When Tony Met Adam (Short Story) by Brockmann Suzanne

Author:Brockmann, Suzanne [Brockmann, Suzanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-345-52987-9
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2011-06-07T04:00:00+00:00

Monday, 4 February 2008

“Really, guys, I’m fine,” Tony said, for what felt like the four thousandth time. Although this time when he said it, the words were contradicted by the fact that he somehow seemed to have face-planted in the dirt. He had some of the pervasive sandy stuff in his mouth and he tried to spit it out.

And failed.

He also failed when he tried to stand.

“Oh, shit,” he said to Mark Jenkins—who came over to put a wadded up shirt beneath Tony’s head, and help him wash his mouth out with a splash of water from a canteen—because he clearly wasn’t fine.

“Welcome back,” Jenk said.

“Did I go somewhere?” Tony asked, taking a second sip of water, and this time swallowing it. Jesus, his throat was on fire, and his head throbbed with every beat of his heart.

“Every now and then you vacate the premises,” Jenk told him, trying to hide his concern as he checked the wound that was now festering on Tony’s leg. “The vacating isn’t the problem. The problem is when you wake up and try to audition for So You Think You Can Dance.”

“Shit,” Tony whispered again, as Dan Gillman appeared beside Jenk, taking a look at Tony’s injury. Unlike Jenkins, he didn’t manage to conceal his apprehension as he took over the bandaging effort. He could hear the sound of gunfire in the not-too-distant distance. Clearly they were in the middle of mixing it up with the bad guys again. “I’m sorry.”

“We’re the ones who’re sorry,” Jenk told him, as he used a wet rag to wipe what looked like blood from Tony’s face. Yes, ow, he’d definitely scraped himself when he’d come in for a landing. “But we just don’t have the manpower to keep you from hurting yourself every time you try to get up.”

“Where’s Lopez when you need him?” Dan muttered.

“Just do the best you can,” Jenk murmured back.

“You should tie my hands and feet,” Tony said, and the look Jenk gave him would have been comical had they been damn near anywhere else in the world instead of the motherfucking middle of nowhere, in the mountains between Afghanistan and Pakistan.

Dan, however, looked as if he was considering it—tying Tony up to keep him from making a ruckus or just being a distraction. But the way he shook his head no was a strong clue as to just how much trouble they were in, considering Tony couldn’t crawl, let alone walk.

The nearest hospital was a helo ride away.

Or a long, dangerous hike through mountains filled with an enemy intent upon taking various and sundry parts from their dead bodies as souvenirs.

That same enemy had rocket launchers that made calling for a helicopter extraction a virtual impossibility.

“What we need to do,” Jenk said, “is get you out of here.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen,” Tony said.

“So what do you suggest, Vlachic?” Dan asked. “We just let you die?”

Tony caught Dan’s wrist with a hand that felt ridiculously weak. He could barely make a fist.

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