Wow. Thank you all so much for your reviews and comments, they really mean a lot. Since you all seem to like this one a lot, I'll give you the second chapter. I had a chance to type it up today while my family are watching the first England game of the world cup. This will start off slow, but there will be plenty of action later on. Descriptions will get better too, i think i have to rewatch the episodes set in africa! Once again, thank you for reviews.

Chapter Two

Just Another Day At The Office

As we ride in the jeep to where Carter is working, I try hard to ignore the headache that is slowly but surely growing worse. I wish that I had some tablets or something. I swear that the constant chatter between Ray and Debbie is the cause.

"And just what is wrong with the Dixie Chicks?" Debbie exclaims in mock anger.

"Do I really have to answer that?"

"Sorry, Ray. It's the only music I own. Here at least" Her laughter follows and I wince. Perfect, just perfect.

The rough terrain outside doesn't help matters either, with the constant jerks and movement because of the sandy ground beneath us. I sip my water gratefully as I stare at the endless desert rolling past underneath a sapphire blue sky.

It seems to take ages to get there and I feel relieved when we finally come to a stop. The reality of the situation soon hits me though at the site that greets us. There are hundreds of families, men, women and children of all ages crammed into tiny living spaces. They all look tired and distressed, and you can see the effects of the war that is tearing their country apart reflected in their eyes. Really what was a little headache compared with what was going on here? Lack of food, water and medical supplies made their lives barely liveable. They were basically just surviving.

The vastness of all the problems almost made me want to run and hide. To run back and go home to Chicago. But hiding never helped anyone. And then I realised why Michael had been doomed from the moment he set foot in Iraq. It wasn't just his father pressuring him to go back; he had his own strong sense of honour too. So much, that it had blinded him from the truth. There would always be another war, just round the corner; it had always been that way. But he hadn't given up his fight for peace, even though it killed him. I remember Michael had tried to tell me this in our conversations, but I don't think I ever truly understood. So now she wouldn't give up either.

I turn to Debbie. "Where do we start?" but I don't wait for an answer and walk out in front, heading down to the small town, but not before I hear a comment behind me.

"She doesn't like me does she?"

And Ray's answer - "She's complicated."

We walk in silence and I feel tears threaten again (It seems like I'm always crying these days). Debbie swiftly overtakes me as she leads the way to the clinic, Ray by her side. "I want to help them all," Ray whispers. "I really do."

Debbie gives us an almost wistful smile. "I was young and innocent like you two once," she said. "One at a time Ray. One at a time."

I think to myself that I don't feel particularly young or innocent at the moment.

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If I thought the airport was bad, the clinic was worse. Things back home, although I was used to people, there was always a sense of order somehow. Everything was reasonably controlled. There was none of that here. "Carter! Hey, Carter!" Debbie calls out. Ray and I both smile at the same time in recognition, as John Carter heads in our direction.

"Newbies for you," then she disappears in a whirlwind of colour and motion.

"Hey guys," says Carter, finally catching up to us.

"Hey," Ray replies. "You're not exactly living the life of luxury out here are you?"

"Ray!" I hiss at him, embarrassed. But Carter only nods in understanding.

"I was like that too, when I first came to work out in The Congo area. Seems like a long time ago now. So, how was the journey here? Good? Any trouble?" we moved on, Carter beginning to give us the grand tour.

"No, it was fine," I reassure him.

He nods. "You're lucky. Pratt had to walk here." There's a moment of silence after this remark.

"All that way? You're kidding right?" says Ray in astonishment. Then - "You're not kidding!"

"You can shut up now Ray," I tell him, and for once he does what I tell him!

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Please, someone, anyone let this day be over with already, I think to myself as I work on what feels like the millionth patient. I look over at Ray and see him working with a ten year old with a broken arm (A simple complication compared to most. we're lucky when we get these cases, and so are the patients) and I realise with grudging respect, that he is handling all this better then I original thought he would. Even better then me. (Another thing I won't be telling him anytime soon.)

We hear a sudden, desperate cry outside the walls made of thin material, and then the patients who can walk and are not desperately ill start to head outside. "What's going on?" Ray asks me, and I shake my head, also bewildered.

"Supplies just in," says a nurse outside our room, in her thick accent. "You'd better batten down the hatches. Good luck!" then she smiles and disappears, but I take heed of the warning. We finish up with our patients as quick as possible and go to investigate, soon followed by John and Deb.

"Thank God, I was getting worried," says Debbie.

"How come?"

"They're two days late." with that, Deb runs up to the truck to greet a man climbing out the back carrying the medical supplies, holding the boxes close to his chest. I stand back and watch with a sad smile as they kiss and embrace quickly, before hurrying back to us. I soon see what the nurse is talking about, because if they're not careful the truck will be overrun. The mob is now crowding in, banging and shouting on the doors at the back, that are now firmly closed.

"Shouldn't we do something?" I ask in concern. John shakes his head wearily.

"They all know the procedures, they're just desperate. The food supplies are distributed elsewhere."

Debbie and the stranger had now managed to get through and Debbie was introducing us. "This is Dr Dakarai."

He smiles at us mischievously. "How was your first day here?"

I end up smiling back, my first real smile in what seems like ages. "Oh, you know, the usual."

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It's later that night and I find myself unable to sleep. Not used to the confining nets around the bed, I get up to go for a walk outside. I head towards the area outside the sleeping quarters set up for staff. There are two small wooden tables, one of which has a lamp set up on it for light, and I'm relieved to find that I'm not the only one awake.

John and Ray are sitting their quietly talking, and a woman also sits beside Ray, one I don't recognise.

"Hey," Says Ray, looking up. "Can't sleep?"

"This is Gillian," John puts in. I nod at Gillian in greeting, but am instantly wary of her. She sits close to Ray, her arm slightly brushing his as she reaches for drinks. I can't understand why this bothers me, but it does.

"Hi." she says in her thick French accent. "I usually work in the Congo area. But Carter called in a favour, so here I am. I take it you'd be Neela?"

I sit down next to her. "Hi."

There's a moments awkward silence.

"I was just telling everyone about what I like to call the recent end of year disaster back home," Ray informs me casually.

John sighs at this. "Seems like nothing ever changes. No matter where you are, bad things happen. Tell Luka and Abby…tell them I'm sorry." he says hesitantly.

"I'll tell them."

"And about Gallant. I didn't get a chance before Neela. But I…."

"I know. You're sorry," I try not to control my emotions. "But that's not what I came out here for."

Gillian, who is now sitting beside me and Ray, suddenly links her arm with mine, as if we're are now best friends. I flinch at this, but luckily she doesn't notice. "You heard the girl."

They move on to trivial matters. Ray talks about how he wishes he has his guitar, and starts to mention the band he had a chance of joining. But I soon realise that they are treading on eggshells, dancing around the subjects that would normally make for interesting conversation, and then I feel guilty for no sane reason.

I fake a yawn. "You know, suddenly exhausted. Think I will just head to bed."

As I head back inside, I hear Gillian's calls something out to me. "Good idea. According to Debbie, today was a slow one. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?"

Great. Well, if I was wide awake before, there's no way I'm sleeping now!