His Woman in Command by Lindsay McKenna

Author:Lindsay McKenna [McKenna, Lindsay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Fiction, Romance, General
ISBN: 9780373276691
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2009-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

There was nothing to do but wait. Nike remained in the foxhole while Gavin made his rounds, running and ducking into the next foxhole to speak with his men. Their only communication was by yelling. He and his second-in-command had radios, but that was it.

Nike kept cautiously peeking over the top of the foxhole, watching below and wondering if they’d destroyed enough of the enemy to keep them at bay for another hour. She wasn’t sure. Wiping her mouth, which tasted of dust, she took one of the canteens in the foxhole and drank some water.

Luckily for her, she had her radio and could remain in contact with ops and any flights coming their way. Still, she felt dread. Was this how Gavin and his men felt all the time? The waiting? The wondering when the next attack would come? She couldn’t conceive of living in this type of nonstop stress. Her admiration for the A team rose accordingly.

The top of the hill was about the size of a football field, although rounded. The hill was steep and not easy to climb. There had been a wooden lookout at one time, but it had been splintered into oblivion by repeated by enemy mortar rounds. The scrub bush that coated the sides of the hill was massive and thick. Nike had seen it from the air and knew men could quietly sneak up almost to the edge of the top of the hill. Her adrenaline pounded through her. What would happen at night?

She could hear Gavin’s voice drifting her way from time to time. The foxholes were deep and the nine remaining men stayed in a circle at the top so intruders could be spotted coming from any direction. The afternoon sun was nearly gone and was dipping behind the peaks. As much as she tried to stifle it, Nike was scared for all of them, not just herself.

When Gavin leaped back into the hole, she noticed he’d put his Afghan hat back on. He wore body armor beneath the dusty white shirt, soaked with sweat beneath his armpits. It gave him a little protection from flying bullets.

“Like my digs?” he asked casually, putting his weapon next to him and taking another swig from one of the canteens.

“This is a special hell,” Nike said, frowning. Searching his sweaty, dirty face, she added, “I don’t know how you take this kind of stress.”

“It’s not fun,” Gavin admitted, twisting the cap back on his water.

“Has this hill been a U.S. outlook for some time?”

“Yes. And with great regularity the Taliban drops mortars on it hoping to kill us.” He gestured toward where the wooden tower had once stood. “We build the look-out tower and they come back and bomb it to oblivion.”

She shook her head. “I never realized the kind of danger you were in.”

“No one does until they’re up to their butts in it,” Gavin said, grinning. He took his weapon and made sure there was a round in the chamber. With the rag in his pocket, he tried to clean most of the dust off the weapon.

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