War Torn

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

Mostly.

With that one word my life freezes, my

blood turns to ice in my veins, and my heart stops. What the hell

did he mean by that? Most of his men survived the initial blast?

Most of his men are okay?

And what about Tomas? What happened to

him?

The TV blinks off, the cable replaced

with the command channel calling all soldiers to their stations.

Which means I’m tied down to my desk, miles away from the fight. I

can’t do that, not without knowing what’s happening to my

boy.

Alden gets a page to return to the

garrison, but he doesn’t want to leave me this way.

“I’m fine.” I’m surprised

how easy the lie flows from my lips, but the soldier in me has

taken over. I’m running on auto-pilot now, adrenaline kicking in.

We have work to do. I have work to do—I have to find Tomas.

“I’ll be at the office.”

It isn’t until I start to dress that

he’s convinced I’m not going to freak out and he leaves. Finally,

he leaves.

The house is empty around me, the near

silence deafening, the rumble of convoys and the whir of Hueys

distant sounds from a war game I’m no longer playing. The TV is

black and empty, and I see my reflection in it as I pass but don’t

recognize myself. I’m not that soldier there, that man in a pressed

uniform with an ironed-on scowl. There’s no emotion in the

reflection, looking back at me. There’s a blackness around him,

through him, in him, and he’s someone only going through the

motions of living, he’s moving and that isn’t me because ever since

Alden left, I’ve been standing still. I won’t move again until

Tomas is by my side.

Outside the base is a whirlwind of

activity, soldiers sprinting across yards and hurrying down streets

clogged with APCs. As I jog to the office, I pass behind one truck

and look up to see twenty wide-eyed faces staring back.

Women and men just a few months out of

high school, barely trained in the weapons they hold in their

hands. They stare at me with a combination of fear and excitement

that races through the air like an airborne virus, infecting us

all. War. This is what we’ve trained for, this is the moment

we’ve prepared for, the moment of truth, and I’m grounded. The

123rd are packing to join the front and I’m stuck behind a

desk.

Fuck.

In the elevator I think I should talk

to Max. She’d have the latest reports from the field—Tomas’s name

should be in them. They’ll be classified but she’ll let me see

them, I know she will.

I pass my office and make it halfway

down the hall before her secretary stops me. “I’m sorry, Captain

Rickert,” she starts.

She’s a cute girl, with strawberry

curls and freckles that give her a perpetual tan. The smile she

gives me says she hopes I understand, but I brush by her for the

door. “Sir, Major Keagan isn’t to be disturbed—”

“She’s expecting me,” I

lie. Damn, it gets easier each time.

I push through the door. Behind her

desk, Max stands and glares at the intrusion. Her height, a few

inches taller than my six feet, is only enhanced by her slim figure

and the long, unbroken stretch of her drab-green uniform. Add in

the heels she favors and she seems to tower over us, disapproval

raining down. “Molly?”

Then her icy blue eyes glance my way

and she sighs, her frosty demeanor melting. “Jace, what are you

doing here?”

“Major, I’m sorry, ma’am,”

her secretary stutters.

Max waves her hand in dismissal. “It’s

okay,” she says, meeting my livid gaze. “I’m sure Captain Rickert

here pulled rank on you. He can stay.”

The secretary closes the door, locking

me in with the Major. Despite her height, Max sinks to her chair

with an air of grace and another sigh that seems to deflate her.

Before I can ask, she says, “I don’t know any more than you

do.”

“f**k that.” In two steps

I’m at her desk, shuffling through papers and ignoring the red

Confidential stamp across them as if that word doesn’t

pertain to me. “What do the reports say? I know you’re getting them

on the hour. Is he in them?”

Max tries to snatch the papers from me

but I pull them away. “Jace, this violates protocol, you know

that—”

“Have you even read them

yet?” I can be insistent when I want something, and right now I

want to know anything I can find out about Tomas. “Max…”

This time she manages to take the

papers from me. “Can’t you read, Captain? Confidential means

you can’t see them. I could get canned for even letting you

in here right now, you know that.”

Squatting down, I prop my elbows on

the desk between us and rest my head on my hands. In a low,

pleading voice, I ask, “How long have we known each other,

Maxine?”

Uncertainty flickers across her cool,

blue eyes.

“I’m not asking as Captain

Rickert. I’m not asking to leak info to the media, you know

that. I’m asking as a friend, Max. I’m asking as a lover,

because my boy is out there somewhere and I don’t even know if he’s

alive…”

I choke back a sob; it’s all Max can

do to look me in the eye. She knows how much Tomas means to me, and

even if she doesn’t condone it, the relationship she can’t deny.

“Just let me see the list. Please.”

For a moment I think she’s going to

say no and tell me to leave, but then she opens a desk drawer and

takes out a large manila envelope. Opening it, she extracts a thick

stack of glossy papers, faxes from the field the commanders send in

every hour, reports of casualties and enemy activity and the things

they don’t say on TV. I hold my breath as she leafs through

the papers, looking for…

“Here.” She hands me a

sheet covered with names. “You have ten seconds. Find his name and

get the hell out of here. I never showed you that.”

I nod as I scan the page. A few names

jump out at me, people Tomas has mentioned from the 49th, mixed in

the alphabetical list. Four or five of them are marked

MIA—missing in action. What’s that supposed to mean? Is this

what Rosser meant by mostly?

I count them off—Vasquez, Ward,

Simpson, Essner…enough to suggest Rosser sent out a scouting party

and these poor soldiers were the ones chosen for duty. Who knows

where they were when the bombs hit? Who knows where they are

now?

Tait, Tomas R., 2nd

Lt.

My heart stops in my chest. God, no,

please no, please—

MIA.

Jesus. f**k you, Rosser.

I close my eyes and the letters blaze like neon in my mind. MIA.

No one knows where he is…least of all me. “Jesus

Christ.”

“I’m sorry,” Max whispers,

taking the paper back from me. It slips free from my nerveless

fingers and I swallow against the sudden thickness clogging my

throat. “They’re looking for him now, Jace, I promise you. We have

search parties—”

“This wasn’t a recon

mission. This was a peace-keeping stint, nothing more. He had no

right to send them out like that.”

Max sighs. “You don’t know if that’s

what happened.”

Bullshit. I know Rosser and I know the

kind of man he is, and that’s exactly what happened, I’m

sure of it. Before I can argue, Max shakes her head, cutting off

further inquiry. “Get back to work, Rickert. We all have things to

do—”

“The 123rd is leaving for

the front.” I stand my ground. “Request permission to join them,

Major.”

Shock flits across her features and is

gone. “Permission denied.”

I clench my jaw in anger to keep from

saying anything out of line.

“You’re grounded, Captain.

You can’t fly—you’ll be no help to your unit out there. They need

you here.”

“Tomas needs me. Let me go,

Max, please—”

“No.” Her stern voice

leaves no room for argument. “You have your duties, Rickert.

They’ll bring your boy home soon enough.”

When I open my mouth to speak, she

turns away. “Another word and I’ll bring you up on insubordination

charges, Jace. Don’t think I won’t. We’re in the midst of a war and

I need you here. You’re one of the best men we have, so pull

yourself together and stay with me, okay? Keep your head on

straight and he’ll come home, you’ll see.”

Somehow I don’t believe

her.