Life got busy and I needed to take a break from Makings...This plot appeared and demanded to be written. It's different from anything else I have written...Please Read and Review and let me know what you think...
Oops...sorry I just noticed the story layout...difficult to read. I tried to reorganise...Hope it's easier. Thanks for reading!
In the aftermath of the attack, burning embers glowed crimson as the evening shadows gathered. They were tell tale reminders of the massive fires that had devoured buildings, remnants left over from the destructive path of Cobra's Rattlers as they had born down mercilessly on the Joe Headquarters. The smell of burning wood and chemicals, sweet and pungent, lingered in the air.
"Yo Joe!," their weary cries had carried across the battle scarred ruins of the Pit.
Lady Jaye wrapped her arms tightly around her trembling body and squeezed her eyes shut. The battle had been a total nightmare.
Cobra had launched an all out air attack on the Pit and they had struck with deadly precision. The Joe's early warning system had failed and they had been caught unaware. But, even as the first run of Cobra missiles slammed into their targets, the Joes were already launching a retaliation.
Ace lead the team that scrambled the Sky-strikers into the air. Wild Bill followed with the Dragonflies. From the ground, Flint lead another team with the ground to air defence weapons. They hit them with everything they had, Sidewinders and SAMs and bullets. Cobra Rattlers crashed to the ground in flames. Others exploded mid-air. Hot metal rained from the sky. Cobra didn't get a second run. As quickly as they had come, they made a retreat, limping, into the gathering clouds. But, the damage had already been done.
The Joes on the ground worked fast. Some grabbed fire extinguishers, others sprayed water hoses. Rescues were already underway, with those unhurt digging the injured out from under collapsed buildings. The medical team had their hands full, setting up triage tents, caring for the numerous injured.
The Joes had won,
but at what cost?
Lady Jaye, standing alone, surveyed the damage in stunned silence. This night, she had witnessed soldiers giving their lives, a fate she had almost shared. Her thoughts turned to the casualties, Greenshirts she had never met, soldiers, like herself, whose names she had never known. Guilt and sorrow rose up in her heart. In the heat of the battle she had turned and found herself face to face with death. For a split second, time had stopped. The flash of a gun, aimed for her heart, was forever seared into her memory.
It should have been her. She should be the one fighting for her life, or worse…awaiting her final rest in a zippered body bag. But, it was not her, it was another.
Was it worth the cost?
Scarlet lay unconscious behind her. Her life's blood nearly drained by a single bullet. She would recover, and continue the fight. But, at what cost?
Was it worth it?
Roadblock lay still and free of pain, meds keeping him asleep, his leg and arm in casts. He would recover, and continue the fight. But, at what cost?
Was it worth it? Was it?
Lady Jaye's friends had thought so. They were laying on those cots in the infirmary because they had counted the cost and found it worthy.
And Flint.
He took the bullet meant for her. The bullet that smashed into his chest, that ripped through his lung. He was fighting for his life because he willingly gave his life for another, …for her. Would he make it through the night, to continue the fight? She didn't know. The cold and darkness wrapped around her, seeping into her heart.
"Was it worth it?" she spoke aloud, "…to you."
Flint once told her that, "The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it..."
― Henry David Thoreau
What was the price he would pay tonight? Had he given his life in exchange for hers? Was she worth the cost?
"Lady Jaye," Duke's voice called out. "We've been looking everywhere for you. Flint's awake."
"He's awake?," she asked excitedly. "He's going to be Ok?"
"Yes, he's asking for you."
"For me?" The excitement died away as her cheeks drained of color. She heard again Flint's agonized cry as he threw himself in the way, taking the bullet meant for her. She squeezed her eyes shut against the memory, against the overwhelming guilt. "Duke…why?," she shook her head in confusion. "That bullet wasn't meant for him," her voice became barely a whisper, "It was meant for me…"
Duke and Lady Jaye were friends, good friends. There were even times when he honestly believed he knew her better than she knew herself. This was one of those times. He was also best friends with Flint. He had watched Flint and Lady Jaye working together, growing closer, for almost two years now. They were not aware of it but he was, and so were others on the team. It was that obvious. Letting out a sigh, he took her hand and squeezed it. "Alison, Flint made his own choice. He did what he did because… well," his voice lowered, "…because he loves you,"
Jaye froze as she locked eyes with his. "He …loves me?" she repeated, the reasons behind events of the evening slowly dawning on her.
Duke nodded.
Lady Jaye felt her body grow cold. She began shaking uncontrollably. "I… had… no idea," she managed to stammer before the tears began in earnest. She buried her face in Duke's chest, struggling against the flood of emotions.
"It's Ok." he whispered into her hair. "Let it out." He knew this night had emotionally ripped her to pieces. He held her tightly, stroking her hair, whispering words of comfort as she clung to him, sobbing, until the storm had passed and she quieted.
"I'm sorry…," she mumbled, embarrassed by her outburst.
Duke took her firmly by the chin and tipped her face up so that she was looking directly at him. He took a long moment to search her red rimmed eyes, then he smiled. "Don't be." With a gloved hand, he wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Go to him…now," he ordered sternly. "He's waiting for you."
Lady Jaye caught Duke off guard when she suddenly wrapped her arms around him. "Thanks." she smiled softly.
"Anytime," he grinned sheepishly.
Then, with a nod, she hurried to the makeshift infirmary.
Flint stopped struggling and relaxed as she came up beside him. His eyes warmed at the sight of her.
She tried not to look at the various tubes of IV's, the machines he was hooked up to helping him breath, monitoring his heart.
"You're …Ok…" he gasped and coughed beneath the breathing mask.
"Don't try to talk," she whispered anxiously. Here he was, fighting for his life and his only concern was for her. A tear slid down her cheek. She smiled. "Yes, Flint. I'm Ok….thanks to you…"
He returned her smile, sinking back into his pillow. His eyes were heavy.
Was it worth it?
She held his hand, watching the regular rise and fall of his chest as he drifted into sleep, a tender smile on his lips. "Jaye…" he mumbled groggily.
He had nearly given his life for her, traded his blood for her blood. He would recover, and continue the fight. But at what cost? Was it worth it?
He thought it was. He, too had counted the cost and found it worthy.
Jaye thought about all the moments they had spent together, the meals they had shared, the battles they had fought side by side, the conversations they had enjoyed…even the playful bantering over pieces of poetry. She could honestly say she had enjoyed every minute. She had even found herself looking forward to their next times together and missed him when they were apart. She was never so much herself as when she was with him, never more complete than when they were together.
She stared into the darkness beyond the tent in surprise at this new revelation. When had she come to care so deeply for the brash Warrant Officer that she wanted always to be with him, that she.…, she gasped, …loved him?
Was it worth the cost?
Oh, yeah…
A cleansing breeze wafted through the base. In the distance the sound of Taps played as the flag was lowered to half mast. Lady Jaye smiled affectionately at the man asleep in the cot. She kissed the palm of his hand and gently placed it over her heart.