Читать книгу The Marine's Return - Rula Sinara - Страница 13
ОглавлениеLEBOO’S PULSE SKITTERED. He remained frozen behind the thickest tree but no footsteps approached. They’d almost caught him this time.
If it hadn’t been for the monkey screeching, while scampering past the tent with a stolen piece of fruit and knocking over a metal pail in the process, they would have suspected a human intruder. They would have heard the noise he’d made when he bumped into the metal cabinet in the tent.
If someone found him, everything would be over. His family, especially his mother and sister, would suffer.
The evening grew dark, blessing Leboo with shadows. The voices he’d heard moments before, faded into the night.
He peered carefully around the tree. The pregnant woman gathered the bowl and what fruit was left in it, then disappeared into their home. No one else was around. This was his chance.
He secured the bandages and supplies he’d stolen in his pocket, then escaped as quietly and swiftly as he could. He was getting good at this...gifted at stealth. But a nagging feeling warned him that next time he might not be so lucky. The price for not returning with the supplies was too high to pay, yet the reward...priceless. He needed to stay focused. He needed to be prepared to defend himself at all costs.
He’d come better armed next time...
* * *
LEXI SHIELDED HER face from the sun and eyed the solitary wisp of cloud that had been lingering overhead.
“I don’t think we have anything to worry about. The last rainy season practically skipped us altogether. I’m honestly more worried about what the drought is doing to the region than the clinic flooding or roads getting washed out when the rains come,” she said.
She’d read about Kenya’s climate and the rainy seasons back when she was making her big move. Everyone had warned her, when she’d first arrived, about the “short rains” of November and December, yet, it had not rained nearly as much as they’d described. She wasn’t so sure the “long rains” of April would be that much more dramatic.
“You never know.” Jacey cocked her head. “I get that climate change has done a number on everyone, but I’m a firm believer that predictable weather doesn’t exist.”
“Sure, it does. I predict that a minute from now it’ll still be hot and sunny,” Lexi said.
“Wow, pregnancy must be enhancing your intuitive abilities. It must go hand in hand with that mother’s intuition thing.” Jacey smirked at her and shook her head as she packaged up some surgical equipment for Hope to take to Nairobi to sterilize.
They had a small, autoclave for sterilizing equipment, but it had broken down a month ago. Even when it had been working, it had depended on the generator. Lexi really wished they could get one of the solar-powered autoclaves she’d read about. She wanted to talk to Dr. Hope about installing solar panels on the roof, too.
Though none of that would matter if they shut down the clinic. She’d sacrifice newer equipment to keep the clinic open. She’d boil things if she had to. Back to basics. The impact of having routine care and vaccines available to locals was so worth it. People needed this clinic.
Fingers crossed, Ben would be able to spare one of his new recruits or teammates to provide security. This clinic was important to Hope, too, so maybe he’d make the extra effort for his wife. Lexi was probably worrying for nothing.
“A little rain would be a blessing, but at least we know that no torrential storms will keep Mac from bringing Hope around today. Other than vaccinations, we can’t see any more clinic patients until these supplies are sterilized. Where’d Taj go?”
“He’s gathering his things so he can head out with Mac.” Jacey took off her sterile gloves and disposed of them, then turned and crossed her arms. “Look, Lexi. I know we have a rule about no one staying out here alone, even without poacher threats, but I can hold down the fort until Mac brings back our equipment and more supplies. In the meantime, you should go with Taj and Mac to Nairobi. Get some proper rest. Make arrangements for when the baby comes. Go shopping.”
“Absolutely not. I told you I have everything under control. I’ll get what’s needed when I go in for my exam. It’s called efficiency. And I’ve already made arrangements. Hope said I can stay at her home to recover after the baby comes, if I want. I don’t plan to abuse that invitation. I’ll stay there a few weeks to a month, max. Then I’m coming right back here. We’ve organized a nurse from Hope’s office to cover my clinic duties every other day. And Taj will still be around, too.”
“But what about the baby?”
“What do you mean?”
“Lexi, do you have any idea how hard that would be for you? What about your child and our very basic living conditions? It’s too risky.”
“I’ve thought this through. Big houses in fancy neighborhoods aren’t the only way people raise families. We keep a clean place here. Our clinic bungalow is like a small house or apartment. All this nature? Think of it as a big backyard. Jane Goodall had her toddler son at her research camp years ago. Half of Dr. Hope’s friends and family have done it. Even in America there are people who live in cabins in the woods, which are teeming with wolves and bears. And I might add that big cities and suburbs aren’t without their dangers—drive-by or school shootings, for one thing.
“I’m going to build my life here doing what I was born to do. And if everyone Hope and Mac know has raised their kids out here, I can do it, too. I’d have a room and a roof over my head. I don’t need any more than that. And my baby will have me. Don’t worry.”
“What about logistical things like dirty diapers?”
“When I first came here, Mac told me all about how he met Dr. Bekker at her elephant rescue. He said she used to take bucket showers and boil her daughter’s and her friend’s son’s diapers then hang them on old-fashioned clotheslines. I’m sure I’ll manage and get tips from everyone who has been through it. At least we don’t have to take bucket showers and our well hasn’t dried out. And, for the record, I don’t expect anyone to diaper wash or babysit. I’ll do it.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’d be happy to help out.” Jacey crinkled her nose. “Maybe. I’m just worried for you both.”
“Don’t be. I know what I’m doing. That mother’s intuition thing. Right?”
“I guess.” Jacey sighed.
“Any special requests other than ice cream?” Taj asked, coming out of the clinic.
“A new autoclave?” Jacey quipped.
“I wish. That’s in Dr. Hope’s hands,” Taj said.
“Someone to secure the area so we stay open?” Lexi added.
“That’s also in her hands. Or Ben’s. Trust me, what Mac said is bothering me, too, and not just because I work here. Listen, we have two hours before they get here. I want to take the jeep down to the enkang that’s just south of here by that dried riverbed and deliver—”
“Hang on. We have a patient.” Lexi motioned toward a Masai man who was hurrying down the path carrying a woman in his arms.
“Oh, no.”
She didn’t have to say more. Taj and Jacey were already running over to help carry the woman to the exam tent. Dark bloodstains were evident on her traditional wrap dress, despite the cloth’s vibrant colors. Lexi moved as fast as she could and was at her side just as they lay her on the exam cot. She was pregnant. Lexi swallowed hard. Stay focused. This isn’t you. The young woman was bleeding out. Her eyes were barely open and her face looked pale.
“What happened? Nini kimetokea?” Lexi asked, hoping he spoke either English or Swahili because she couldn’t recall how to ask it in Maa.
“She was grinding corn. Only that.” The man stood back, his eyes intense. He draped his red-and-orange shuka back over his shoulder. His opposite shoulder and upper arm bore the scars of teeth marks. Lexi glanced at him. The man had stood up to a wild animal, but seeing blood from an ill family member was different. She’d seen plenty of grown men get woozy.
Jacey was pulling out clean gauze and the last sterilized set of surgical equipment. Taj had a blood pressure cuff on the woman and was setting up an IV. Lexi, already gloved, assessed the blood loss and pregnancy stage. She’d delivered several babies before, but they’d all been routine, full-term labors. This woman had to be toward the end of her first trimester or the beginning of her second. Lexi hadn’t seen her at the clinic before for any prenatal care.
The man seemed to waver on his feet.
“Jacey, we don’t want two patients right now.” Lexi glanced up at her and Jacey immediately skirted around the bed to go walk the man outside the tent. “We’ll take care of her. You were right to bring her in,” Lexi told him on his way out.
Taj looked at Lexi as he hung the IV bag. They were lucky to have fluids. They had no blood on hand. Not out here. They both knew the chances of saving the pregnancy were slim to none. They couldn’t stop the miscarriage at this point. She just hoped they could save the mother. A life that wouldn’t have a chance if they hadn’t been here to help. No, she couldn’t abandon the people here. She couldn’t take away medical care from all the children out here. Doing so would be akin to letting the poachers win. That wasn’t happening. Not on her watch.
* * *
“ONCE A MARINE, always a marine. So, consider it an order.”
Chad shook his head at his father’s use of authority.
“You may be a marine, Dad, but you know an order is not going to work with me,” Chad said, grabbing an apple and taking a bite. He wanted a banana and he could have peeled it using his teeth, but he didn’t want to do that in front of his father. It made him feel like less of the man he’d striven to be, a man who would have made his dad proud.
Ben pulled his head out from the refrigerator and nearly lost his grip on the set of crutches he was holding out of the way.
“Listen, I’m serious. I need you to go with your mom. Scope things out at the clinic for me. I obviously can’t do it. You have a trained eye. I want distances, weak spots, you name it. Including suggestions on how to secure the place. Plain fences are a joke out there and Hope doesn’t want anything with barbs or voltage because of all the kids that come around. Besides, relying on their generator won’t work. I don’t have anyone else I can send right now. Not anyone I can trust to be thorough. Hope is furious that I said the place should be shut down until they find this escapee or even longer, given the rise in poaching activity. I need to know your mom and her staff out there are safe. Don’t you want that, too?”
Chad had grown up around here. He’d heard his dad talk about poachers and some of their tactics for years: hidden snares, poisoning watering holes, guns and rifles, including automatic weapons, sawing entire faces off of elephants and rhinos just to harvest their tusks. Plus, they were swift on their feet and knew how to disappear. They even took advantage of the Masai farmers who were losing their crops and herds to the droughts, paying them for their help. Poachers took greed and ruthless murder to a whole new level, and most of the groups were backed by wealthy, ivory mafia bosses. Half of Chad’s family and relatives, including Ben, worked to fight poaching. He wasn’t against doing so himself. They were evil.
But he was in no shape for that kind of undertaking. Ben had to realize that. Chad couldn’t help but feel like his dad was using this to get him out of the house.
“What’s the point? You have plenty of guys you train. Send one of them. Or ask Mac to do it. He can see the lay of the land from his chopper.”
Ben leaned forward.
“Let’s break this down Barney style. I only have a small group right now and they’re all training KWS teams. One of them was actually with the KWS group that was scanning the area using thermal imaging. The rest are on fire watch closer to the Tanzanian border, to see if they can find any signs the injured poacher is hiding out there, versus having crossed over. I can’t pull those men from what they’re doing. They’re on the front lines as it is and this isn’t the only poaching case KWS has on its hands.”
Chad set his half-eaten apple on the table and looked away. The back of his neck pinched.
“Chad, please. I just want to be assured the clinic area is okay.” Ben hobbled over to the kitchen table and sat. “You know I’d be out there myself if I could be. I’ve even thought of cutting this darn cast off myself, but don’t you dare tell your mother I said that. So I need you to go. Mac isn’t you. He may have years of experience helping wildlife rescuers find injured animals or helping KWS with aerial spotting, but he isn’t trained in combat strategy. He can’t scope an area and take in a million details at once the way you can.”
Chad pushed away from the table.
“Just what kind of details do you expect from me?”
“I want to know what can be done to make the clinic area safer. Mac checked on everyone there but they said the only people who’d come through were patients. No injured poachers or suspicious persons. I’m not going to assume it can’t happen. You know what they say about hiding in plain sight.”
Chad didn’t answer. Had he been sharper that day in Afghanistan, he wouldn’t have walked his men into a trap. He wouldn’t be standing here right now permanently wounded. His dog would still be alive.
“You’re giving me busywork I can’t even do. You’re the one in security. Not me. Maybe you should give up already on me following in your footsteps.”
Ben banged the end of his crutches against the floor.
“Cut the bull, Chad.”
“I’m just stating facts. If a poacher walks up, what am I supposed to do? No rifle. Remember that? Kind of hard to hold a gun with one hand. Should I flick him off? ’Cause that’s within my limits.” Chad grinned and pointed a finger at his dad. “Or, no, wait. Maybe hand-to-hand combat, because you know the expression does imply only one hand is used.”
“Chad,” Ben warned.
“What? A one-armed man is allowed to tell one-armed jokes. It’s a privilege.”
Making himself the butt of jokes helped him to cope with how he was sure other people saw him. At least, that’s what he told himself. The reality? The sarcastic remark had left a bitter taste in his mouth.
His dad didn’t laugh. He just bore a look through Chad that made him feel small. It didn’t sit well. Especially coming from his father. It didn’t matter that Chad had come to terms with the fact that he was less of a man than he used to be, but seeing that judgment in his dad’s eyes ate at him. He threw the rest of the apple in a compost bin by the sink and started for the living room.
Ben stood, tucked the crutches under his arms and followed him out.
“Tony’s wife is there. She’s the nurse manning the clinic.”
Chad stilled. An icy wave spread through his chest, prickling like the cruel sting of frostbite at a winter post in Helmand Province.
“What do you mean Tony’s wife is there? What are you trying to pull? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Because you just got here. Because we’d all agreed to limit what we said about certain things so that you could regain your strength and focus on getting better. You were devastated when we told you the news about his death, and it held back your recovery. So when Lexi applied for the job at your mom’s clinic, we decided not to mess with your emotions any further. But I figure, now that you’re here in Kenya, you’re going to find out sooner or later. If you don’t want to help protect the clinic for me or your mom, then do it for Tony.”
Chad collapsed onto an armchair and gripped his forehead with his left hand before fisting his hair. Tony’s wife. This couldn’t be real. What was she doing there? Didn’t she have family in the US?
Tony and Chad hadn’t been able to talk much in the last few years, so he knew very little about Lexi other than that she was a nurse...and the love of Tony’s life, according to him.
Man, if something ever happens to me, make sure she’s okay. Just do that for me, would you?
Tony’s words rang in Chad’s ears. Tony had been like a brother to him. His best friend long before they had joined the marines. They’d met as teenagers when Tony’s family decided to move to Nairobi for a few years so that their children could experience the other half of their American-Kenyan heritage. They’d bonded as expats, though Chad had already been living in Kenya awhile.
He’d showed Tony around and studied with him through high school. And though they’d gotten into different colleges in the US, they’d both decided to join the marines at the same time. He’d never met Tony’s wife, though. He’d heard about her, but he and Tony hadn’t been stationed together. Their leave times had differed, too, which was why Chad hadn’t been able to attend their impromptu wedding.
But he had managed to call Tony to congratulate him. Those words had been the last thing Tony had said to him, and Chad had given his word. Lexi would be okay.
Chad grated his nails against his forehead. He’d asked about her after hearing about Tony’s death. At least he thought he had. The pain and meds had messed with his head when he was in the hospital. He’d missed the funeral but he was sure he’d asked if Lexi was okay.
During their last conversation, he vaguely recalled Tony mentioning that he and Lexi had a plan to move back to Kenya after his tour. But Tony was gone now. What the heck was Lexi doing out in Kenya’s Serengeti? Alone?
The scraping of chair legs against the floor had him straightening his back. Ben settled in an armchair across from him with his cast positioned to avoid scratching the hand-carved coffee table.
“I don’t get it. Why would she move out here?”
“According to her, it was part of a plan they’d made together and she wanted to see it through,” Ben said. “She’s one determined woman, but she hasn’t been out here long. She doesn’t grasp the danger. You can help her. You can. You’re stronger than you think you are, or you wouldn’t be a marine. You still have a purpose, Chad. Mine changed when Zoe was killed. Yours can, too. You start with the small stuff that matters. For now, that means making sure it’s safe for Lexi to keep running the clinic, especially in her...condition.”
Chad narrowed his eyes at his dad.
“She’s pregnant.” Ben hoisted himself back onto his crutches and thrummed his fingers against them. “My guess is that the Chad I know is going to want to pay his respects to his best friend’s wife. If you don’t want to do it because it’s the right thing, then do it out of a sense of duty.”
Ben stalked off down the hall that led to a master bedroom suite and whistled for Roosevelt to follow him.
It took several minutes before Chad could will his legs to move. He walked over to the patio doors, stepped outside and stood there feeling lost.
Tony had never said anything about becoming a father. Given how many months it had been since his death, she had to be pretty far along...
Make sure she’s okay. Just do that for me...
But Tony had made that request long before Chad’s injuries. Had Tony known what condition Chad was in now, he’d never have asked so much of him, would he? Maybe Chad was overthinking all this. He wasn’t responsible for his friend’s widow. He simply had to check on her and pay his respects, as his father had said.
You gave Tony your word. As a friend. As a man of honor. As a marine.
A burning pain washed over his missing arm. He muttered a curse and dug his nails into his thigh until it subsided.
Danger. A threat to women and children. The image of the little girl running toward the cart flashed in his mind. Her wide eyes. The terror. The deafening noise and searing pain. A glimpse of her listless body seconds before he blacked out.
Sweat beaded and trickled down his temples. Nausea swept over him then faded. He lowered himself onto the steps overlooking the yard.
The clinic wasn’t in a war zone. Or was it? Danger was danger. Terrorism—the ultimate shape-shifter—existed in a sickening number of forms. What would it hurt to go check out the place? It’d get his parents off his back. All he had to do was to report to his father that the place wasn’t safe and it would get shut down, at least temporarily. At least until the poachers were caught. Or until new ones were spotted, which essentially meant the place would be shut down for good and his duty would be done. Tony’s wife and unborn kid would be forced to go live under safer, normal circumstances. Surely she had family in the States she could go back to. In any case, she’d be better off than at a rural clinic.
And his mother would be devastated. She was so passionate about providing medical care to the tribal children. They often lived too deep into Kenya’s savannah and Serengeti to have access to proper care. He knew the clinic meant everything to Hope. And she’d already given up so much of her time to care for him when he’d been hospitalized in the US, taking her away from those kids. Was this how he’d repay her? Shutting down the place to fulfill a promise to a friend and get himself off the hook? Damned if he did. Damned if he didn’t.
But his mother had her mobile unit, too. This was just one location. If an injured poacher was on the loose in the clinic area, then this pregnant nurse had no business running the place. Decision made. He’d go.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and squinted up at a solitary cloud making its way slowly eastward. To be up there in the clouds again...to feel the lift of a helicopter, and the surge of adrenaline he experienced before a mission... He closed his eyes briefly, noticing for a fleeting moment that he wasn’t in pain. Not in that brief second, at least.
If he didn’t go and something happened at the clinic, something he could have prevented, he’d never forgive himself. Ben wanted him to check out the area? Fine. He could deal with the clinic’s staff gawking at him for a few hours. Maybe he’d scare the children at the clinic enough that they wouldn’t notice they were getting shots. He could see it now. The looks. The finger pointing. Maybe he’d even earn the code name Dubwana. Monster.
He stepped back inside the house, closed the glass door and stopped at the sight of his reflection. His injuries barely showed in the faint and fuzzy image. His dark T-shirt and upper body faded against the dim backdrop of the room and all that showed of the small flecks of scars on the right side of his face was the one that pinched the skin at the end of his eyebrow.
Then his father’s face appeared. Chad turned, hoping Ben would assume Chad had been looking outside and not at himself.
“Take this,” Ben said, pausing expectantly then setting a black handgun case on the dining table near them.
“Like that would be of much use with my left hand.”
“Your aim with your left hand is better than anyone else’s best shot, marine.”
Chad torqued his neck to each side, but it did nothing to relieve the strain. He let out a long, slow breath then stretched his jaw.
“Tell Mom and Mac that I’ll head out with them. Just this once.”
