “What shall we play for—match sticks or nickels?”

Gage gave her a not-so-captainly, wicked grin.

“Not clothes,” she stated firmly and, with a stern look, she set the deck down.

“Damn. Must be something about the weather outside that makes me feel like living dangerously.” He frowned and was silent for a few minutes, lost in thought. Then his face lit up. “How about answers?”

“Answers?” Sophie tensed. “What do you mean?”

“If I win a hand, I get to ask a question and you have to tell the truth. If you win a hand, you can ask a question and I have to answer.”

She gave him a skeptical look and narrowed her eyes a she studied him. The amusement in his face convinced her this was a harmless game. He wasn’t looking for another battle. Besides, what did she have to lose? She’d already confessed to misleading him. She didn’t have any skeletons buried in her closet. Why not? “Okay, but none of those fancy poker games. Just straight poker.”

Gage won the first hand with four of a kind to her lousy pair of twos. He leaned forward with a mischievous look then surprised her with his question. “What’s your favorite song?”

“My favorite song...” Sophie thought about it, and then answered. “You promise you won’t laugh?” Gage nodded. “It’s ‘Love me Tender’ done by the king himself, Elvis. What’s yours?”

“Uh huh. You have to win a hand before you can ask a question.”

Sophie frowned, dealt the second hand and promptly lost again.

“What’s your favorite food?” he asked.

“That’s easy—Italian.”

This drew a laugh from Gage.

Sophie could have kicked herself. Obviously, he was remembering the fiasco of her spaghetti dinner.

Gage won the third hand, as well.

“What’s your favorite flower?” he asked.

“Roses. Red ones. Only it’s my turn to win!” Determined to beat him on the next hand, she dealt the five cards. Her concentration paid off, and she won the set. Giving him an impish smile, she changed the tempo of the game with her question. “Where did you steal your first kiss?”

“So, you want to play that way, do you? Fine. I was in the fifth grade, and I stole a kiss from Bunny Leigh on the playground and was sent to the office for my trouble. Apparently, Bunny didn’t like it.”

“I’ll bet Bunny regrets that now,” Sophie said, staring at Gage’s lips, recalling the last time they’d kissed. Stealing a kiss in a shower tent didn’t sound all that sexy, but boy howdy, her blood still sang from the feel of his lips against hers.

“Oh, I don’t know. She married a high school coach, and they have four kids. Now, deal. It’s my turn to win.”

The stakes were getting higher, and their concentration centered on winning.

Gage won the next hand and leaned back to tease her with the suspense. “Hmmm...” He tapped his chin and looked around the room for inspiration. “I’ve got it... How old were you when you fell in love for the first time?”

Sophie’s eyes widened, and she felt the blood rush up her neck and into her face. She squirmed in her chair and hesitated. She couldn’t tell him a lie, but she didn’t want to tell him the truth. She had never been in love until the day she’d met him.

“Well?” He waited for her answer with an intense expression on his face.

“I...uh...” Sophie gulped and swallowed, wishing for divine intervention.

Suddenly, a huge explosion ripped the air right outside the communication van, causing both of them to jump from their chairs. Before they could make it to the door, something crashed against the side of the van, rocking it with the force.

“What the hell?”

Gage flung open the door and was immediately drenched with the torrential rains gusting through the opening. He cleared the steps in one leap and disappeared around the side.

Sophie scrambled for her jacket and followed.

She stepped carefully down the metal stairs and was pummeled by the rain. She waded through the mud to the side of the van where Gage bent over the twisted pile of metal which used to be the large dish antenna that stood next to the communications van. When she’d asked for divine intervention, this wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind. They needed that antenna.

Realizing there was no way to salvage it, they worked to attach the coaxial cables to the whip antenna on the HUMMV used to tow the communications van. This was no easy task in the pouring rain but, somehow, they managed. They climbed back into the communications van, and Gage placed a call to the range patrol for a status check on the radio and the weather.

“Tango-four-niner, this is Charlie-four-five, over.”

“Captain Jenkins? Is that you? Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for the last thirty minutes!”

“We lost our main antenna to lightning, and we’ve been struggling to rewire it to a whip antenna. Why? What’s going on out there?”

“The word has gone out; all training areas have been ordered to evacuate immediately... I repeat... Evacuate immediately. Over.”

Sophie’s breath caught in her throat, and she looked at Gage.

“Captain Jenkins? Are you still there?”

“Roger, but not for long. Over.”

“Captain, your unit needs to take the back roads out of the training area. The main road leading in is already four feet under water, and the forecast is for flash flooding in the area. The road on the north side of the training area is on higher ground, but not by much. You need to be on your way in no more than thirty minutes in order to give yourselves time to get out to the highway before dark. Good luck.”

“Thanks, it sounds like we’ll need it. Charlie four-five, out.”

“Range Patrol, out.”

Gage looked at Sophie and frowned with concern. Her apprehension must have been written all over her face.

“Are you going to be all right?” he asked.

She straightened her shoulders and put on a brave smile. “You bet, Captain. Let’s go mud riding.”