“I think Phoenix is traveling to Youngstown and not toward Akron like we thought. Make Shamus aware and have him lay in a flight plan giving us a chance to track current position before going in.”
“Yes, sir.”
In a rush, Captain Daubney left the room and nearly collided with Cassie, returning with Amanda’s freshly laundered clothes. At the bed, Cassie placed them in her lap. “Here you go, honey.”
“Thanks.”
“Do me a small favor right now would you?” said Cassie, “Don’t try to stand yet, okay? You’re going to be very, very weak for a few days.”
“Okay.”
“Is Youngstown your fallback rendezvous point, Amanda?” asked Colonel Starkes, interrupting.
“Umm, yeah… did Marty tell you that? Where’s Marty?”
“Marty?”
“Yeah, the guy with me. Sniper. Marine Recon. You didn’t see him? Blonde, long hair, ’bout six foot?”
“No,” said Colonel Starkes.
“No? Damn! Marty was… providing cover fire for me. We hid out in the old warehouse across from the Hall of Fame.”
“I knew it!” said Major O’Malley.
“Nope,” said Colonel Starkes once again.
“Tell me more about Marty,” said Major O’Malley, interested.
“He never made it to you?”
“No, like I said, we high-tailed it outta there.”
“Oh,” said Amanda. She closed her eyes, deeply tired, but snapped them open, trying to refocus.
“Amanda, there was some serious firepower brought to bear that night.”
“Tell me ’bout it.”
“By the end of it, that entire warehouse was a burning and exploding fireball.”
“Oh.” Amanda furrowed her brow, refusing to let dark thoughts of Marty’s death take hold. “He’s not dead… he made it out… I’m sure of it.”
“Okay, let’s hope. But how long was your team supposed to wait in Youngstown? Where in Youngstown? Why Youngstown?”
“Umm—”
“Amanda, how long? C’mon—”
“Ahh, five days max at a steel mill.”
“Can you tell me where?”
“At a furnace labeled #1.”
“You’re three days past that mark,” volunteered the major.
Amanda rolled her eyes and speared the major with a wicked, frustrated stare. “No shit, Sherlock.” She turned in anger to Colonel Starkes. “The rest of your men this quick, Hannah?”
With lightening speed, Colonel Starkes jumped in Amanda’s face. “You insult my men again, I’ll leave your ass strapped down on that bed until the rats find you.” The cold fury of Hannah Starkes snapped Amanda from her pain, self-pity and frustration. Colonel Starkes continued, “you won’t find a better man. And, that’s Major Michael O’Malley to you.”
“Geez, I was just saying,” suggested Amanda.
“He’s my second in command. I’ll not tolerate that insubordination from anyone. Got it?”
“Okay. Sure.”
Nonplussed by the skirmish, Major O’Malley smiled, sticking out his hand. Amanda smiled rather apologetically and took it.
“Sorry, major.”
“It’s Mike. And, no problem. Glad you’re feeling better.”
“Yeah.” Amanda studied Scott and Cassie standing nearby and continued her efforts to settle into the situation. With self-discipline taught by Connor, she quelled the blossoming anxiety building in the pit of her stomach.
“And, you? Mr. Soft Green eyes? What’s your name?” Amanda’s sudden bright smile, blue eyes and courteous demeanor had its intended effect.
“Umm…”
“That’s Scott. And that’s Cassie,” said Major O’Malley, “They took care of you round-the-clock from day one. Especially Scott.”
“Oh… wow.”
“I don’t think Scott left your side at all for the first five days; slept at your door when he was forced to sleep after that.”
Amanda refocused on both Scott and Cassie. Registering the realities of her time spent here, she understood the commitment they both had to her recovery. She sniffed herself to find she smelled as fresh and clean as mountain air. Humbled, her intensity softened. “Oh. Well… Scott, Cassie. Geez, thanks so much.”
“Not a problem,” said Scott.
“Sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you all since I woke—”
“Ah, we’re glad to see you’re finally back with the living,” said Cassie.
“Yeah, you keep healing, Amanda,” said Scott, “If there’s anything you need, anything, just let me know.”
“Okay. I will. Thanks.” Amanda blushed at the attention. She reached to touch the bandage on her head and slipped her hand to the back of her neck, feeling light stubble. Smiling slightly, she sought Scott’s attention.
“Who do I thank for the new hairstyle?”
“Ahh, that would be me,” said Scott.
“I see.”
“And, you have some stitches under that bandage that I hope will end up covered up when your hair grows back.”
“Great… you think I should cut off the other side and go full Mohawk?” Amanda’s attempt at humor was well received; all laughed.
“Get dressed, Amanda,” said Colonel Starkes, “Cassie will help you. When you’re ready, come downstairs. We’ll see what we can work out in prep for a Youngstown trip.”
“Right.”
“We might even be able to find you some solid food to help gain your strength back.”
“Hmm.”
“Yeah, I know that soup broth that Scott’s patiently hand fed you the past seven days isn’t enough for you and the baby.”
Ravenous, Amanda touched her belly and thought of her unborn child and the need for substantial food. The level of care in her twenty-four hour round-the-clock treatment during the past eight days sank in.
“My goodness. Thanks again for taking care of me, Scott… you too, Cassie.”
“Don’t mention it,” said Cassie.
“Yep. No problem,” said Scott.
“No, truly, I’m humbled by your attention, I am.”
Scott blushed at her appreciation. “We have a good squirrel stew for lunch downstairs. I hope you like it.”
Mildly amused, Colonel Starkes studied Scott’s schoolboy shyness around the young woman. But, hearing about the stew, Amanda edged to stand with both feet on the floor. Pleased, she found she could stand, but was surprised at her overall fatigue in trying to do so. “Wow. I’m weak as a newborn kitten.”
“Yeah,” suggested Scott, “You would be.”
Thoughts of squirrel meat chunks dripping with broth filled Amanda’s head and her mouth watered. She waved everyone out the door.
“Okay, you all. Please get outta here so I can remove this silly shirt and put on my own clothes… I’m starving!”
The team turned at her request and began to leave.
“Wait!”
“Yes?” said Colonel Starkes, glancing back.
“Anyone know what happened to my rifle?” Bracing for the worst, Amanda stood at the edge of the bed, staring like a forlorn puppy.
“You mean a 30.06 Remington with a Leopold scope and walnut stock?” said the major.
“Yeah.”
“We have it.”
“No way!”
“Mickey’s team scooped it up during the firefight.”
“Wow! I can’t believe it!”
“Sergeant Burroughs grabbed it when he and Mickey dragged you from the front entrance.”
“Oh… wow. Oh my, that’s great! You guys are so great!”
“You’re welcome.”
“Okay, okay now get out, please.” With a sudden urgency, Amanda used trembling hands to unfold her pants, discovering the ability to stand on one shaky leg, but just barely, as she slipped into her pants.
“And, make sure you save me some of that stew!” she yelled toward the door. Cassie was still standing there waiting.