"This is Lieutenant Shadid of Cairo-2, requesting backup! We were caught in an ambush, only one other survivor, tangos on our tail. Transmitting coordinates."
The transmission looped. Ana activated the holo-device on her wrist, bringing up a map of the vicinity. It took a few seconds for Kamilah's location to pop up, blue marker tracking the ID chip in her dog tags as she moved down a street north of their position. Twelve red markers were spread out behind her in a tight chase. She was moving too slow – her pursuers would catch up to her soon.
"We have to help her," Ana said, getting up from her position only to be yanked back down.
"We're supposed to stay here, Ana," Khalid reminded her, voice tight. "Our objective is to take out their new second–"
"And let her die?"
"Someone else will get to her. If not… Sacrifices have to be made."
Ana glared back at her partner, a surge of hatred for him quickening the blood in her veins. His stony expression gave way to surprise when she shoved the sniper rifle into his hands. He watched her take his assault rifle, gaping at her intent.
"What do you think you're doing? There are twelve of them, for fuck's sake! And you're a sniper–"
"Fuck you, Khalid," Ana spat, strapping on the ammo belt. "Stay here and complete our objective."
"Ana–"
Khalid started to rise as well, but Ana had already burst through the exit. She took the stairs three at a time, before growing impatient and vaulting over the railings to reach the ground faster. She ran past the dusty reception area, and paused beside the main entrance to check the street–
"You're clear," Khalid told her through the radio.
"I still hate you," Ana said, sprinting across the street into an alley.
"And I'll hate you if we get demoted for this. You horny fucking bitch. Good luck." The channel clicked off.
Her lips spread into a smile despite the urgency burning in her chest. But the humour quickly died away when she checked the map and found she was just two streets away from Kamilah. The medic's marker was moving quicker now, with only ten red markers behind her.
"Shadid," Ana said through a private channel, changing her course through several abandoned shops to intercept. "Cross two streets then turn right into Al Tkamol."
"Amari?" She was panting hard.
"Just do it. And get behind cover when you're there."
"Roger."
Ana reached for the discrete oblong device on her chest harness and clicked a button, masking her heat signature. Then she pulled a grenade from the side of her belt. She slowed to a jog in an alleyway slightly ahead of the enemy squad's position, ducking behind a rancid-smelling dumpster. Keeping her eyes on the map, she heard Kamilah fly past the alley, followed by a group of heavy stomping from the insurgents, sporadic gunfire, and laughter after each round. Something ugly twisted in the pit of her stomach when she realised they were treating the chase as a game, Kamilah a buck being slowly boxed into a corner.
Squashing the desire to make them suffer, Ana moved at a crouch, peeking out of the alley before running after them at a safe distance. The instant Kamilah turned the corner, Ana yanked the grenade's pin and lobbed it in a wide arc into the enemy squad.
Some gave panicked exclamations, while the rest dove as far away as possible. The fragmentation grenade went off, leaving only five intact. Ana leveled her assault rifle and took them out easily, before they could even get their knees off the road. Panic easing into an anxious rhythm in her chest, Ana sprinted around the corner, casting her eyes all over for Kamilah. She glanced down at the map–
"Amari."
Ana swung her rifle towards the figure that popped up on her right. But she promptly lowered it at the sight of the medic, who stood behind the broken window of an abandoned café, staring at her in disbelief. There were messy smears of blood over the side of her face and light brown fatigues, long strands of hair hanging loose from the tight bun coiled at the back of her head. Her combat armour was scuffed all over. The semi-automatic pistol was trembling in a white-knuckled grip. But a weak smile slowly appeared on her lips when Ana rushed forward, meeting her at the entrance and pulling her in for a tight one-armed embrace.
Kamilah's hands gripped onto her back as she laughed breathlessly. "Thank god you're reckless."
"I know. Are you hurt?" Ana asked when the medic pulled away.
Kamilah shook her head, smile falling off her face. "But the rest…"
A chorus of shouts further down the street stole Ana's response. They turned their heads to find another enemy squad running towards them. Ana's eyes widened at the sight of two rocket launchers, being aimed in their direction. Kamilah yanked her into the café, and they threw themselves forward as two deafening blasts destroyed the pavement. She barely got her bearings when the medic pulled insistently on her fatigues' collar, practically dragging her to the cashier's counter when more rockets shook the second floor of the café. Bits of debris started raining along with constant showers of dirt. Larger pieces of concrete fell to the floor around them, one missing Ana's leg by just a hair.
"They're collapsing the fucking–" was all Ana could manage before she was shoved under the counter. The ceiling gave way in no time, huge chunks of concrete falling to the floor. One large piece crashed right in front of the counter. Luckily, Kamilah already squeezed herself on top of Ana, out of the way of potential death. Unluckily, the concrete also had a ceiling light connected to it. Broken glass flew up at them, leaving two cuts across Kamilah's right cheek. One shard lodged in Ana's bicep. She had no time to spout a curse when a heavy weight slammed onto the counter, causing the top to crumple in, and the shelf above Kamilah broke into two. Its jagged edges dug into her back.
"Are you–?"
Kamilah shushed her in the post-salvo silence, pressing down against her further. Trying to breathe normally and ignore the feel of Kamilah's body on her own, Ana wiggled a hand between them and activated her heat-masking device again. She pulled Kamilah to the side, hearing the faint scrape of wood against fabric, so the medic lay squashed on the floor beside her. Ana pointed at her and curled a fist. A frown told her the medic did not understand, so she hooked a hand behind Kamilah's knees and tugged upwards, and pushed her shoulders down. Kamilah curled up tightly as instructed and Ana covered the medic's body with her own. With any luck, the stealth field would keep them off any sort of sensors being used.
They stayed deathly still, listening to the crunch of boots on debris. Three stressful minutes later, there was a short burst from an automatic rifle that bounced off concrete, followed by victorious laughter and insults tossed at the two supposedly dead women. More crunching. Rough voices faded into the distance. Then silence.
"You alright?" Ana whispered, patting on Kamilah's back to indicate she could uncurl.
"We're trapped," Kamilah said equally quietly when she glanced at the pile of concrete right beside them. No doubt there was another pile sitting squarely above them too. Whoever made that counter should be given a medal.
"I have a distress beacon. No worries." Ana smiled down at her.
Kamilah returned the smile hesitantly. "Thank you. I thought no one would come for me just now."
"It's nothing." Ana shifted her rifle so it rested across their hips, and yanked the glass shard out of her bicep. She clenched her jaw at the sting, then lowered her head onto the crook of her elbow. "Besides, it'd get lonely without someone riding my ass after missions." She bit down a laugh at the pinch on her thigh.
"You are incorrigible, Amari."
"Thank you, Shadid."
They fell into comfortable silence after that – as comfortable as it could be when they were trapped by concrete in hostile territory. There was a tiny gap in the pile of rubble that allowed air through, but Ana must have breathed in ten lungfuls of dust in just two minutes. She kept her ears pricked for sounds nearby, shifting her attention from the lack of personal space between her and the medic. Their legs were sandwiched one atop the other, hips touching, chests occasionally brushing against each other as they took controlled breaths. There were occasional explosive bursts in the distance, and the whir of VTOLs passing by overhead that made Ana tense up each time she dared to relax.
She activated the distress beacon after the map confirmed no further insurgent activity. It took two hours of waiting, before a rescue team arrived with Khalid among them. Ana took a grateful breath of fresh air when the rubble was lifted, and climbed out with the help of the rescue personnel. Khalid yanked both Ana and Kamilah into a tight embrace when they were freed, sniffling as he uttered 'thank god, thank god' over and over again.
Khalid received a Commendation Medal for completing his objective and taking out the insurgent second-in-command. Ana received a reprimand for ditching her post, but was saved from a punishment for rescuing Kamilah, who was given three days mandatory leave for counselling sessions. Losing her entire squad – save for one – in a mere matter of seconds was a hard blow. Not to mention that she carried Sergeant Bakhoum for some distance before he volunteered to stay behind and slow down their pursuers.
Ana visited her on the first night after her duties were done. They lived in the same barracks wing – Kamilah on the second floor, and Ana on the fourth. The medic was more subdued than usual, and surprised when she opened the door to find Ana – still wearing fatigues – holding up a cup of sugarcane juice. She gave short replies to questions about her well-being, revealed that she had not eaten even though it was 8.30 at night, and thanked the sniper for the drink before closing the door. When she opened the door again thirty minutes later, she found Ana in a plain t-shirt and shorts, long hair still damp from her shower, wearing a grin on her face as she tossed a box of sandwiches in the air. Ana shoved the food into her hands even though Kamilah said she was not hungry, telling her to stick it in the fridge until she was.
On the second night, Ana managed to arrive at Kamilah's door earlier, but there was no answer to her knocks. Since the door was locked, she assumed the medic was out and nipped away for a quick wash up. Kamilah was still not back when she returned with a box of food meant for the medic, so she settled for waiting a little. Ana leant on the parapet, looking out at the courtyard, surrounded on three sides by grey barracks blocks. There was constant foot traffic in and out of the buildings. Soldiers with neatly starched uniforms heading out to their duty shifts. Worn out counterparts trudging to their quarters with slightly crumpled uniforms and slumped shoulders. Groups of friends heading to the car park, no doubt for a night of carousing after a stressful day. She spotted Ebo in one of those groups, tossing him a two-finger salute when they made eye contact.
Fifteen minutes of patient waiting finally paid off when Kamilah turned into the corridor from the stairs. Ana's face lit up at her appearance, but dimmed when red-rimmed eyes glanced at her before turning away. Kamilah was in casual jeans and a thin long-sleeved sweater, wavy shoulder-length hair falling forward when she tilted her head down and away from Ana.
"You alright?" Ana asked as Kamilah swiped her card over the door's sensor.
The medic did not reply. A small beep came from the door's digital lock, and she opened it. Ana followed behind her, stopping at the door frame.
"Who do I shoot?"
"The counsellor," Kamilah said flatly. She paused just inside the entrance, turning stiffly to face Ana who brought up the box in her hand. "You don't have to, you know."
"Yeah, think I'm gonna get discharged for shooting a counsellor."
A twitch in the corner of her mouth. "I meant–"
"I know what you mean." Ana kept her smile on, watching Kamilah's gaze land on everything but her. The medic's arm was wrapped around her middle defensively, hand gripping onto the side of her sweater. Discomfort was written all over her posture, so Ana decided to back off. One thing first, though.
"Here." Ana bobbed the box between them. "Just wanted to make sure you're taking care of yourself. Wow. That sounded much less ironic in my head."
Kamilah's mouth finally curved into a smile. It was small and tight-lipped, but a smile nonetheless. She took the box hesitantly, shifting on her feet. "Ana, I–"
Her words disappeared as she stared back up at Ana, leaving the sniper's mind screaming in suspense. Ana waited for the axe to fall, for Kamilah to brush her off, to pop the bubble of hope and set her free. She braced herself when Kamilah's lips parted again, pausing for a moment before she–
"Thank you."
Ana almost, almost bounced on her feet. She grimaced at the knowledge, attracting a curious tilt of the head.
"Something wrong?"
"No, everything is fine. Almost," she added when she remembered Kamilah's situation. She took a step back, preparing to run before she actually did something embarrassing. But she stopped herself.
"Actually, yes. I–" Ana shifted her hands behind her back in a casual imitation of parade rest. "I just wanted to apologise. For the way I acted. Back in Kharga."
"A lot happened in Kharga."
"In the hosp–" Her words died off at the sight of Kamilah's wry smile.
"I know. And you apologised already."
"Yeah. But I should have been better. About…"
"It's alright. Besides, you're already more polite than the rest."
Her words took a moment to sink in. "'The rest'?"
"What, you thought you were the only one?"
Heat started to grow around her collar. "No! I mean, it's very–" She gestured vaguely at Kamilah, who wore an expression of amusement, and possibly a hint of guilt for being amused.
"–understandable?" she finished. The thought of others approaching the medic sparked something hot in her gut, like the burst of a starting pistol.
"Kamilah, I–" Alarms blared in her mind when she realised she was about to take a leap, and Ana threw herself back so hard she almost felt a physical recoil. Her sudden intense stare faded as she floundered for an escape.
"I'm heading back to my quarters," she rattled the words off her tongue, jerking a thumb upwards. "If you need anything, I'll be there." Ana strode swiftly to the staircase at the end of the corridor, then stopped halfway. She turned to see Kamilah standing at the door, still looking entertained.
"4th floor. Unit 6."
She did not wait for Kamilah's nod and climbed up the stairs, as composed as possible until she was out of hearing range. Then Ana practically fled to her room, closing the door behind her, and promptly folded into herself out of mortification. She groaned loudly into her hands, hating how goddamned stupid she must have looked just now.
She found Kamilah in the parking lot the next afternoon, as she was headed to her own car.
"I've always wondered whose bike this is," Ana said, watching Kamilah turn from the motorcycle to face her. "Never took you for a biker chick." She cast an appreciative eye over the bike – painted midnight blue with golden-yellow trim along its sides.
Kamilah shrugged. "It's practical."
"Where are you headed? Not the counsellor's, I presume." Ana looked the medic over. She wore her dress uniform, cutting a sharp figure in the well-fitted dark blue jacket and trousers – attire that is discouraged by the counsellors. Something about dropping your guard easier when out of uniform.
"No. Funeral."
"Oh." She paused as Kamilah fit a small bag into the top box, fishing out a black scarf and helmet before closing it. "One of your squad's?"
"Ramy."
"You must've gotten along well then?" Ana asked. She knew Ramy – a recent transfer to Kamilah's squad about three months ago. She had never really spoken to him before, despite seeing him around base and in the field.
"No. But I'm in the honour guard with Deyab."
Kamilah and Captain Deyab were the only two left of their squad. The captain had been held back at base camp to treat critical cases during the army's assault on the city, and was thus spared from having to witness the death of his comrades. Not that it was a comfort at all – the few times Ana caught sight of him, Deyab's deliberately casual demeanour was nowhere to be found. Just an intense look in the eye, a perpetually clenched jaw, and a jagged edge in each step he took.
The medic sighed, swinging a leg over the seat. "He only turned 21 less than a month ago. And now he's being buried with his parents."
"I'm sorry."
"Why? You're not the one who shot him," Kamilah said drily, mouth quirking at Ana's lack of a response. "You should probably be on your way. Lunch?"
"Yeah." Ana stood beside Kamilah as she wrapped the scarf around her head. The medic held up her helmet, turning it over between nimble fingers.
"By the way," she said, looking back at Ana. "I'll be back late tonight. So don't bother with a delivery."
"Damn. And I got the candles already."
Kamilah breathed a short laugh, and donned the helmet. "You know, Amari. You're not as irritating as I first thought."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"If you wish."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Whatever you want it to mean."
Ana caught a glimpse of her smile before the visor was pushed down. Kamilah started the engine, kicking up the side stand as exhaust filled Ana's nose. The bike's idle purr coupled with the scent of motor oil lent a compelling, magnetic aura to its uniformed rider, who was adjusting the straps of her helmet.
"Take me out for a spin some time?" Ana could not resist asking.
The helmet turned back towards her. After a few seconds of silence, Kamilah nodded and rapped on her forehead with her knuckles. Ana flinched a little, though a wide grin spread across her face. Hand reaching up to rub at her forehead, Ana watched Kamilah ride smoothly towards the exit, then turn onto the main road. She kept her eyes on the bike as it picked up speed, and sped out of sight.
Damn. Why did Ana buy a car instead of a bike, again?
She breathed a sigh of relief when Deyab mentioned he and Kamilah had not been transferred to another company. Five new soldiers were assigned to their squad to replace those they had lost, and they seemed to be competent enough. At least, according to Kamilah, who had been running combat simulations with her new squad along with Deyab.
"They're much less careless than you and your friends," she said. "I only had to patch two up in four simulations."
"That's why you need us. So you won't get rusty at being a medic."
Kamilah snorted, opting to drink more of her juice than answer. The crowd in front of them roared in unison – accompanied by a few groans – when another goal was scored. They were gathered in the common room with their squads to watch two football matches in a row. Well, most of them were watching and making bets. Some, like Ana and Kamilah, sat at the back of the room and spectated the spectators. Personally, Ana found the fans' reactions more entertaining than the matches. Like Khalid and Ebo shouting in approval and clamping onto each other's shoulders every time their team scored a goal. Or banter that sometimes escalated into furious debates about whose team was better. Such passion. She liked it.
"Did you hear about Saad?" Kamilah asked when the commotion died down.
"General or punk?"
"Punk. He got discharged."
"For? Being a dickwad?"
"Kind of. He got caught with his pants down." The medic gave a wry smile. "With the Israeli ambassador's daughter."
"Hard to believe anyone would fuck him."
"I know. But there's no accounting for taste."
Ana chuckled. She shook off her slippers, bringing her feet up on the chair. "Pity though. I wanted to see how he was going to fuck us over."
"Only you, Ana. Only you would wish for trouble."
"And why not?" She laid an elbow on the armrest, leaning over to the medic. "A little trouble makes life exciting, doesn't it?"
"All your 'excitement' lands you in a hospital bed, Amari."
"That's the silver lining, Shadid." Ana's voice dropped to a lower timbre, breath catching in her throat when Kamilah's eyes flickered downwards.
Naturally, the football spectators chose that moment to erupt in cheers. Ana bit down a curse as Kamilah leaned back into her own seat, turning towards the front to find cash being distributed among the bettors. Their volume lowered a little when all the money had been stowed away, only to rise again when someone made a snarky remark about the winning team. Ana drained her can of beer, crumpling it in her hand as Ebo answered with a passionate defense of his team. The words grew more unfriendly, until a divide could be seen in the group.
Another thing Ana liked about the spectators.
"Hey. Hey!" she yelled, cutting through the noise like a knife through warm butter. Loud voices quietened as they turned to look at her.
When drunk as they were now, they were so receptive towards suggestions.
"Why don't you have a dance-off to prove who's better?"
"That's stupid," said one who was not that drunk just yet.
"What, you chicken?" Ebo challenged, driving the last nail into the coffin.
Ana cackled to herself, tossing the can across the room where it landed neatly in the trash bin.
"Ana…" Kamilah said uncertainly as the group split into two. She looked up at the sniper pulling on her sleeve.
"Let's go."
"But–" She glanced at the rowdy fans, who were throwing random songs into a playlist.
"Trust me, you don't want to be here for the clean-up." Ana tugged harder on Kamilah's sleeve, leading her out through the door. She took a deep breath of warm air and cast one last look at the soon-to-be dancers, then shut the door behind them.
"If anything happens…" Kamilah said.
"Relax. After that last time, they know how to pick up after themselves."
"What last time?"
"Oh. You weren't here yet." Ana grinned as they strolled back to their barracks wing. "Before you came, we used to have more regular parties in the common room. Then one time, some people got into a fight over…who knows what. I can't remember. Anyway, I told them to settle it by sumo wrestling."
"What?" Kamilah laughed. "Do they even know how to sumo wrestle?"
"No, but they knew how to wrestle. So they just stripped down to their underwear and started slamming into one another. And the furniture. The common room was completely wrecked by the time the staff officer came in. So we were all forced to run 10 kilometres around base carrying bags filled with rocks."
Ana shook her head at the memory. By the time she collapsed at the end of the run, she was nothing but a waterfall of perspiration gushing down a numb and aching body. She thought she saw a white light while lying stomach-down on the floor, trying to breathe against the rocks still sitting heavily on her back.
"But you know what the best part is?" Her grin grew wider when Kamilah shook her head. "No one can remember who told them to wrestle."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, they were that drunk. For now, the theory is that the vengeful ghost of an old soldier told them to do it." Ana cackled again, slapping the side of her thigh. "You've no idea how hard it was not to burst out laughing when they were talking about it."
"You're horrible."
"But it's fun being horrible. You need to loosen up sometimes, Kamilah." Then Ana quickly stepped in front of the medic before they climbed up the stairs, holding up a warning finger. "But if you tell anyone I did it…"
Kamilah raised a brow, crossing her arms. "And what will you do if I tell them?"
"I'll…" Ana drummed her fingers on the handrail. "I'll scratch your bike."
"I can bring it to the workshop."
"Fine. Then I'll burn your bike."
A smirk appeared on Kamilah's face, and she stepped forward. Ana held her breath, foot sliding back to hit the first raised step, as the medic came dangerously close.
"Do that," Kamilah whispered, the threat in her voice sending a tingle down Ana's spine. "And the next time you need an operation, we'll suddenly run out of anesthesia."
The sinister smile was the last thing Ana saw before Kamilah stepped past her and climbed the stairs. When she finally wrenched her eyes up, the woman was already out of sight, leaving her staring dumbly into an empty stairwell.