The second Jayde’s feet hit the floor of the helicopter; she scrambled over to where a medic was look-ing over a now unconscious Tyson. Without making a sound, he reached into the bag beside him and worked silently over his fallen comrade as the chopper began its ascent to the sky.
“Ma’am, you need to back away so I can get in here,” the corpsman next to her said.
Jayde speared him with a glare; he hardly looked old enough to shave and she didn’t trust him with her life, much less with the life of the man she loved.
“Let’s get your injuries checked and then you can come back and sit with him,” Harrier said as he mate-rialized beside her.
Jayde knew he was concerned for his friend and teammate as well, so she reluctantly moved away. The second she did, Baby Boy had taken her spot and begun putting an IV into Tyson’s arm.
“Jayde,” the blond man spoke, jerking her attention away from Tyson.
Her dark eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot from stress and lack of sleep, but she clearly met Scott’s blue ones. “Huh?”
“Let me see those wounds you have.” He beckoned her with a wave of his hand.
Wordlessly she held out her arms. With a gentleness that she never would have expected from this man, Scott cleaned off the blood and patted them dry before pouring a healthy dose of antiseptic all over her arms and hands. She clenched her jaw and jerked with a hiss.
“You all right?” he asked.
“That shit stings!”
“How’d you get them?” He wiped away the bubbles that had come out of the cuts. “Not to mention that shiner on your face. Even the mud can’t hide that one.”
“Tyson,” she uttered even as her eyes drifted back over to his body. They were still working on him, but one of them had picked up a radio and was talking into it, gesturing about.
“Care to explain that further?” Scott asked as he handed her a toilette for her face.
“Well, I got the shiner—as you put it—when I dug the bullet out of Tyson’s shoulder. The second I put the knife in him to open the wound up further, he caught me with his elbow and knocked me back to the floor.” She gingerly touched the bruise, wincing at the contact before moving on to the rest of her face. “So having learned that lesson, after I re-sterilized the knife, I straddled him and put my knee on his opposite shoulder and used my body to help hold him in place.” Jayde shrugged. “I just hope he will be okay.”
“He’s a fighter. He is just very dehydrated. What about these?” He nodded at her arms and hands.
“I had to pull him up the last hill, since he lost consciousness. So I tied that harness around him and used the other blanket kind of like a sled. But I guess I hadn’t counted on how heavy he really was or how much the slick mud would want to pull him back down. I had to let go of the blanket and wrap the straps around my arms to make it up. With all the pulling and sliding, I guess they just cut into me.”
She looked down and flinched in pain as she tried unsuccessfully to make a fist with either hand. Sud-denly she stared directly into the eyes of the man across from her, totally ignorant to the fact all the men had heard what she’d done for their teammate.
“He will be okay won’t he?” Jayde asked, scared.
Scott nodded. “Yes. We will get him to the doctor on the carrier immediately. One of the best doctors. They’re waiting for him now.”
“Carrier?” Jayde questioned, once again confused.
“The aircraft carrier we are going to. Don’t worry; he’ll be fine,” Harrier explained.
“Good.” Jayde tried to smile and failed. “I heard you two in the room. I know Carrie is waiting for him back home.” She shook her head when he started to interrupt her. “No. Don’t say anything, please. I think I will just sit with him and say my goodbyes now.” She reached out and tentatively patted Scott on the arm before moving back over to the SEAL on the floor.
Scott wrapped a warm blanket around her wet body and paused at the tears he saw running down her face. “Jayde. Please let me explain…”
“No. I knew our time together was only temporary. Don’t make a big deal over it,” she said, embar-rassed he witnessed her crying.
“But the things I said—”
“You were just looking out for a friend. A very admirable trait.” She looked at him and added, “Thanks for coming to get us.” Then she withdrew into the blanket and watched as the lush mountains gave way to the ocean, all the while keeping one hand on the man beside her.
The second the chopper landed, Tyson was whisked away and taken to sickbay. Jayde, still wrapped in the blanket, went into another room where three men in khakis greeted her. The men who escorted her snapped out a salute and then left her alone with them.
“I must say first of all, Mrs. Kincade, it is an honor to meet you. I am Captain March, CO of the carri-er.” He reached out his hand and shock filled his features as she dropped the blanket and very gingerly shook his hand. “Perhaps you would like a shower and a fresh change of clothes before we continue talking.”
“Oh, that would be heavenly. But please call me Ms. Porter or Jayde. Tyson and I…I mean, Lieutenant Kincade, and I aren’t really married. That was just to help him out.” She smiled through her exhaustion as a female officer came in and led her to an officer’s stateroom.
Jayde took a warm shower and washed a week’s worth of sweat and mud down the drain. Her body shook with emotion and fatigue, telling her she’d reached the limit of her endurance. After the pain in her arms and hands got to be too much, she left the small shower and saw a towel and a fresh set of clothes for her.
The clothes were a bit big, but since they were clean, Jayde didn’t have any complaints. In fact, she simply wore the coveralls over the tank top and pair of shorts that were left for her. She also used the toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant provided and felt semi-human again as she dried her hair with the towel before brushing it out. “Damn, I need to get in to the salon for my hair.” She raised an eyebrow and smirked at her reflection. “And for my legs. I am so due for another waxing. Maybe I should take a week at the spa.” Exiting the bathroom, she found that same female officer waiting for her. “Thank you for the clothes,” Jayde said with a tired smile.
“My pleasure, ma’am,” the woman said.
Jayde looked at her and took stock. She was short, about five-foot-one with bright red hair and pale skin. On the collar of her shirt there was a gold rectangle. “Please call me Jayde.”
“If you would follow me, the captain has some food waiting for you,” The small woman said, opening the door and allowing Jayde to walk through first.
“Real food?” Her stomach growled at the thought. “What is your name?” Jayde asked.
“Ensign Miller, ma’am…I mean Jayde.”
“Thank you, Ensign Miller.” Jayde waited for her to pass and fell into step behind her.
“Watch your step here, ma’am, and mind your head,” Ensign Miller warned.
Jayde’s sore legs screamed in anguish as they maneuvered back up the four flights to a room with a closed door. The ensign knocked and waited for permission to enter before swinging the door in and smiling at Jayde then leaving her there.
Remaining in the doorway, Jayde looked around the room and realized she was the only woman pre-sent. She recognized Scott, Maverick, and the captain. The rest she didn’t know.
“Come in, Mrs. Kincade,” Captain March said, “have a seat and help yourself to some food. I only ask that you go to sickbay when you are done here and have your arms and hands checked out by our Doc.”
Jayde walked towards the table but hesitated when she got there. She didn’t know where to sit. Scott and Maverick gestured to the chair between them and she took it.
One of the men set a bowl of soup down in front of her along with French bread for dipping. A cup of tea was placed near her as well. The men watched her as she ate holding the utensils carefully in her injured hands.
Finally, she spoke. “Captain, I really appreciate this, but I am feeling very awkward here. I am the only one eating and y’all are staring at me. I am getting self-conscious.”
“Sorry.” He gestured to the others and they began to eat as well.
When she finished, the captain leaned forward in his chair. His peppered hair added an air of distinction to his appearance. “We are going to put you on a transport and fly you our Pensacola base where you will be put on a flight to…Seattle, was it?” He nodded to the guy at his left; he was in a suit, not a uniform, “This is Director Nubo of the CIA.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Jayde said. CIA? What the hell? Tyson, I’m scared. Am I in trouble?
The man appeared to be in his mid-sixties. His dark skin was not very wrinkled, but his white hair made him appear more severe. He smiled at her, an action that seemed to take a lot of concentration on his part. “Nice to meet you, young lady. Thank you for helping out our man. Now we just need you to understand you can’t say anything about this to anyone.”
You have got to be shittin’ me! Jayde slid her plate back. The immediate hunger pains were gone and her hands were too sore to eat anymore anyway; she’d barely been able to hold the spoon.
“And just who in the hell would I tell?” she asked.