Duty(69)

“I don't think so, sir. But maybe in a few months, when I go on terminal leave, I'd like that.”

Captain Lemmon gives me one last squeeze and lets go. “Good deal, and I'll hold you to that.”

Lance grabs at my shirt. “Mommy, can we go ride now?”

I smile and hug my son, relieved. “Yes, baby. Let's go on a bike ride.”





Chapter 23





Aaron





The first sound I'm aware of when I wake up is the whir of an air conditioner. That's something I haven't heard in a very long time, and I open my eyes, wondering what the hell happened.

The tent I'm in is white on the inside, and I've seen one of these before. It's a field hospital. I remember doing an exercise with a Combat Support Hospital one time and helping set up the equipment. The white vinyl on the inside of the tent is supposed to be like the operating room at a regular hospital, so that blood or other bodily fluids are easy to see and clean up.

“What happened?” I ask, lying back. “I was just closing my eyes.”

“No, what you did was pass out from blood loss and exhaustion,” a nurse says, coming over. “Next time you get shot in the leg, make sure you remember to not wait a couple of hours to put a pressure bandage on it. As it is, you're going to be here a little while. Probably better for you anyway.”

“No way,” I grumble, sitting up. I see the IV connected to my arm and reach for it, but the nurse takes me by the wrist and pulls it away. “I've got to get back to the Spartans.”

“You plan on flying yourself?” the nurse asks, giving me a raised eyebrow. “Because you're fifty miles from your unit right now.”

“I can steal a vehicle,” I grumble, lying back. “Shit. So, who's running Alpha Company?”

“I believe your battalion commander assigned his XO to the company for now. Between him and your First Sergeant, they're in good hands,” the nurse reassures me. “Relax, let me go get the doctors, and we'll see about getting you back to your unit as quickly as possible.”

“Captain Stephens?” I ask. “What about him?”

The nurse shakes her head. “I don't know. Maybe the doctor can tell you. Relax. We'll get you taken care of.”

I nod and lie back, still tired, but I can't go back to sleep. When the flap on the tent opens again, I see a Major come in, but he's got the air of a doctor, and most military docs like their patients to be casual with them. “Hey, Doc.”

“How're you feeling?” he asks, coming over and looking at my chart. “Captain Burns said you were awake and had some questions.”

“Yeah, pretty much. Like when I can get back to my unit.”

“Not for a while,” the major says. “Besides the blood loss, you tore the hell out of your calf muscle.”

“What happened?”

“Shrapnel clipped one of the veins in your calf. Thankfully, it was a vein and not an artery. It's why you didn't lose your lower leg, honestly. The foot kept being supplied with fresh blood, but then you just pumped it out the other side. If that vein had been bigger, you might have just passed out from blood loss earlier.”

I look down at my leg, where my ACU pants have been cut away, and funnily enough, the first thought through my mind is that I'm going to have to go buy another set of pants. Still, I guess they'll get replaced. It is a war zone, after all. It's then that I realize I can't feel anything. “So what's the damage? It's still numb.”

“The wound was a clean pass-through. My guess is a ricochet, judging by the cleanliness. It took a nice chunk out of your calf muscle. I hope you're not into bodybuilding,” the doctor jokes, poking my leg to check sensation. “But because of that, there's no way I'm sending you back to a unit that's walking all over the damn mountains on a regular basis. You'd end up crippled for life within two months, limping for the rest of your life from the scar tissue and other problems. And the numbness should wear off in a few hours. We wanted to make sure you had a chance to recover some before the pain sets in. And yes, it's going to hurt when that block wears off.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Sit here and slowly go apeshit?” I fume, sitting up. “If you keep me in a bed past the next two days, I'm going to be bouncing off the tent poles.”

“We'll find something for you to do, son. Don't worry about that. You're not the first person who's come through the CSH with more energy than common sense. Just sit back for now, and I'll send someone to bring you a little pushcart of books. Not a lot unless you like Stephen King, but it should pass the time.”

“Great. The man in black fled west, and the gunslinger followed him,” I quote, shaking my head. “Okay, okay. I'll do my best to not annoy your staff.”

“Good. And I'll do my best to get you into a normal room where you can talk with other patients or at least some real people. And maybe we can find some desk duty around here for you to do too, if you really want to keep yourself occupied. Square deal?”

“Hooah, sir. Thanks.”



The doctor is good to his word, and three days later, I find myself sitting in a slightly dusty office in Kabul, scanning mail for the censors. It's boring, and I feel a bit like a voyeur, but at least I'm able to keep my mind occupied. My leg throbs a little, but it's more of a deep itch, and I'm glad that I have on a fresh set of ACU pants to go with the bandage. I'm pretty sure I'd tear the f*cking stitches out otherwise.