Chapter 6
It was hard to still her nerves while she made sure all her patients were comfortable. The camp was on high alert, expecting the enemy to free their men held here. The guards had been doubled up inside the medical center. She had many injured rebels as patients. One man in particular had been sedated. A bullet had gone through just above his hipbone. It had missed everything major—stitches had been required, and he’d lost a lot of blood. He was holding his own, but would be transported in the morning.
She bustled around, checking everyone else. Dr. Robertson was here with her. She’d been delighted to see the extra guards in the center, but she’d hoped one of them would be Ryder. Instead, they were strangers.
Of the twelve injured rebels, most were ambulatory and under heavy guard. A couple of cracked bones, several bad burns, open wounds and, yeah, several bullet holes. Two of her own men slept in the back room, separated for ease of guarding. One had a dislocated shoulder, and the other had a bullet burn along his throat. It was nasty, and it would take some time to heal. He should be shipped to one of the main bases just out of Baghdad with a full hospital facility, but he’d argued pretty fiercely about staying here. She admired the sentiment, but, at some point, it was just foolishness.
Then Ryder’s words echoed in her head. He was as concerned since she had done the same thing.
By the time she finished checking on her patients, a sense of awareness, a readiness came over the men guarding the prisoners. A small light was on in the center of the medical tent. One of the guards blew it out.
She sat down at the desk by the doctor, and the two of them looked at each other. There was a protocol to follow. If they were attacked, they had weapons of their own. She was a good shot, but she’d never been field tested. It certainly wasn’t anything she wanted to try today either.
One guard flattened against a nearby cabinet. Then another moved to a better hiding spot along a wall. As she watched, everyone took a spot where their shadows weren’t as easily seen from outside the tent. They blended in well. Medical was large enough to sleep a half dozen but could treat a lot more in a pinch. It also held offices and medical supplies. But it wasn’t a permanent base, and, for the first time, she realized just how very little separated her from whoever was outside.
One of the guards motioned for her to go under the desk. She pulled out her own firearm, but he motioned a second time. She shrugged and sat cross-legged under the wooden structure. She wasn’t going to argue. Her heart slammed against her ribs, and she breathed through her mouth silently as she waited.
Suddenly three men burst inside. Two were immediately attacked and dropped to the floor. The third man fired randomly. One of the men at her side took a shot, then dropped to a crouch. Caitlyn crossed her arms over her head. Dr. Robertson was behind her somewhere.
Why couldn’t everybody just get along? Instead of these constant war-torn countries where a dictator was always being overthrown—terrorists trying to take over somebody else in the name of one religion or another. It seemed that, no matter how much the military did, there was just no improving this.
Gunfire ripped through the camp. Men shifted in and out of the center. Several others fell. She didn’t understand who was who as chaos reigned. And then several more men burst in, guns firing, but they were quickly taken out.
She counted six rebel bodies on the floor now. Still four shadows outside. A guard straightened, lined up a head shot and popped one through the tent material. She clapped a hand over her mouth, wanting to cry out that he didn’t even know if it was an enemy or a friend. But, when the rebel rush came the third time, it came from the front, the back and the sides. She realized that, while they’d all been watching the front, somebody had been opening the back wall, giving them access from a different angle.
Suddenly her hands were full. One guard collapsed beside her amid a flurry of gunfire. He bled from a graze across his throat. She clasped her hand over the wound to stop the bleeding. Then she saw a second bullet in his shoulder. His eyes were open, but he struggled to breathe. As he gasped for air, she whispered against his ear, “Stay quiet. Let me work on you.”
He gave her a grateful look and tried to stay still as she grabbed bandages from the cabinet beside her. She quickly slapped one against his throat. It wasn’t bad, but a few stitches would be needed to hold the tear together. Right now it was a case of holding pressure to his shoulder to stop the more major bleeding.
Gunfire rattled over her head to the side. Shouts and screams followed as though some were badly wounded. Prisoners tried to fight back.
And then suddenly the men appeared to double and then triple in numbers. All she could do was keep her head down. She didn’t know who the hell was who in the dark. A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, and Ryder’s voice was in her ear. “Are you okay?”
Shuddering at the shock of his presence, she nodded. “I’m okay.”
“Stay down,” he ordered.
With her hands still pressed against the man’s throat and shoulder, she tried to get an idea of what was happening. But as the gunfire stopped after one last bullet, she figured it was over. She just didn’t know who had won.
It took a few minutes before the power came back on. She glanced around, saw Dr. Robertson working his way through the patients and ordered several men standing guard to pick up their fallen comrades and place them on available beds. Two came to help the man she’d been working on. Dr. Robertson soon came to assist.
Once able, she did a quick search to find several of the prisoners they had treated earlier were now dead, collapsed on the floor. Six of the men who attacked them were also dead. The leader with the bullet above his hip had taken a bullet in his forehead—almost execution style.
Bodies were everywhere. She ran her fingers through her hair and pulled her hand over her face. Under her breath she said, “Jesus.” It was more prayer than profanity.
She’d seen a lot of dead, seen what people could do to each other. But still, she’d never get used to it. However, she had no time to think about that. People needed her. She did a quick triage through the downed men. One of the guards had taken a bullet through the stomach. He would be stabilized and air-lifted out now. She redirected the doctor to those who needed him most, then moved out as many of the able-bodied guards as she could, so she’d get the room back in order.
“Go, go and go. We need room to work here.” She caught sight of Ryder. “Please remove the bodies.”
Within minutes arms and legs were grabbed, and the bodies were taken away. Caitlyn didn’t know what they would do with them with the heat here. But that wasn’t her problem. Not right now. Right now she had men bleeding, needing stitches. Men who needed splints. She had two more prisoners in rough shape with new wounds. They glared at her. She never said a word, just set about bandaging them up.
Finally when she was done, she told the prisoners, “I won’t do this a third time. The next time I’ll kill you myself.”
She turned her back on them and walked away, coming up tight against Ryder’s chest.
He grabbed her, tilted her chin up and said, “I do love this kick-ass Caitlyn. How is it so much of your personality is still a mystery to me?”
She blew a few tendrils of hair off her face and smiled. “Ha, not true. You know exactly who I am. And this Caitlyn has always been here. She only comes out when necessary.”
“Too bad the rest of you went into hiding and never explained why or what I’d done.”
Her gaze softened. “What makes you think you did anything?” She hated to think he felt guilty over what had happened. But of course he did.
“If I didn’t do anything, why the hell did you cut me out of your life?” His gaze was searching, intent on answers he needed.
She gave him a sad smile. “Not everything is as it seems.”
“Ryder?” Devon called from the main entrance. “Let’s go, man.”
Ryder dropped his arms, took a look around the bloody area and said, “Are you okay here?”
She smiled. “This is my domain. Get lost.”
He gave her a crooked grin, the same one that had always pulled at her heartstrings. She thought she’d never see it again, and it brought tears to her eyes. She watched him stride from the tent, the alpha male completely back on the hunt.
He was a damn good man. She just wished to hell he was hers.
*
He hated to leave her, but, if he understood one thing, it was doing the job. For both her and him. They couldn’t allow the enemy time to regroup.
With his unit and an additional four men, Ryder’s team headed back out into the night. They were five miles out when a warning sounded. Ryder dropped to the ground and froze. Lying there in the early morning, he heard movement. An ever-so-faint movement.
He crept to the top of a small hill to look over. Sure enough, enemy forces gathered. Not as many as before, but they were well armed. He counted twenty men against their eight. Hours passed. Finally he got word a large rebel group was due in from the east. The military wanted to organize their own attack against the gathering rebel militia.
Even in lockdown, with all the chaos in the medical center, people could be missed. With orders to pull back, he retreated to meet up with the rest of his team. He quickly updated them on the latest orders. “We want to take them out and rescue their prisoners.”
The next couple hours were tense as they counted, watched and gathered. As Ryder waited for reinforcements, the numbers of the rebel army swelled to thirty. Still the men he watched didn’t appear to be seasoned warriors. It was as if the rebels had gone to villages, armed every available man, trained or not.
Ryder was sorry for all the innocents caught up in this world. When different factions decided to fight, everybody was forced into action. Whether they wanted to or not. There was no saying no. It would just get you a bullet.
Ready finally, Ryder’s reinforced team quickly encircled the rebel camp. As Ryder hunched low, waiting for the action to start, he heard Easton and Corey gasp in shock. In the comm in his ear, Ryder whispered, “What’s up?”
“Two prisoners, both taken from the outpost.”
Ryder narrowed his gaze as he studied the gathering below. The rebels had two vehicles. In the back of one were two prisoners under guard. He caught sight of a white face. “A woman?” Ryder’s voice was heavy. And he knew.
“Yes, and Dr. Robertson.”
“It’s Caitlyn, isn’t it?” He closed his eyes. And in his head he started to swear. He never let the sound out as he waited for confirmation. But he didn’t need to hear the answer to know.
He would get her back. No soldier down there was capable of stopping him. He just had to get there before they killed her.