Hohenbruck Army Base, Germany
Day 3
02:00 hrs, Wednesday
Sleep filtered away slowly. Jo resisted her body's effort to wake her. Warmth surrounded her. She curled her body, coming up against another body.
Jo opened her eyes. She looked right at the soft mat of hair on Roper's chest. She squeezed her eyes closed, remembering the night before. She could still feel where he had been inside of her.
They were lying on the floor, entwined. Roper held her against his chest, his chin resting on her head. She could see the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept on.
Part of her wanted to get as far away from his as possible. The other part urged her to close her eyes and snuggle back against him. The indecision left her motionless. She tried to clear her mind, figure out a clear course of action. An ache in her heart begged her to stay. Her mind told her to get up, get away.
She turned her head slightly, looking at the clock on the desk. It was still very early but her flight to Basra left in a little over an hour. Heart or not, she needed to get up and ready to go. She looked at Roper's chest again. She did not want to wake him, did not want to talk to him. She did not even know what to say. She did not even know what to think. The turnaround from seeing him with his wife and children to him being inside of her left her feelings in a jumble. She did not know if she was hurt, frightened, angry or even happy. She needed to extricate herself and get away.
Jo slid her leg from between his, feeling his rough skin graze against hers. Roper moved but did not wake up. Jo clenched her teeth, moving her head, loosing herself from his arms. Roper rolled over, resting on his chest. She slipped out from underneath the blanket, covering him back up. She sat up, wrapping her arms around her chest, looking down at him. It took everything in her not to reach out and touch him.
Jo stood up. She grabbed her fatigues that she had set out the night before and her shower kit. She dressed quickly in her fatigues and headed down to the shower, making sure to close the door quietly so not to wake Roper. She showered and changed as quickly as she could. She opened the door slowly, peeking in her room. Roper still slept. She tiptoed back in, stowing her shower kit in her rucksack. She spotted her running clothes from yesterday on the floor by Roper's head. She thought about just leaving them there. She tiptoed around him and gathered them up, stuffing them into her rucksack, too. She snapped up the sack, grimacing with each click. Roper slept through it.
She needed to get out. She picked up her sack, lifting it over her shoulder and headed to the door. She looked back at him, unsure. She opened the door, looking out. The corridor stood empty. She left her sack outside the door and closed the door. She walked hesitantly back over to where Roper lay and knelt down next to him. He slept on. She reached out to touch him then pulled back, sitting back on her heels. Her heart got the best of her. She reached out, running her finger over his brow. He made a noise in his sleep. She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. His skin was surprisingly soft against hers. She touched his lips, remembering the feel of his mouth against hers. She ground her teeth, getting up and running out of the room, grabbing her boots on the way out.
She grabbed her rucksack, lugging it down the corridor to the chairs in the common room. She pressed her lips together, willing herself not to cry as she pulled her boots on and laced them up. She took the time to check to make sure she was in proper order before lifting her sack and headed out of the barracks for the last time. She checked her watch as the barracks doors closed behind her. She had less than a half hour to get to the airstrip. Carrying her sack, she could do it in about fifteen minutes.
A car horn blared in the morning air. Jo jerked her head up. Burns' car pulled into the parking spot in front of her. Burns poked his head out the window.
"Get in. I'll give you a lift." Jo hesitated. He raised his eyebrows when she did not move. "Come on then." She still did not move. "McDonagh." She finally moved, slowly. She threw her sack into the back seat and got into the front. Burns looked her up and down before pulling out. Jo focused her attention out the window. Neither of them spoke as he drove.
The airstrip loomed in front of them. The C4 all ready stood on the runway. Soldiers were busily loading the plane through the back ramp. This would not be a comfortable ride with airhostesses. Jo stared at the plane, the enormity of her decision hitting her, hard.
"Are you all right?" Burns asked, quietly. Jo looked over at him with what she hoped was confidence.
"I'm fine."
Burns pulled right up on the tarmac, stopping a few hundred meters from the plane. Jo did not waste time getting out and retrieving her sack. She had all ready turned to head for the plane, pulling her orders out, when she heard the car door closed. Burns stood by the side of the car.
"Thank you, sir." She said formally.
"Jo -" he started. She waited. "Are you sure about this?"
"Sir?"
"I mean, are you doing this just because..." he trailed off.
"No, sir. I'm a soldier. I'm supposed to be where the war is." She told him, not because she believed it at this moment, more to get that fatherly look off his face. Burns looked less concerned, giving her that incredulous look that she had come to know, shaking his head.
"Keep your head down, yeah?" He shifted uncomfortably.
"Of course, sir." She gave him a smile, turning away again, heading for the plane.
Even before the plane had pulled to a stop, Jo could all ready feel the cold. She did not know how many time zones they had passed over. She knew it was still in the early morning hours here. She could hear movement outside the plane when they finally came to a stop. Jo started getting herself unbuckled, pulling her headset off, moving to the door. She was up, out of her seat even before someone from the back had the door open. She had her rucksack down as the door opened and hopped out past the soldiers waiting outside. They all took a step back at the sight of her.
Jo surveyed her new surroundings. Even at the dead of night, lights glared about. Weapons here were everywhere. Quiet Germany seemed a very long way away. Dust covered the tarmac, all ready all over her boots and clothes. Jo had heard about the dust here. A red cap pulled up in a jeep nearby. The biggest man she had ever seen got out of the passenger side.
"Sgt. McDonagh?" She nodded, having to crane her neck to see his face as he came to stand in front of her. "Staff Moulton. Good to meet you." He slapped her on the back, almost knocking her over. "You, luv, can call me Steve."
"Jo." She said, moving out of the way when it looked like another back slap was coming. He laughed, a hearty, booming sound.
"Well, get a move on." He told her, heading back to the jeep. Jo slung her sack into the back, crawling into the backseat. "This is our resident boy scout, Corporal Alliwell." Steve introduced the driver, who looked terrified.
"Corporal." She nodded to him. He started the jeep and careened off the tarmac.
"Well, as you've probably guessed, you're not in Germany anymore." Steve gave her a running commentary as they were stopped at a checkpoint. "Security is tight here. Keep your identification on you at all times. Weapons are standard issue but don't pull it out willy-nilly, if you know what I mean. Don't go out in the city by yourself." Jo nodded, watching the city rush by. The chill here seemed more bone chilling than even the winters in the north. It was a dry cold. "Captain's name is Blyth. Good man. The Sgt. Major is Glover. Also a good man. Takes a little getting used to but don't you worry about it. Watch out for Staff Haith. He fancies himself something of a ladies man. You're fellow Sgt. is Sowden. Good kid, young, ready to take on the world and just a little too smart for his own good." Jo smiled at that. "You just keep close for a couple of days. You'll get the hang of it. Any hot postings before?"
"Algiers. Bosnia." He nodded.
"You're from Close Protection, yeah?" She nodded. "Perhaps you can give Alliwell here some driving lessons then." He pounded the corporal on the shoulder, almost throwing him right out the window.
"Staff!" Alliwell protested, yanking the jeep back to the lane. It was a good thing it was so early or they would have wound up in incoming traffic.
"What's the situation like?" She had to shout to be heard over the clunking as the jeep hit a hole in the road. Jo held on, her rucksack bouncing in the back.
"Germany with guns." He joked back. "Same squatties. Same bollocks." They stopped at another checkpoint. These were not lackadaisical base gate guards. They had their weapons trained on the jeep and checked over her papers thoroughly before letting them through. "We'll get you settled in the barracks. You can catch a nap. Morning briefing at 08:00. You can meet everyone then." They passed through another checkpoint, just as thorough, before slamming to a stop in front of a pock marked building with a couple of windows blown out. "Keep it quiet. The boys are pretty serious about their sleep." Steve's voice boomed in the quiet.
Jo grabbed her sack, following the two of them inside.
Their footsteps echoed down the concrete corridor, up the stairs, dimly lit by a single bulb burning from the ceiling. Steve motioned to a door to the right. A piece of tape tried to hang onto the door pencilled in with her name. All ready, the tape had come loose, curling at the edges, the glue on the back all ready coated in the dust that clung to everything. Jo nodded, opening the door. Steve and Alliwell carried on down the hall.
If she didn't know better, Jo would have thought she had walked back into her room in Banja Luka. This was the same cinderblock room with the creaky army bed and caged window. Jo tossed her sack onto the bed, bringing forth a cloud of dust. She tried to muffle her cough. She did not turn on the overhead light. The darkness suited her. She had no idea what time it was here. She had forgotten to check the time difference. She kicked her sack off the other side of the bed, displacing yet another cloud of dust, throwing herself down. Without removing her boots, she laid back, clasping her hands on her belly and closed her eyes. Oddly, sleep came immediately.
The knock boomed throughout the room causing Jo to almost fall off the bed. She was up before her eyes were even open. The sunlight nearly blinded her.
"Sgt. McDonagh. Section briefing, 5 minutes." An unfamiliar voice called through the door. She rubbed her eyes, trying to figure out where she was. Reality hit the minute she opened her eyes.
"Be right there." She called.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" Jo spun around as the door opened. A tall, lanky soldier stood there, leaning against the doorway, looking her up and down appreciatively, sparking her ire.
"Who are you?" She snapped. He smirked at her.
"Staff Haith. Boss sent me to escort you to the incident room." He looked at her chest. "If you can get yourself properly attired." Jo looked down. Her shirt had come unbuttoned all the way to below her breasts. She pulled it closed, glaring at him. He smirked again. "I'll wait outside." He turned, walking out but left her door wide open.
Jo faced away from the door, buttoning up her shirt. She tried to push her irritation away as she smoothed her hair back into the bun at the nape of her neck, replacing the pins holding the short ends back. She shook herself and went out. Haith smiled at her, making her skin crawl, before turning. He strode off down the corridor, his long legs carrying him so fast that Jo had to run to keep up. She almost tripped, hanging onto the stair railing to keep from tumbling down. Haith did not even break stride. He passed through the stair door. Jo ran into it as it swung back. Jo threw it open, keeping herself down to a quick walk, refusing to rise to his bait. She saw Haith disappearing into a door to the left. Jo quick-stepped in and slammed to a halt.
"Cup of tea?" Moulton asked brightly.
"Yeah, thanks," she managed, walking forward.
"Sgt. McDonagh." Captain Blyth walked forward.
"Sir." She stood at attention.
"As you were. Did you have any problems getting here?" He asked pleasantly.
"No, Sir." Moulton handed her a chipped mug of tea.
"Very well. I'll leave introductions to the Sgt. Major. Glad to have you here." He smiled at her and left. Jo took a swallow of tea, waiting.
"Well, then." A neat, balding man stepped in front of her. Jo looked up at him. He looked her over, not looking terribly impressed. "Get the niceties out of the way. You've met Staffs Moulton and Haith. That one over there is Sowden, your fellow sergeant." Sgt. Major Glover told her, pointing out a grinning kid all of twenty-five years old. Sowden was busily cleaning his pistol at his rickety desk.
"Can we get down to business now?" Haith asked sarcastically. "Or are we going to have a group hug, too?" Glover stared at her, as if she was the one who said it. The scowl on his face did not break. Jo kept her face neutral.
"What's happening, Boss?" Steve asked.
"The story broke last night on CNN, that's what's happening. We've got reporters crawling all over the place. Now the Americans have decided to lend us a 'hand' and the Iraqis are screaming at every camera they see about how the occupiers are stealing their national heritage. That's what's happening." Glover bellowed. "This is not acceptable."
"What are we going to do about it?"
"We're going to find every single piece of stolen property moving through our base and return them to their rightful owners, that's what. We are going back down to the warehouse and show the powers what we've all ready uncovered and then we're going to search every bloody warehouse that we control. There will be a joint press conference with our command, the Americans and the Iraqis at the warehouse. We're going to make everyone feel warm and fuzzy and then we're going to find out who is responsible for this mess and string them up to the nearest light pole for mucking up my morning."
"All right. You lot heard the Boss. Get moving." Steve clapped his hands. Jo got up slowly. Steve all ready had Sowden by the back of the shirt, propelling him out the door.
"Josey, get moving." Steve hollered back at her.
A convoy of trucks stood, engines running, waiting for them when they reached the courtyard. Jo smoothed her beret over her hair, readying herself for the chaos she could all ready hear on the street outside the front gate of the base. The courtyard milled with soldiers. It looked as though Glover had mobilized every RMP in Basra for this. They were busy climbing onto the trucks. Jo followed Steve and Sowden to the lead jeep, jumping into the back. Steve got into the seat next to her, the entire jeep leaning under his weight. Alliwell hopped into the front next to Sowden. They all turned, watching Haith, Glover and Byth, who seemed to appear out of nowhere, get into the jeep behind them, waiting for the RMPs to finish loading up. Finally, truck horns started sounding, letting them know they were ready to go. Sowden pulled out, wheeling around and heading away from the main gate, towards the side one instead, with the convoy following.
"No point dealing with the bastards if we don't have to." He called cheerfully over the noise.
"You have those manifests for the crates from yesterday?" Steve called up to him. Sowden handed back a sheath of rumpled papers. Jo leaned over as Steve went through them.
"Anything? Any pattern at all?" She asked. Steve looked over each sheet, handing them off to her as he did.
"Nothing. I'm not seeing anything. You?" Jo read through each manifest. There was not a pattern in what kind of shipments going out of the base. Of the five objects they had found yesterday, two had been in crates of weapons headed for disposal, one had been found in a personal parcel, another in a crate of broken machine parts and the last in a sack of ball bearings that were being returned for whatever reason. There was not even a pattern in where the shipments were going. None of the containers were headed to the same base back in the UK. The weapons for disposal were actually headed to Hohenbruck.
"I talked to-" Steve never finished the statement. A wash of bullets ripped through him, tumbling him over Jo's lap.
Jo did not hesitate. She rolled herself out of the still moving jeep as ticks of metal on metal blew past her, dragging Steve with her. Everything from bullets to rocket propelled grenades were flying through the closed in street. She did not remember pulling her sidearm but she shot a man in a scarf that ran at the other side of the jeep. His head exploded into an explosion of red as the jeep shuddered to a stop. She grabbed Sowden, still behind the wheel, dragging him out of the vehicle. Alliwell was not even recognizable as a human being. His body had been shattered by a blaze of gunfire, shielding Sowden.
Jo and Sowden dragged Steve behind a pile of bricks, peeking up to survey the situation. Their ragged jeep was blocking the road ahead of the convoy. The close in building on each side of the street did not give enough room for the larger trucks to pass. At the rear of the convoy, Jo could see trucks burning, flaming bodies jumping from the back, still alive, to the street to writhe. The screams echoed off the bricks.
"We have to get the jeep out of the way." She shouted to Sowden who nodded. They jogged back across the open pavement, ducking and weaving. They had almost reached the jeep when Jo felt the whoosh of the RPG blow over her head. She ducked, dragging Sowden down with her as the projectile hit the jeep, the heat of the explosion so close she smelt her hair burning. She pulled Sowden back with her to the pile of bricks Steve still lay behind.
"Check on him." She ordered Sowden, trying to find a way out.
RMPs were falling everywhere. Their attackers had stationed themselves on the roofs of the buildings, shooting down. There was no place for anyone to escape.
Jo heard the grind of a transmission, looking up just in time to see Haith pull the second jeep past their burning one. His and Jo's eyes met as he careened by, leaving them there. Glover and Byth lay bloodied, not moving, in the back.
"You bastard!" Sowden screamed after him. The jeep disappeared down the street. Jo grabbed Sowden by the shirt as he leapt.
"How is Steve?" She shouted, trying to bring him back to the situation at hand. She would deal with Haith later. Right now, she had to figure a way out of this.
"He's dead." Sowden screamed. Jo turned around. Half of Steve's head was gone. She grabbed his pistol, still in its holster and his spare clips, changing out the empty clip in her own gun. She peeked out again.
Their attackers were launching RPGs at each truck in turn. There was no place for the RMPs who fired back to hide or shield themselves. The only thing shielding she and Sowden was a crevice in the front of the building where they huddled. Jo lifted her pistol and started picking off the men leaning over the roofs of the buildings, drawing their fire down on her. She dropped three, their weapons tumbling down to the street, before she felt Sowden pick her up and toss her through the door of the building to their right. She landed hard, knocking her jaw against the packed floor. She was back on her feet, ready to run back into the battle as he came flying through the door, spinning her around. She heard his shout just as a blow connected to the side of her head. Everything went black.
Anger. Jo opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling of the room wondering why she was so overwhelmingly angry. Involuntarily, her entire body tensed, ready for a fight. Sharp pain ripped through every part of her. Yesterday. Yesterday they had gone through that entire depot. That was why her body hurt but why was she so angry? She stared up at the pock marked ceiling, her vision tunnelling and then clearing. Tea. She thought she could smell tea. It was not tea, though. This smell hung thicker in the air. In the heat, it smelled meaty, metallic. The smell hung all about her. Wet. She was lying in something cloyingly wet.
Jo tried to move and, for a moment, she thought her body had rebelled against her. She managed to get her arm up. She stared at the rivers of red snaking down her skin, not understanding what it meant and why it made her even angrier. A drop of the red liquid splashed on her face. She reached to wipe it away, rubbing the smears of red between her fingers, trying to discern what it was. She held her fingers to her nose. The red smelled of the cooking meat that wafted all around her. The red was blood but why was she bleeding?
Jo managed to sit herself up. Her body very nearly rebelled this time. She checked herself over, not understanding why she found cuts all over her arms and hands but understanding somehow that they were not serious enough injuries to cause the pool of blood she found herself sitting in. She checked herself over again. Her uniform was in shreds. She could not find her beret where she usually stowed it in her pocket. She was in uniform. She should have her beret. She found herself inordinately furious that she had lost her beret.
Metal clanked somewhere. Jo looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. She was not in her barracks. She looked around again, trying to figure out just where she was. The room could have been her barracks, minus the furniture. A light bulb in the ceiling illuminated the square cinderblock room. Besides her, the only other thing there was a pile of blackened, greasy, wet cloth. Jo sat on the floor, looking around, growing ever more angry at every passing moment and still not understanding why.
The door slammed open. Jo watched as three men in. They gathered around her, standing over her as if she were a child. They were dressed in army uniforms but not British army. They had black scarves wrapped around their faces.
"Kneel." One of them barked at her, making her jump.
"What?"
"Kneel." He yanked her up, putting her off balance. She put her hand down in the pile of cloth to steady herself. It was not a pile of cloth. She did not have time to process the information when he dragged her to her knees, pressing her down to sit back on her heels. Jo looked at her hand that had touched the pile of cloth that was not a pile of cloth. Somewhere, someone was jabbering something she could not understand.
"Who is your informant?" Another one of the men ordered her. She looked up from her hand to his face, shielded as it was by the swath of material. His words were thickly accented.
"What?"
"Who is your informant?" He grabbed her by her hair, yanking her up off her heels. Jo reacted without thinking. She went straight for his knees, toppling him back against the wall and landing one good fist into his belly before she was off the floor, flying across the room. She hit the wall, hard, sliding down to the floor, using the momentum to push herself back up. She launched herself back at the men, knowing that she could not overcome them and yet still determined not to go down without a fight.
She was caught, mid-air and tossed to the ground. She came face to face with the pile of cloth that was not. She stared into the glassy, dead eyes of a pretty RMP she had last seen laughing in the courtyard of the base. She kicked at the hand grabbing her ankle. A flush of memory hit her, Steve's mangled head, Sowden's rage, smells of burning human flesh. She twisted, planting a well-aimed kick to one of their knees, satisfied at the scream of pain it brought. She jumped to her feet, ploughing through them when a hand grabbed her hair, yanking her legs out from under her, crashing her back down to the floor. Two of the men jumped on top of her.
Jo fought with every drop of strength in her. For a moment, she got the better of them. One of them grabbed her throat, making her gasp for breath. The other man grabbed her hands, binding them behind her back with something that cut into her flesh. She twisted in their grasp, trying to worm herself free. He grabbed her throat tighter. The one she had kicked in the knee struggled to his feet, leaning back against the wall.
"Who is your informant?" The one who held her throat asked again. His black eyes glittered. Jo glared at him.
"McDonagh, J.-" He slapped her, hard, across the face.
"Who is your informant?" Jo had no idea what he was talking about.
"McDonagh-" He smacked her again, harder. She swallowed blood.
"In the warehouse, who is your informant?"
"What?"
"In the warehouse, who is your informant?" He repeated. Jo clenched her teeth. This was about the pieces they had found in the warehouse.
"McDonagh-" He hit her with his fist, the blow twisting her neck. Jo twisted her head back around, looking him squarely in the eye.
"Who told you to look in the warehouse?" He growled at her.
"McDonagh-" He punched her. Blackness crowded in for a moment then cleared.
"Who told you about the warehouse?" He shouted.
"Piss off." She shot back at him.
This time the blackness did not clear.