Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“That’s what happens when you haul yourself into a war zone, Iz. People shoot at you.” He held out his hand, and I took it, sitting up against the protests of my sore muscles.
“Did you get any sleep?” I asked, rubbing the back of my neck and rolling my shoulders.
“Enough.” He stood, stretching his arms, making the sleeve of his tattoo ripple. “The birds are in the air. We’ve got about forty-five minutes before they arrive. Let’s get you out of here.”
He waived the twelve-inch rule while we both used the bathroom, and then kept me close as I checked in with the chess team and their parents, who’d already been briefed on our departure.
Hopefully it would go more smoothly than our arrival yesterday.
The air thickened with anxiety with each passing second, and fear trickled down my spine, but I forced a smile for the girls. The six of them were just as I remembered from our short Skype sessions, inquisitive and funny. They also spoke immaculate English, which made me wish I’d chosen something other than French in high school so I could have reciprocated in kind.
“All the visas are in this envelope,” I told Coach Niaz, handing her the large sealed manila folder as everyone gathered their things. “I didn’t want to chance losing them.”
“Thank you. I’ll hand them out to the families just in case we get separated,” she said, the shorter woman adjusting her bag over her shoulder and smiling at me with watery brown eyes that crinkled at their corners. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough. I’m sorry you had to come all this way, but—”
“You don’t have to explain.” My throat threatened to close as emotion rose, swift and overwhelming. I’d never been a part of something as important as this, never done anything in my twenty-eight years that qualified as . . . meaningful. “I’m just grateful to be in a position to help,” I managed to say, squeezing her hands.
Gray approached and leaned in at Nate’s shoulder. “They’re five minutes out.”
Nate glanced my way, and I nodded.
“It’s time,” Nate said, his voice filling the waiting area. “Twelve inches,” he reminded me as the other operators took charge of the family units they’d been assigned, leaving one outside watching the door.
He handed me the Kevlar helmet, and I put it on over the sleep-mussed strands of my bun, then did the same with the tactical vest. At least he’d let me sleep without it.
We passed a pile of MREs on our way out of the room, heading into the hallway and down the stairs. “Did you mean to leave those there?”
He nodded, his expression more than alert as he surveyed the area around us. “They don’t have enough food here. They’re basically cut off.”
“And we’re just going to leave them?” I glanced up at him, but he was in work mode. There were no cheek-grazing touches or smiles. This was the version of Nate I didn’t see stateside.
“Not everyone wants to be saved, Izzy.” He gripped his rifle as we started down the length of the terminal.
“This is our home,” the Afghan soldier on my right said. “We’ll defend it to the death.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I simply nodded, clutching my messenger bag tighter the closer we got to the exit. We passed the gate we’d taken shelter at yesterday. The windows that had been blown out had already been boarded up.
“Try to breathe,” Nate said as we moved toward the door, which was guarded by Black and two other Afghan soldiers.
“And if they start firing rockets at us again?” I kept my voice down, well aware of the girls behind us, moving in the groups they’d been assigned for their specific helicopters.
“They brought Apaches,” Nate reminded me. “If they start firing rockets, they’ll give away their position, and then they’ll get repaid tenfold.” His jaw flexed as we reached the door and paused.
“Right, because warfare is logical.” Panic stuttered my heartbeat. Fine, I wasn’t cut out for this. I could admit that to myself.
“Just stay with me,” Nate ordered, softly. “I’ll get you on that helicopter.”
I didn’t doubt that. I also knew how lucky we’d been yesterday to have already made it inside before the explosions started.
“If it’s between me or one of the girls—”
Nate pivoted toward me, took my chin between thumb and forefinger, and tilted my face toward his. “I’m not that guy.” He said it so softly that I barely heard him, so I knew the family behind us couldn’t.
“What guy?”
“Thirty seconds,” Gray called out from the end of our group.
“The guy who does the honorable thing,” Nate said, his eyes searching mine. “Not when it comes to you.”
“Yes, you are,” I argued.
He shook his head. “There’s a difference between you and me, Iz. There always has been. If you knew the world had twenty-four hours before some calamity struck, where would you go?”