Chapter 28



Sat on the edge of the cot, sheets folded at the bottom, Julia finished her second bowl of food when the medic returned.

A few years younger, the medic’s straw-coloured hair was pulled back in a tight bun with the sleeves of her jacket rolled up to her elbow.

Julia had long since dispensed with her jacket. Ripped off at the arm and burnt in other places, Julia was going to need to apply for a new uniform when she got back.

“Has still not woken up yet?” The medic asked as she passed Ray’s bed on her way to Julia.

Julia just shook her head, her shoulders sagging slightly, “The doctor came in. They said they were transporting him by helicopter in the morning.”

“He’ll be prepared for transport and sent back home; they’ll be more medically equipped to look after him there.”

Julia noted the kindness in the woman’s voice. The name ‘Starling’ was etched onto the breast pocket of the medic’s uniform, “Thanks, Starling.”

The woman smiled as Julia spoke her name, coming to stand in front of her and motioning for her to lift up her arm.

Julia obliged, the brown t-shirt she wore tightening as she moved before it worked its way free from her belt slightly.

Starling went to work on cleaning away the dirt and sand from her wound, “This is deep,” she leaned close and inspected the slash across the back of her arm, “How did you get it?”

Julia looked across at Ray as she remembered, “Shrapnel, from an RPG.”

Starling paused and lifted her gaze to look at Julia, amazed at what she had gone through, before she collected herself and carried on treating her wound.

“What’s going to happen to Kazeem?” Julia’s eyes wandered past Ray’s cot to Kazeem who was lying beside him, still sleeping from the surgery.

Starling felt ashamed for what she was about to say, “We’ll patch him up as best as we can but then he’ll be taken to the hospital a few kliks over.”

Jules frowned, “But that hospitals- Why can’t he go with Ray?”

Starling averted her gaze as she wrapped the bandage around her arm after stopping the bleeding, her voice soft as she spoke, “Because he’s an Afghan national. He has to stay in this country.”

Julia scoffed, about to argue but it was no use.

She was tired, her entire body ached, and the rules were rules.

Kazeem would be shipped off to a hospital that had been previously bombed and expected to live. Jules would make damn well sure he did and she would not leave this country until she was certain of it.

Her voice was quiet but Starling heard her as she remembered him being shot, “He saved my life.”

Starling’s throat began to close as she gathered up a small cotton piece of wool and wiped away the blood that had dried on her head.

Julia winced when she pressed down on a tender spot but she brushed off the woman’s concern.

Gathering up the rubbish, Starling turned to Julia, “Is there anything else that hurts?”

Julia felt her lips pull back in a sarcastic smile, “Everything?”

“No, I mean-”

Julia held up a hand letting her know that she didn’t mean it, “I know, I know. And no, I’m just a bit bruised.”

“Oh, okay,” Starling stepped back, “Well, I was told to tell you that the Commander would like to see you.”

Jules nodded her head, her eyes lingering on Ray and Kazeem and their bodies laid out beside each other, IV’s hooked up to their arms.

Knowing the Commander would not wait forever, Julia got to her feet and swiped her jacket from the cot, bunching it in her fist.

“Oh,” Starling had turned to leave when she looked over her shoulder and sent Julia a smile, “It’s good to have you back, Sergeant.”

Jules could only smile because to her it was only half a victory. Ray and Kazeem still needed to pull through before she could allow herself to breathe properly.

With her burnt and blood-stained jacket swinging by her side, Julia stepped out of the tent and back into the late-evening Afghan sun.

Smoothing fly-away strands of hair back into place, Julia looked out across the base and found a bubble of laughter rising in her chest at the scene she saw.

Hand raised like a salute to shield the sun from her gaze, Jules watched Marcus and Carlos playing football with a small group of the children they had rescued.

Storms of sand were blowing up in the air where Marc’s boot hit the ground rather than the old football.

Laughing as Marc picked up on of the kids and swung him in the air, Julia felt something wrap around her wrist.

Looking down, Julia saw the young girl with coffee-stained eyes curling her long, thin fingers around her wrist.

An smile instantly spread across Julia’s lips as she crouched in front of the girl, “What’s your name then?”

The girl shook her head, not understanding what Jules was asking.

She tried a different way. Pressing her hand against her own chest, Julia spoke her own name, “Me,” She prodded her chest, “I am Julia.”

Jules pointed to the girl, “You?”

After a few seconds the girl seemed to understand what Julia was asking and said a single word, “Safia.”

“Safia?” Julia smiled and the girl nodded her head, her dark hair falling over her shoulders, “Safia.”

The girl was smiling as she took Julia’s hand once more and began to drag her towards the football match.

Jackets had been piled at either end to form goals and Julia’s own jacket was soon added to the small pile.

“Oh!” Carlos cheered when he saw her getting involved.

Marc swiped the football from the ground and raised it up high out of the children’s reach as he addressed Julia, “So, you think you can play football?”

Julia shrugged, stepping closer, “Only one way to find out.”

“Football isn’t like shooting a gun, you know, it takes precision, skill . . .” Marc was enjoying his tantalising.

“In that case, what are you still doing here?” Jules stopped just when their bodies were mere inches apart, their eyes locked onto each other’s, “Because I can shoot a gun a hell of a lot better than you.”

Julia heard Carlos’s jeering in the background, approving of her comment.

But whilst Marcus just watched her, grinning like an idiot, Julia jumped and knocked the ball out of his hand.

The kids screamed around her as they all raced for the ball, but Marcus and Julia just smiled at each other.

“You’re going to pay for that,” Marcus laughed.

Julia spotted Safia waving from behind Marcus’s shoulder; she had gotten the ball and needed someone to pass to.

“I look forward to it,” Jules laughed as she quickly dodged around Marcus and caught the ball with the side of her boot, dribbling it in a circle around Marcus before taking a shot at the goal.

A boy with smooth skin and no shoes on his feet, dived and deflected it with an elbow.

But it didn’t matter because Julia and Marcus were laughing as they tried to beat each other once again.

Julia was blocking Marc’s attempts to wrestle the ball from her feet when her name was barked with authority from across the base.

Julia froze and the ball was stolen from her.

Lifting her head up, she looked across the base and spotted the Commander stood by the entrance of command. He did not look pleased with her.

Marc looked at her with confusion.

“I’m wanted in command,” Julia explained, though she thought it was rather obvious.

Marc looked worried.

Julia tried to ease his mind, “They probably just want to go over my report. I’ll be back in a minute and then I’ll whoop your ass.”

That seemed to do the trick.

“You wish,” Marc called after her as she jogged from the football match to command, but she couldn’t stop the cluster of nerves from erupting inside her stomach.

She had already been through her report with command, it was the first thing they had had them do after they returned, so what could they want with her now?

An hour later, Julia found out.



*



The commander was a stern man with little facial expressions. His name lived up to his reputation; Strong.

Hands clasped firmly behind his back, Commander Strong asked her to go through what happened, from the beginning, for the sixth time in an hour.

Julia stood straight, her eyes staring into the distance, as she began once again, “It was a routine patrol . . .”

Her shoulders dropped slightly and a tried sigh left her lips as she turned and looked at the commander, “Permission to speak, sir?”

Commander Strong gave a curt nod of his head, his brows furrowed ever so slightly.

“What is this all about, sir? You have my report.”

Strong stopped pacing the tent and turned to look into the corner of the tent, “Shall we?”

Julia frowned, staring at the vacant corner, “Shall we what, sir?”

Strong looked at her from the corner of his eye when a flap in the tent was pulled back and another gentleman entered the tent.

Julia spotted the stripes on his uniform and stood to immediate attention, despite the protest of her joints.

“At ease, Sergeant,” the older man spoke, his American accent cutting through the air.

Julia relaxed; her hands were still clasped behind her back, as the older man, with the rank of General, came to a stop in front of her and rested back on a table behind him.

“Sergeant Reynolds,” The General spoke as he removed his cap to reveal a head of thick grey hair, “Do you know who I am?”

Julia closed her eyes briefly as her amnesia once again stopped her, “No, sir.”

He seemed surprised, “I am General Ridgeway of the United States Military.”

Julia could feel her spine trying to straighten our further and her shoulders moved back as she heard his full title.

“And what you say in the next few minutes will decide the rest of your career in Her Majesty’s Navy.”

Julia broke form and turned her head to look at the General closely, his words beginning to sink in.

She had been right to be nervous, Julia thought, as she uncovered the real reason she was here.

They were trying to fire her.