Chapter 25

I replaced the 9-millimetre back into the waistband of my flight suit. Yeah, I had my flight suit tailored to fit my unique physique, so it had a waistband where I could have stuff clipped on for instant access: spare magazines, torch, multi-tool, and the 9-millimetre. Always ready and at hand.

I looked at Max lying in a heap there in the sand. This shouldn’t have happened. But otherwise, why would he have flipped his lid and charged at me? He knew I was armed; he said it himself. Or did he just lose it; his body’s desire to strangle the living daylights out of me suppressed his brain’s rational reasoning to let it go?

Shaking my head, I turned to TC and the others, about fifty metres away, and gestured for help to get Max back to the camp. Three of the Rangers sprinted in my direction.

“Take him back to camp,” I said as the Rangers reached me, and they picked Max’s shoulders up and dragged him back to camp.

I reached the group at the fire and saw Darya standing a little to the side. The expression on her face was one of silent relief, although I saw a strange light in her eyes; something I could not describe.

“Now what?” TC asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “First let him wake up, then we’ll take it from there.”

“Can we hand him over to the Namibian Police?”

“Yes, we can. There’s plenty of evidence against him.”

“I presume you are going back to the ship?”

“Yip, I’ll just have to get my chauffeur first,” I chuckled.

“Oh, I thought she could stay awhile longer,” TC said and looked down to the ground.

“Stop speaking about me while I’m within earshot!” Lorie chided.

“You want to stay awhile longer, Lorie?” I asked.

“As much as I want to, I need to get you back to the ship, Egghead.”

“I can crash here somewhere. It’s not that bad.”

“Come on, Ash, go get some rest. We can all get together for breakfast or brunch if you like,” TC said.

“Yeah, well, it’s getting to be morning in a short while. Lorie and I can just stay here.”

Then it’s settled. I’ll get Lorie and you a place to go get some shut-eye.”

“Thanks, TC,” I said, and felt tired.

The day has been a bummer from the word go. Since landing on the ship this morning, it has been a wild ride. The clock was ticking on to midnight, and my eyes felt heavy. I also thought of Lorie. She was there with us all the way, and by now she will also be dog-tired.

“Well, let me go safeguard the prisoners and get your bunking sorted out,” TC said as he turned away and started to give instructions to the Rangers.

I turned to Lorie. “Okay with you?”

“Sure! I can rough it.”

“I think Major TC wants to have some more time with you.”

“And big brother is going to give me a lecture now?” she smirked.

“Nope! You’re a big girl. You can look after yourself.”

“Thanks, Bro. That’s mighty nice of you.”

“You know I love you, Lorie?”

“Yes. One can choose one’s friends, not one’s family, but as family you’re the best,” she said and turned around towards the fire. “Go catch some zed’s, I’ll be okay.”

“Night Sis,” I said and walked over to the big tent.

“You can go grab some sleep, Ash,” TC said as I entered through the tent opening.

“Want to get rid of me?” I asked.

“Nope, just that you look a little under the weather. It’s been a rough day.”

“Yeah, it has been. So, where do I crash?”

“Anywhere you want. Over by the back side of the tent, it is somewhat private. There’s a sleeping bag and other stuff. You can close that screen there also.”

“Thanks. What about Lorie?”

“We’ve got a one-man for her, or should I say, a one-woman tent.” Chuckle. “I had it set up a while ago.”

“Thanks, man! Let me go hit the hay.”

“Roger that. I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well,” he tossed over his shoulder as he left.

As TC walked over to the fire, a shadow broke away from the side of the tent, away from the moonlit eastern side. The shadow made its way to the tent opening and slipped in into the tent, blending with the shadows inside the camouflaged tent. The shadow had a mission. A mission to find out the lay of the land, and to make sure that the consequences would not be too severe.

Darya needed to make sure. Today she brought shame on herself and the Rangers. She failed in her mission. Max was still breathing, and Angie was in pain. It’s all her fault. She had missed: twice in one day she missed. The consequences will be severe for her. She needs to speak with Captain Windsor, to hear if he will allot her the same punishments as at all her old units in Tajikistan, China, and Russia. The normal punishment for failure. Maybe, just maybe, captain Windsor will give her some leeway and not do it in public.

I dropped onto the sleeping bag and just laid there for a while. I felt dog tired, but my mind didn’t want to switch off.

“Are you sleeping, Captain Windsor?” A soft female voice came from outside the screened area. Darya! I did not hear her come into the tent.

“Nope, but it can happen any moment.”

“Okay, sorry. I’ll chat to you in the morning then, Captain.”

“Come on in, Darya. I’m not that tired.” There was a rustling as the screen was moved, and she came through the opening, closing the screen behind her.

“What’s up, Girl?” I asked. She was standing as if she was unsure of what to do or say next; standing half to attention; and trembling like a reed in the wind.

“I ... I just ... wanted to talk to you.”

“Come sit down here. Standing there, you make the place look untidy.”

“No! I’ll stand for a while.”

“Come on, I don’t bite.”

“Okay.” Nervous giggle. And Darya sat down next to me on the sleeping bag, keeping a respectful distance from me and crossing her legs one over the other in front of her, wringing her hands in her lap.

“So, what troubles you? I’ve been noticing throughout the evening that something was bugging you.”

“I missed that last shot ... It ... it happened only three times before...”

“And? It’s not that big a deal, Darya.”

“Yes, it is...”

“It’s not! Missing one out of ten is a good score. Gives you a ninety percent average. Damn good, if you ask me.”

“I messed up and need to be punished. Just ... please don’t punish me with everyone in the camp watching...” she said and looked over at me, her eyes pleading.

“What? Are you crazy? At best, it was my fault, Darya! It was I who clobbered Max. His body moved. I whacked him, and he went down the moment you fired. In that split second it took the bullet to get there, his body was not where it was supposed to be. So, it’s not your fault.”

“I should have compensated for it. Like with Angie, I was too slow. I could have prevented her being shot.”

“That was not your fault either, Darya.”

“It was. Twice in one day, I screwed up!”

“Did the Major say anything to you?”

“No...”

“Then it is okay with him, and I have no problem with it also. Besides, that creep did not know what he was doing and nearly missed Angie in total. He only nicked her.”

“Still, she is in pain, and it is my fault,” Darya said, and her eyes were moist as if tears were very nearby.

“Darya, listen to me. You could not have known that he was aiming at Angie. You saw a guy firing on our people and took him out. Ten out of ten for that. You need a medal for that,” I said, and Darya turned her head towards me. Her dark eyes were full of hurt. A deep hurt. It was more than her missing her target tonight and preventing Angie from being shot. Something that happened a long time ago, and still has an impact on her young life up to now.

“Speak to me, Darya, what makes you so sad?”

“I fucked up ... and as always ... I need to be punished for my incompetence.”

“No, you did not!”

“I did!”

“Don’t say that again. It happens. Life happens. Mistakes are being made, and we learn from them and move on.”

For a long time she sat frozen, immobile, not saying a word; just looking at me. Her eyes darted over my face. Then she turned towards me and pulled her legs up under her.

“I was not trained this way,” Darya said after a while. “I was trained to be successful. To hit my target every time I depressed the trigger, and if not...”

“If not, what then, Darya?”

“I was punished.”

“Punished how? Extra PT?” I asked, and Darya just looked at me. She sat up on her knees and turned away from me. Then she unbuttoned her desert camo top, removed it and dropped it to the floor. She reached behind and unhooked her bra; not taking it off, but just letting the two loose ends dangle at her sides.

I scanned her back and felt cold anger well up inside me. Dark whip marks criss-crossed her back. In some places, the smooth young skin was puckered, and clear scars were seen where her skin was ripped open, forming lighter-edged ridges where the untreated skin healed over time. I reached out and touched her back; she did not move away or flinch.

“No, not PT ... The first time I was belted with a leather strap. The second time was ten strokes of the single-tail whip on my bare back. The third time it was thirty strokes ... of the whip ... with everyone in the camp watching...”, and she broke down, sobbing. What could I do? I just leaned over and took her in my arms, pulling her towards me, and stroking her sleek dark hair with my free hand, while she sobbed and trembled.

“Why do you think I wear a full, one-piece swimsuit when we girls swim?” she asked through the sobs. I will be able to withstand another thirty or forty lashes. And with my back looking like that, no man wants me ... You were the first to even touch me...” She sobbed.

“It’s okay, Girl. The Major and I aren’t savages. We understand the dynamics of battle. This is the West. Here we do things differently,” I said, trying to soothe the girl. “This is not your fault, Darya. You didn’t screw up. You did well, very well. And if you did not hit that creep when you did, he would have shot Angie much worse with his second shot. So, stop crying and look at me.” Slowly the sobbing subsided and after a while, she looked at me with a tear-streaked face.

“You’re sure?” She asked in a faint voice.

“Positive!”

“So, you’re not going to punish me? Tie me to the flag-post and whip me?”

“For what? For doing your job? Don’t be silly,” I said, smiling down at her.

“Thank you, Ash.”

“Don’t thank me. Just realise that making mistakes is part of life, and one can’t always do things right. No one on Earth is perfect! Don’t matter how many calculations you do, nature will always play a hand. A sudden gust of wind, a movement of the target ... that you can’t predict. No one on Earth can predict it. It happens and is called Fate. You just have to make do with what life dealt you, and to hell with the rest.”

“Thank you for that advice. No one has ever told me so. Maybe ... the Dark Angel, Mai-Loan, but I did not realise it then.” There it was, the reference to Mai-Loan, the Dark Angel, leader of the Angels. The other girl, the Vietnamese girl, or is she Syrian, or Chinese? I’ll have to ask Leah or Olivia.

“Good! Now you know. Just keep on doing what you do, whatever you do, and be happy about it. Uh, I don’t mean, go around and kill everyone with that cannon of yours, I mean...”

Giggle. “I know what you mean, Ash. No wonder Angie has fallen in love with you. You are ... Never mind.”

“I wish you girls would stop starting to say something, and then just say; ‘Never mind.’ I hate not knowing what you wanted to say.”

“Maybe we girls don’t want you to know the obvious.”

“Don’t know what?”

“That we all do lov ... I mean, appreciate and respect you. Olivia and Leah will tell you the same. Only Angie gets to ... love you.” Giggle. “Olivia, Leah, and me, we’ll just have to sit on the side-lines and wait for our time to come ... To find someone ... like you.”

“Is it that obvious that I’m in love with Angie?”

“Angie knows it and her mom and dad know it. Lorie knows it, and now Leah, Olivia, and I know it.”

“Oh brother,” I sighed.

“And, I know something that Angie told me, that makes me think you were the one to discuss my punishment with...” Darya said, and there was a naughty twinkle in her eyes.

“What? What did she tell you?”

Giggle. “That she’s still due for a spanking!”

“Again! Oh, brother! You girls are getting me down. And I do regard you all as sisters to me. I will never let anyone hurt you or Leah, Lorie, Olivia, or Angie.”

Giggle, “You can let me go now ... It’s cold, and I need to put on my top.”

“Are you okay, Darya?” I asked as I let go of her. And she turned away to dress in her uniform top, but not before letting me glimpse some beautiful b-cup breasts, as she fastened her bra.

“Yeah, I think so ... I think I’m more okay now than before I came here.” Sigh. “Maybe short of a kiss, but that is Angie’s reservation,” Giggle.

“Come here sister! Let me right the wrong.” I said and took hold of her, turned her face to me, and kissed her. Darya’s eyes went big. Her hands flew up, then she relaxed in my arms, closed her eyes, and softly touched my face with both her hands. She fully turned to me and melded her body to mine, draping a leg over me, and pressing her bra-clad B-cups into me.

As we kissed, I tried to hold her, and my hand slipped inside her still unbuttoned uniform top, around her side on to hold her back. I felt her smooth skin and then my fingers touched the scars on her back. Lightly I held her against me.

“Hmm...” Escaped her hungry lips, a tongue searching mine. This girl is in need of love. No, not that kind of love! Get your mind out of the gutter. She is a lonely soul who needs the gentle, caring love of someone who can make her believe in life and the good things in life.

We broke the embrace and both of us sat up, a little flustered. “Wow! Does Angie know that she’s won the Lotto? You kiss good! Better than I ever had. Even my toes curled!”

“I know she knows I love her...”

“Thank you again, Ash. Good night...” Darya said and finished buttoning her uniform top. She got up and looked down at me.

“Spokoynoy nochi, Dar’ya.” I whispered. (Russian = Good night, Darya.)

“You speak Russian?”

“Sometimes. Not too well, but I do,” I replied, and she gawked at me. Slowly a smile formed on her lips, which were echoed in her dark eyes.

“Me too. Not too well, but I do too. Angie is a lucky girl. Spokoynoy nochi, Ash. Sladkikh snov.” (Russian = Good night, Ash. Sweet dreams.) She rose from the sleeping bag with a sigh, took a few steps, ducked out the screen of the enclosed area, and was gone as silently as she came. I hope she feels better. What a girl. Like Angie, an enigma on two legs. Oh well, let’s sleep. It’s past midnight.

I flopped back onto the sleeping bag, not even bothering to open it, and was gone in seconds.

(Let’s eavesdrop on TC and Lorie for a moment. ONLY, for a moment.)

TC left the tent and walked over to the fire. He saw Lorie sitting hunched forward on the camping chair. She was using a stick in her hand to scratch in the embers of the fire.

“Did your mum and dad not tell you that if you mess with fire at night, you’ll wet the bed?” TC laughed.

“Nope! Anyway, that’s old women’s gossip. I like to play with fire, and I’ve never wet the bed. I grew up on a farm and for some time we did not have electricity, only oil lamps and candles. We cooked food in cast iron pots on a “Sovereign Dover” wood-fire stove.”

“What kind of farm did you grow up on?” he asked and sat down on a camping chair next to her.

“Oh, cattle, some horses, some geese, and chickens. My dad also had about nine hundred or so hectares of maize.”

“You’re a farm girl then?

“Yip. Where did you grow up?”

“You’re not going to laugh at me?” he asked and sat back on his camping chair. “South of Fresno, along State Route 41 my folks have a little spread. Not as big and bold as some places around the area. Mostly cattle; raising and selling beef.” Chuckle.

“So, you’re a farm boy too? Fresno? That’s in the San Joaquin Valley in California?”

“Yip. Do you know the valley?

“Read about it. Did some research for my studies.”

“What did you study?”

“B.Sc. In Agriculture Economics and Farm Management,” Lorie said and smiled, looking over at TC. The flickering of the firelight reflected in her eyes.

“Wow! A uppity weeman, with a coollage daaghree!” he teased and chuckled at his own joke.

“Yip had to do something to counter my brother with his Ph.D. in Aeronautical Engineering...”

“Your brother is a doctor?”

“Yip. But you would not suspect it if you met him. Down-to-earth man with his head screwed on the right way. And he can’t write you a script!”

“I would like to meet him,” TC said.

“Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn’t, maybe you have ... But I have a feeling the two of you will get along just fine. He’s a little like you. Always near where there’s action, mayhem, and aircraft.”

“Is he in the Air Force?”

“Was. Now he is a private entrepreneur; mostly helping the unfortunate. But enough of me and my brother. Why did you choose a military career?”