Chapter 16: The Longing

The Imp divisions around their position were obliterated. Intelligence gathered by scouts painted a picture that made it clear the last assault the enemy had launched was all the Imp army had left, every reserve thrown into the fight. Even if the bombers hadn't come into to decimate what remained, and even if the Imps had been able to overrun the position, it would have been a largely Pyrrhic victory. They would have been unable to exploit the situation and move, in force, against Denver.

Willow let the medic patch up a few of her scratches only after all the other wounded had been seen to. What was left of her brigade was frighteningly undersized. She'd lost two hundred dead and hundreds more wounded. With no hope of reinforcement for weeks or months, the brigade was only marginally combat effective. Thankfully, the two divisions in the area were not backed by another force further back, the majority of Imp divisions still committed to the east trying to defend a strong push by the Free Americans to take back the Colorado.

While that fight was up in the air, Willow knew she needed to rest her troops. She'd requested redeployment to the city and was given the order to hold her position a few days then fall back through the lines of two battalions being sent from Denver to hold the ridge in their place. Willow hadn't asked why those battalions couldn't have been sent to reinforce her during the fight, but she understood that there were thousands of civilians and valuable infrastructure in the city which could not be left without defense, and she recognized the good sense decision to maintain those troops in case the Imps had gotten through the mountains and prepared to assault Denver.

If she'd failed on the ridge, an assault into Denver would have been easy, though not without seriously being contested. There were almost three divisions in and around the city, substantial artillery and air power available as well. However, the assault, if it had happened, would have forced a withdrawal of forces fighting along the Colorado, and it would have weakened the push to secure the resources to the south. Willow hated the cost, but she had to feel somewhat proud to know how vital her soldiers were to protecting their loved ones and their city.

Willow had no real connection to Denver. It was just where she ended up when the Patriots began to form and organize. It could have been anywhere, really, but Denver had become the seat of the Free American government and a center of what was left of western US civilization. She couldn't accept calling it the United States, no matter what the politicians in Denver said publicly. The land controlled was tiny compared to the much larger territory to the east and seated in Chicago. And the political system put in place still suffered from deficiencies of civil rights and democracy which left it in the hands of autocrats and ideologues.

If the fighting ever ended, or if Willow found the time to leave the right one, she began to think more and more to going east and, maybe, following her father back to the Appalachian mountains. She'd grown up in the Badlands of Montana, and Willow had always loved the rugged, rural lifestyle. Even when she'd known conveniences and comforts, she'd felt at home camping and hunting and living her teen years more interested in learning how to cook game than chasing boys. The way her father had described his life, even when it sounded lonely and isolated, made her long for simpler days ahead.

"Hey, Sweatheart." Hitch stood over her bed as she opened her eyes slowly. It had been almost three weeks since he'd seen Kieu-Linh, and for several days, he wasn't sure if she had survived. He finally tracked her down, thanks to Willow, in a hospital near the Patriot headquarters in Denver. "How are you feeling?"

The doctors had told him that while Kieu-Linh was stable and recovering, she had had an infection which had been aggressive and had left her weak. While she had beaten the infection, it would be days more before she would be able to leave.

She smiled up at him, delight blossoming in her eyes. "James! Oh, James! Oh! Hold me!" Her arms raised up, weak, towards his body. He leaned over the bed and wrapped his own around her back, pulling her up against him. Kieu-Linh groaned in mild discomfort, but she held onto him tight and wouldn't let go.

They kissed deeply and shared a moment of intense relief together. "I've missed you so much, Linh ... God, I've missed you."

She smiled again. "I know. I tried to get someone to send a message to you, to tell you I was okay, but I don't know if it got to you."

He shook his head. "I just found out you were here this morning. I've been trying to track you down for days. We got back in the City over a week ago, but so many people have been wounded in the fighting, the whole system is overwhelmed and chaotic. Not surprised that I didn't get your message. But, I'm so, so glad to find you."

"Tell me everything!" she said, sitting up slightly.

Hitch told her that they'd stayed on the ridge a few days, and while there had been a few minor skirmishes between patrols and Imps too stubborn to give up and retreat, there had been little left of the Empire's forces in the area. They'd been relieved by divisions moving up from Denver and passed through their lines, returning to the city and being assigned to rest and refit for a few weeks.

The battle for the Colorado had stalled out after the Free American divisions had taken most of its length. Casualties had prevented them from following up and pushing the Imps back further, but a planned offensive in the coming weeks was likely to renew that fight, and Hitch told her he wouldn't be surprised if the Patriot brigade was finally absorbed into the main army and sent to fight there.

"Will you go?" Kieu-Linh asked.

"I ... I don't know..." Hitch had been turning his thoughts for some time. He'd given everything as a Marine, again with the Turtletown Patriots. Even after swearing The War was behind him, he'd fought in the Rockies, mostly because Willow needed his help. But he didn't want to keep fighting. He hated that he'd risked his life in a fight not really his own, and worse, he'd seen Kieu-Linh risk hers countless times because of him. "I haven't decided. They promoted me to full bird Colonel after the battle and made me Willow's new XO, though there's talk of having me take over a regiment or brigade of my own." He paused, then said, "Officially, I'd be going AWOL if I didn't deploy with my unit, but ... I don't know, Linh. I just don't know."

"I'm going where you're going, you know that. I don't ... I don't want to fight again ... but I'd do it for you."

"I know," he wanted to change the subject, not yet clear in his own thinking. "Someone else is here to see you. You've earned something you should be proud of. Be right back."

He went out of the room, Kieu-Linh eyeing him suspiciously, and returned with Willow and her aide behind him.

"Hello, Sergeant. Good to see you recovering," Willow said, unable to stop the smile on her face from spreading. She'd worried so much for her father when they couldn't find out where Kieu-Linh had been taken. Her condition had been stable in the field, but far from certain longer term. The thigh wound had been bad, and she'd seen lesser injuries kill more robust soldiers in the past.

"Colonel Hitchens! Ma'am!" Kieu-Linh saluted her with a smile.

Willow removed her cover and stepped up to the bed. "How have you been, Linh? This old guy bothering you?" she said, grinning at her father.

"Not bothering me enough," Kieu-Linh said with a chuckle.

"I have something for you, Linh. Something you've earned beyond any doubt." Her father had written up a recommendation for a Medal of Honor, but the system frowned on handing that out except in extraordinary circumstances and, more importantly, usually it was given posthumously. In fact, no MoH had been awarded to a living soldier in more than three years. Instead, she'd gotten approval for a Distinguished Service Cross, the next highest honor.

"Normally," Willow explained, "you'd be in uniform, but right now, that's not possible. Instead, we're going to take you out into the courtyard a moment for this event." She ushered in an orderly to wheel Kieu-Linh behind her, her father holding the teen's hand, Kieu-Linh asking curiously what was going on.

Outside, in the spacious courtyard lined with trees and large bushes, the surviving members of her father's First Battalion were in formation and looking sharp in their dress uniforms, some on crutches, others tenderly holding arms missing hands, or thighs with no calves or feet below, and there were more than a few wheelchairs. Willow could see the faces of the men and women before her light up, one by one, when they saw Kieu-Linh rolled in. "What is this?" the young woman asked as she sat up in her bed, clearly delighted to see the soldiers she'd served with during the tough weeks in the mountains.

Willow turned her back on the troops and faced Kieu-Linh, pulling a paper from her breast pocket. She began to read. "Sergeant Kieu-Linh Hitchens, for extraordinary bravery and for risking your life in the service of others during the Siege in the Rockies, you are hereby awarded the Distinguished Service Cross. During the battle, you displayed courage while in extreme danger and, on many occasions, risked your own life to defend your position and support your brothers and sisters in arms. During the assault on October 12th, you ran through voluminous rifle fire, machine gun fire, grenades, and mortars to deliver ammunition and supplies to platoons heavily engaging the enemy, and you brought back wounded soldiers from the front line under similar dangers.

"During the fight for the cut, you risked yourself repeatedly to run messages between the positions and effectively communicated with your superiors while being under fire throughout. At great risk to your own life, you rushed into an enemy position to pull back a wounded comrade, saving his life. Despite being seriously wounded during this rescue, you later refused evacuation in order to stay at your post, ensuring that you maintained unit cohesion and readiness throughout. Your commanding officer and his subordinates, together and individually, have affirmed your bravery and your decision-making, your actions performed under extreme conditions and with disregard of numerous injuries suffered during the battle. In short, your courage displayed does honor to you, to your battalion, and to your country." She rolled up the commendation and pressed the medal into Kieu-Linh's, hands. "thank you, and congratulations, Sergeant."

Cheers went up all around the courtyard as the battalion solders showed their support of the award. Willow shook Kieu-Linh's hand, the young woman clearly overwhelmed but keeping her face calm though clearly thrilled. "Thank you!"

"I've got a basketful of Purple Hearts for you, too. I'll see you get those sent to you." She smiled at the young woman and said, "I have a meeting to attend, but I want you to know," Willow said, nearing a whisper, "that I'm really proud of you, and ... I'm really happy that you and my father are married. I know he's very proud of you, too."

Willow stepped away and watched a moment as the men and women from First Battalion rushed up to congratulate Kieu-Linh. The young woman seemed overwhelmed. Willow watched her father a moment, and she could see the pride and love in his eyes. She'd meant what she said, and Willow had to turn quickly and head inside before her soldiers saw the tears forming in her eyes. Willow, too, was overwhelmed. It had been a long time since she had felt such a mix of joy and relief and satisfaction, and she spent many minutes, alone, in the bathroom, crying softly and trying to understand how much had changed for her since her father and Kieu-Linh had come to find her.

It had been four days before Kieu-Linh was cleared to leave and recuperate at home. As a Colonel, Hitch had been given a private residence, a townhouse a block from where they'd stayed with Captain Justice. He'd visited the woman once, expressing his gratitude and offering return the favor in any way he could. Justice had waved away his offer and said that she was just glad he had been able to reconnect with his daughter.

He'd even started to draw a paycheck, an unfamiliar reward which he'd taken in credits, the unit of monetary value which was used in Denver and other Free American locations. He'd even received backpay for time spent in the mountains.

Kieu-Linh was able to walk with crutches, only gently putting weight on her wounded leg, but generally capable of doing so without assistance, so he opened the door and waited while she climbed inside.

"Nice place you got here, James," she said, admiring the small but comfortable home he'd been given. "Show a girl to the toilet?"

He pointed to the small bathroom and set about to make a dinner of spaghetti, a dish they'd both enjoyed when staying with Captain Justice.

They ate quickly and then settled on the couch together as the weather outside grew cold in the early November of Denver.

"Sorry we didn't get to celebrate your birthday," Hitch said, holding Kieu-Linh against him, not wanting to stop touching her skin. On her face, her neck, her shoulders, arms, and feet, her flesh was riddled with healing shrapnel wounds, some as small as a pinhead, others as long as her fingers. The larger wounds were still covered with bandages above her right eye and on her thigh and leg. Hitch was careful not to touch her forming scars. It made him very sad to see the damage done to his young wife. It made him angry. It also made him proud of her.

"I don't care," Kieu-Linh replied, "we didn't celebrate yours, either. I'm just ... so happy, James, to be here with you, now. The weeks we were apart ... that was hard ... even when they had me on drugs which made me loopy, I missed you terribly."

"Believe me, I understand. I was going crazy with worry about you. I started to think I'd lost you..."

"You won't lose me, James. I'll always find you if you don't find me first."

He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. "My sweet girl..."

"Woman," she corrected him, "see?" she said, pulling the DSC medal out of her pocket, "could a girl have won this?" Kieu-Linh smiled up at him slyly.

Hitch shook his head and chuckled, "there are few people of any age who could have won that. You were something special, Linh. I mean that. And I should know, I've seen many men and women risk their lives in combat. I don't think I've seen anyone do it for so long and so many times and take so many risks like you did that night. That ... was something impressive."

"I did it for you. I wanted you to be proud of me, I guess, but ... I also knew we needed to give everything to survive. You taught me that. I didn't really think about it at the time, the risk, that came later. I just ... did what was needed, nothing more..."

"You did enough. More than enough. I cannot tell you how proud I am of you." He knew as he spoke those words that he wouldn't go back into combat. He understood that Kieu-Linh, who, in addition to being awarded the Distinguished Service Cross, had also been promoted to Staff Sergeant. Hitch knew that Kieu-Linh would go back with him if he returned, and she'd risk everything, as she already had, to save his life and the lives of his men. Even with his new full-bird status, and his likely distance from the front lines that brought, she'd still put her life on the line for him. Hitch knew she'd been incredibly lucky to live through it before. He couldn't stomach letting her risk herself like that again.

He spoke nothing of that to his young wife. Instead, he sank into a kiss and melted together with her for a while, Hitch wishing she was well enough to let him make love to her. It had been many weeks since they'd been together, and other than rushed moments of orally pleasuring each other before the battle, they'd known no other intimate contact since that night in Captain Justice's tub. He longed for that touch, but he was content for a time with Kieu-Linh in his arms and her presence filled him with a deep desire to show her his love and to see that she returned, safely, to their home to the east.

Willow was troubled. For several weeks, she'd been in meetings with Generals and politicians, all of whom wasted her time wanting her to recap the battle to the west of the city and relive the terrors and fears she'd managed to hold back well enough to function at the time. Like all soldiers who saw combat, and especially those responsible for ordering men and women to die in the cause, she was haunted by the faces of the dead and the bloody, brutal scenes that the battlefield always contained. She couldn't shake the feeling that it was all pointless, and as she recounted, for the third time that morning, what it was like to see the bombs dropping on the terrorized Imps, she nearly exploded in anger and frustration.