The usual disclaimers apply.

Chapter warnings: depictions of battlefield injuries.


"My name is Neema Sefu, and I am the leader of the Central African Freedom Movement. Please, sit down, Lieutenant Arendelle. I think we have a lot to talk about."

What…? Anna stood frozen in place, eyes darting back and forth between Neema and Lockhart. She quashed the urge to chicken-wing Lockhart's arm and pin his face to the floor for jerking her around. Like I could do that anyway.

Neema took one of the cushions at the head of the table, eyeing her with that eerily familiar expression again. She gestured for Anna to sit, and Anna's innate curiosity kicked in, overriding her wariness.

She settled on a cushion to Neema's right. Lockhart sat down opposite her. What, exactly, was his role here? The concussion-fueled throb in her head was becoming a distraction just when she needed her clearest thinking.

"Please, eat something," Neema said. "I suspect it has been several days since you had a decent meal."

Anna's stomach let out a loud rumble before she could reply. She felt her cheeks heat up at the amusement on Neema's face. "Yes, it has been," she said as she reached for the nearest bowl. "MREs don't really qualify as 'a decent meal.' Honestly, I'm not really sure they even qualify as actual food."

Neema laughed. "Hopefully you will find this a bit more appetizing."

Following Neema's cues, Anna cleaned her hands with the small damp towel beside her plate. Then Neema showed her how to form the starchy paste, which she called ugali, from one of her bowls into small thimble-like shapes, which were then dipped into a spicy soup and eaten in one bite. It was surprisingly good, and Anna ate with relish, which seemed to please her hostess. The food seemed to help her headache, which ebbed to a dull thump at the edges of her temples.

When they finished their meal, Neema poured wine for all of them. Anna idly swirled the glass in her hand, wondering where a rebel camp had gotten what appeared to be a fine South African wine. Maybe the camp wasn't as isolated as it appeared. So she asked.

"Despite what you may have heard about us, we are not completely uncivilized here," Neema said.

Anna carefully set the glass back on the table. "You have no idea what I've heard."

"You have been in conferences with the government and the Muscovians about us for the better part of a week. I have a very good idea of what you have been told."

"How do you know what I've been doing? How did you even know I was here? Our participation was not exactly publicized." Or was that something else the Americans decided not to tell me? Her temper strained at its leash as her headache roared back. "What the hell is going on here? You said my being here wasn't an accident. What did you mean by that?" She glared at Lockhart. "And I know you're not telling me everything! What about Jefferson and Doc? How many Americans are here? Does Combs know about them? Does he know we're here?"

Lockhart held up his hands in a slow-down gesture. "I can't talk about what Combs does or doesn't know."

"Can't or won't?" So much for my diplomatic skills. Anna rubbed her temples, trying to chase away the herd of elephants thundering through her skull. She patted around her pockets, biting back a curse when she realized she'd left the damn Motrin in the other hut. "And what about Captain Vasilek and Sergeant Okoye? Are they here too?"

"They are here," Neema said.

"Are they okay?" Anna demanded.

"They are under guard, for obvious reasons, but they have not been maltreated."

"Really?" Anna retorted. "Vasilek didn't look too good after a couple of your so-called soldiers got hold of him. I hope he still has all of his…appendages."

Anger flitted across Neema's face, a brief crack in her impassive mask. Then she wore that appraising look again, and Anna could almost feel the force of her personality. God, she reminds me of Elsa! It was the same cool gaze her sister used, the one that seemed able to cut right through to the heart of a person and size them up immediately.

Anna straightened her back and met Neema's eyes. "You said my being here, in this camp, wasn't an accident. What did you mean by that?"

Neema said nothing for a long moment, then seemed to visibly make a decision. "I knew you were on the resupply plane. I asked Captain Jefferson to bring you here."

"How…how did you know that?" Anna's mind raced. Then a nasty suspicion occurred to her, and she clenched her fists under the table. "And if you knew that, why did you shoot the plane down? You couldn't possibly have predicted that I would survive that!"

"We did not shoot that plane down, Lieutenant Arendelle, we do not have that kind of weaponry. We know where the outpost drop zone is located. I simply asked Captain Jefferson to try to pick you up there, if he could do it without engaging the soldiers. I did not want you harmed."

"If you didn't shoot it down, then who did? It sure as hell wasn't engine failure that took it down!"

"We are not the only fighting force out here."

The MCA army. They have Muscovian weapons. Anna twisted her fingers into her pant legs to keep them away from her temples. "But…but why would the MCA government shoot down their own airplane?"

"Perhaps they knew you were on it. I did," Neema pointed out.

Anna couldn't keep her jaw from dropping. Assassination? She shot a glance at Lockhart, whose thunderous expression told her that he hadn't considered that possibility either. "What…what could they possibly have to gain from that?" From killing me…?

"President Mwenye desperately wants to keep international groups out of Central Africa. The murder of a neutral observer would do much to damage the reputation of CAFM, especially at the UN."

Rattled, Anna let her mouth run away from her. "Slicing off the wangs of teenage boys who won't join your army doesn't do much for your reputation either."

Anna barely kept from flinching as Neema's fist came crashing down on the table, rattling the dishes. She grabbed at her wine glass before it could spill in her lap. Whoa, Anna, that wasn't very...diplomatic. Guess Elsa's not the only one you have a gift for needling…

"I cannot control everything that the field commanders do!" Neema snarled.

Anna just raised an eyebrow and glanced at Lockhart, who wore a slight smile. Neema scowled, then took a swallow of her own wine and composed herself. "You are correct, Lieutenant Arendelle. The people should join us because they share our goal, not because they fear mutilation or death if they don't. Old warrior practices die hard, but that is not something I tolerate. I deal with it, harshly, when I find out about it."

"I dealt with it for you, no worries." Shit, that was unfair, Anna. And stupid…don't forget stupid. You cannot be a smart-ass with this woman.

Neema did not rise to the bait this time. "You must also understand that the Muscovians have committed horrendous atrocities themselves, and we have lived with it for more than a hundred years. Many of my soldiers have lost their whole families to the Muscovians, who exploit our people and destroy our villages. The desire for revenge is understandable."

"Is that why you brought me here? To justify yourself?" Anna asked, trying to settle herself back into some semblance of neutrality.

"I brought you here because we have no voice at the table where decisions are being made about our future," Neema replied. "We need someone to be that voice."

"And what makes you think I'm on your side?"

"I think you'll be on the side of justice."

"You don't even know me."

"No, I do not. But I do know that if you are anything like your sister, you will choose what is right."

Wait, what? Anna just stared at her, stunned.

"Yes, I know who you are, Princess Anna of Arendelle. Your country's reputation as a fair arbiter is largely due to the standing of the Royal Family. I have had the privilege of meeting Queen Elsa, who is a strong credit to that standing."

Anna opened and closed her mouth a few times, fighting her urge to word-vomit. Was this whole stunt a ruse to get to Elsa? If only the damn elephants would stop stampeding through her head and let her think straight. Finally she managed, "May I ask where? Where you met Elsa, I mean?"

"I met her at the World Humanitarian Summit a few years ago. She was the keynote speaker. We were introduced at the reception afterwards."

"In New York, right?" Anna asked. She remembered Elsa making a trip to New York. Mostly what she remembered was being highly pissed that she couldn't go along. She had been at university, in the midst of term-end exams.

"Yes," Neema replied. "I doubt she would remember me. She met many people that evening, and I was simply another staff member for CARE."

"And yet she inspired you to come home to lead an armed insurrection?" Anna regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me?

"LT…" Lockhart said with an edge to his voice.

Neema held up her hand to silence him. But before she could say anything, one of the rebel soldiers stuck his head through the door.

"Jayei. Tafadhali kuja na mimi." He gestured sharply for her to follow, a tense look on his face. "Haraka."

Neema shot Anna a withering look before leaving with him.

Lockhart let out a low chuckle. "Well, LT, if your goal was get under her skin, I think that one was a win."

Anna glared at him, struggling to think through the pounding in her head. What do I do now?

"I need some air." Anna got to her feet. "And some space to think," she added when Lockhart started to rise as well.

She took a deep breath when she stepped outside. A few men still hung around the pavilion, though Captain Jefferson was no longer among them. Snatches of angry conversation reached her ears. Lockhart's earlier warning popped into her head. Perhaps walking right past a group of unhappy rebel soldiers was not the smartest idea.

She skirted along the treeline, intending to go back to the hut where she'd showered and take another Motrin. But without Zuri, all the paths looked the same, and she found herself walking in circles.

"Oh my God," she groaned when she passed the pavilion for the third time. She sank onto a fallen tree at the edge of the clearing.

She sat there with her head in her hands, mind spinning from the meeting with Neema. How much of what the rebel leader was true? She knew who Anna was, had known that Anna was on the resupply plane. How did she know that?

She must have a source - or sources – at the conference. It was likely that there were CAFM sympathizers inside the government. One of them probably saw me leave, or was watching me. Guess I wasn't as clever as I thought.

Well, Elsa's been Queen for seven years and she says she's still figuring out how to do the job. Why should I expect to be any good at this?

Elsa. Neema obviously wanted to use Anna to get Elsa directly involved. She knew why – Arendelle's long-standing traditions of neutrality and humanitarian leadership gave Elsa's voice tremendous weight internationally. A simple statement from Elsa in support of CAFM would probably be enough to get them a seat at the table.

But was getting them that seat the right thing to do? Anna buried her face in her hands as she realized that Elsa had entrusted her with nothing less than Arendelle's international reputation. A reputation built on centuries-old ideals of individual freedom and tolerance, but one that could be blown by one poor decision if they gave moral cover to a group that used mutilation, rape, and slaughter to recruit people to their cause.

Everything she'd been through for the past few days seemed insubstantial compared to the crushing responsibility that settled over her shoulders. Was she capable of carrying it?

A hand touched her knee. Anna raised her head to see Zuri standing in front of her, a wide smile on her face and the baggie of Motrin pills in her extended hand.

"Oh, Zuri, you're a lifesaver." She took the baggie and washed down one of the horse pills with a swig from the canteen Zuri offered. Even the foul taste of the MRE kool-ade couldn't dim her relief. "How did you know I needed that?"

"Bit told me." Anna followed the little girl's pointing finger and saw Lockhart leaning against one of the pavilion support poles, talking to the soldiers. "Did you get lost?"

"I did. Guess I can't get anywhere around here without you."

Zuri grinned. "Can I sit with you?"

Anna nodded and Zuri surprised her by climbing into her lap. She gave the little girl a hug. "Thank you for bringing me the medicine."

"Bit was laughing because you were lost."

I just bet he was. "Why do you call him Bit?"

"Because he's so big." Zuri held her arms as far apart as she could.

Anna giggled. "Yes, he is. How long have you known him?"

Zuri shrugged. "He used to stay here. But then he went away and I didn't see him for a long time."

So I was right. He has been here before. That's why he speaks the language, why he knows his way around, why he knows Neema.

Was Lockhart Neema's source? Was that how she had known Anna was coming?

And if he was the source, did Combs and the other Americans in the delegation know about all this? Or was Lockhart acting on his own?

It was time to get some straight answers from him.

Before she could act on that thought, a shadow fell across her. She looked up to find Lockhart standing over her, a grim look on his face. "LT, could you come with me, please? There's something you need to see."

"Okay." Curious, Anna lifted Zuri off her lap and followed Lockhart down a path away from the pavilion. Zuri tagged along, clinging to Anna's hand as they hustled to keep up with Lockhart's long strides. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Several people rushed by them, disappearing down the path ahead of them. Lockhart picked up the pace, and Anna and Zuri had to trot to keep up with him. They came up to Doc's clinic, and Anna heard screams and shouts coming from behind it. They ran around the building. A long tent with red crosses on the sides stood behind the clinic.

Anna stopped short when she saw the burned and wounded people being taken off trucks parked next to the tent. "What happened?"

"I don't know for sure, but they need every hand they can get." He touched Zuri on the shoulder. "Stay out here, mdogo."

Zuri nodded, her eyes wide.

They ducked inside the tent to find a scene of barely controlled chaos. All around them lay burned and wounded people, men and women and children, bloody and shrieking and crying. Doctors and nurses shouted instructions over the noise. Anna swallowed the bile rising in her throat.

"Doc, where do you need us?" Lockhart called.

Doc looked up from where he was crouched, examining a man whose chest was covered in blood. He said something to the two men standing over him, and they picked up the stretcher and carried it toward the far end of the tent. Doc pointed to a small, roundish woman who stood in the middle of a group of cots. "Help Doctor Ekwensi."

Doctor Ekwensi put them to work tending to patients who weren't in immediate danger. For the next several hours, Anna cleaned and bandaged wounds, started IV lines, and splinted broken bones, giving silent thanks for the Krigsskolen's combat lifesaver training.

If only the training had included how to block out the cries of the wounded, ignore the smell of blood and charred flesh.

She tamped down hard on her anger as she worked on a woman whose belly was round with pregnancy. Blood flowed from a hole that went all the way through the meat of the woman's shoulder, and painful-looking burns covered one side of her face and neck. Anna ripped open a field dressing and applied pressure to the wound. The woman held the hand of a crying boy on the cot next to her. Lockhart spoke gently to the boy as he splinted a broken arm.

"Who attacks children and pregnant women?" she muttered under her breath.

"The Muscovians."

Startled, Anna looked up to see Neema standing beside her. "What?"

"These people were protesting at a coltan mine not far from here. The mine's security forces attacked them when they wouldn't disperse." Neema wiped her sleeve across her sweating face. Blood stained her blouse and skirt. She helped Anna wrap the woman's shoulder to hold the dressing in place. "This is not the first time this has happened."

Doctor Ekwensi stopped by and did a cursory exam, then told Anna to start an IV. Anna tied a latex glove around the woman's bicep, then swiped an alcohol wipe across the crook of her elbow. She got the IV going while Neema talked to the woman.

The woman let loose a torrent of tearful Swahili, gesturing wildly at the boy next to her. Anna grabbed at her arm to keep her from ripping out the IV. Neema used a piece of tape to secure the needle to the woman's arm.

"She says that the soldiers threw fire grenades at them, and shot at them when they ran. Then they chased them into the forest and beat the people they could catch," Neema translated. She frowned as the woman went on. "Her son's arm was broken when he tried to protect her from being beaten."

Anna bit back a curse as she squatted down next to the boy. He couldn't have been a day older than ten. "MCA troops did this? Or the mine security?"

"There is little difference. The mine security forces are like private armies. They are often better armed than the government soldiers, who just turn a blind eye to these atrocities. At least when they are not actively participating in them."

Anna looked up at her. Neema's voice was level, but Anna could see rage and despair warring on her face.

"You asked why I came back, Princess Anna." Neema gestured around the chaotic medical tent. "Now you know." She turned on her heel and strode away.

Anna watched her go, then turned her attention back to the boy. Doctor Ekwesi had rejoined them, and removed the splint on the boy's arm to set it. She shook her head in response to Anna's question about an anesthetic.

"How do I ask him his name?"

"Jina lako ni nani," the doctor replied. She gave Anna a slight smile. "To tell him yours, you say 'Jina langu ni'..."

"Jina lako ni nani?" Anna asked the boy.

"Daniel," he said.

"Jina langu ni Anna." She took Daniel's good hand and held it tight as the doctor manipulated the broken bone. His screams felt like a kick to her gut, and she bit her lip to keep from crying herself.

When the bone was set, she wiped his tears and told him how brave he was, though she knew he didn't understand her. He looked up at her with large dark eyes. Suddenly all she could see was the teenage soldier from the jungle, the one she'd killed, staring up at her with pleading eyes as his last breath rattled out of him.

The sounds and the smells and the very air of the medical tent seemed to abruptly close in on her. Freeing her hand from Daniel's, Anna fled, stumbling outside as her vision tunneled. Somehow she made it to the steps of Doc's clinic, where she sat down heavily and dropped her head between her knees.

What have I gotten myself into?


A/N: I know it's been a while, but I've finally picked this back up. Thanks for sticking with me - the next update should not take so long.