A/N May 4, 2019: If you currently are reading this story, note that all chapters have been updated. See author's note for chapter 1.

Chapter 2: An unwelcome reacquaintance

Later that afternoon the Brigadier summoned them before he was leaving for UK. Georgie had never liked him much and even less after his disrespectful comment during Bones' ceremony. There was something uncanny about him in addition to the superior arrogance that some of the top brass displayed. It was clear that he considered himself well above them and much preferred to hang out with his likes in ranks to wasting precious time on regular squaddies, but there was also something in the look of his eyes that she did not like. Maybe the way they actually never met hers but seemed to wander somewhere above and beyond her shoulder whenever he addressed them. Sometimes she wondered how he had raised to the rank of Brigadier. It could not be for his strategical skills, excellent leadership or bravery, because she had never seen proof of any of that, so she assumed it must be down to the right connections in high places and some serious brown nosing. She felt certain Bones must secretly have despised him and thought it ironic that the Brigadier would be the one accompanying him on his last journey home. Even if she had not warmed to Bones, she preferred him over the Brigadier any day. He had been an asshole, but at least one who did not mind get dirt on his hands if it was required to save lives.

"In my last conversation with Captain McClyde, he told me how proud he was to serve alongside you guys and how he wanted you to continue to help the Rohingya refugees."

She wondered if Bones had really said that, or if the Brigadier just wanted to deliver an encouraging speech. Either way it did not work, because delivered with his monotone, dull voice anything he said was uninspiring. She tried to keep attention up as he continued talking.

"Your new commanding officer will help you in this. I was fortunate enough to persuade him not to take medical discharge".

Georgie felt her body tense and her hairs stand on end from a bad premonition. Was it possible? She looked up and her fears were confirmed as the tall, dark man walking through the door was indeed a familiar face. One she had wished not to see again.

"Meanwhile I escort the body back to the UK I will leave you in the capable hands of Captain James", the Brigadier continued, and she wanted to sink through the floor.

The rest of 2 section just barely refrained from high-fiving knowing the Brigadier for sure would have frowned upon such behaviour, happy and relieved over the return of their old commander, but Georgie almost felt nauseous, trapped, awkward and angry. Why had he not kept their agreement and stayed away from her? She had asked it of him straight out when she went to see him at rehab and she had thought he had agreed. Yet, here he was.

Work had been Georgie's lifeline, her way to keep it together, to stay sane, to have a purpose after Elvis died. She wanted and needed to keep work professional, not complicated by her own or anyone else's feelings but now he was here, and she was under his command. All she wanted to do in this moment was to escape but she would not know where to run.

-OG-

Over the next days she did her best to avoid being alone with Captain James. He had attempted to initiate a one to one conversation, but she had averted being alone with him, avoided to at all be in his presence to the extent she could and avoided to even meet the dark eyes which she felt were searching for hers. It was difficult though, he was her CO and they inevitably needed to interact, and she gritted her teeth in frustration that he had put them in this situation. She isolated herself somewhat from the rest of the section too, because she needed space and time to think the situation through and decide what to do.

She became increasingly convinced by the ever present and growing knot in her stomach, that the right thing would be to request a transfer. She hated the thought of leaving 2 section. She had come to see them as brothers - or sister in the case of Maisie. Funny to think how that girl had annoyed the crap out of her when Georgie first had been her mentor during the Nepal tour - and now she loved her. But Georgie felt she did not have any choice, serving under Captain James after his confessions about having feelings for her would not lead to anything good. She had not given hm the opportunity to repeat them here, but just having his eyes following her around when she tried to avoid him gave her the creeps. She was not able to function as the professional soldier and medic she wanted to be under those circumstances.

During one of their frequent tours to pick up refugees crossing the Brahmaputra river, she informed Captain James of her intentions. Maybe it was a bit coward of her, but she thought she found the perfect moment there in the crowd, surrounded by all these people. Their presence made it impossible to cause a scene and yet very few of them understood English, so she could speak freely.

"I have requested a transfer from 2 section, Sir."

"Why?"

Her heart was pounding, and she hated the hurt look she saw on his face when she allowed herself a quick glance at him, but this was the way it had to go.

"You should have kept your end of the bargain."

"What bargain was that Lane?"

"That you should stay away from me after blurring the lines. You were too personal and all I want is to stay professional. I can't work this way, I just can't. I take it you won't object to my transfer request because if you do I will have to tell people why I'm requesting it. I will leave either you like it or not."

He looked like he was about to say something more, but she turned in her track and strode off before he had the chance to utter another word. She was sure it was nothing she wanted to hear anyway, and she frankly did not care she was disrespectful to her CO, because he deserved it.

- OG -

The transfer was approved but would not be immediate. There was a second medic in 2 section, Ruby, but he had so little field experience that Georgie could not leave him hanging without her experienced support and would have to wait for another replacement medic to join the section in a few weeks. In the meantime, she buried herself in work at the med centre. Both because she wanted to avoid Captain James and because she wanted to be of as much use as possible whilst being here. The need of medical assistance was huge, and she spent nearly all her awake hours at the clinic. Many of the refugees were in such a bad shape and there were many cases of dysentery. She found she had to force herself to shut of her feelings not to drown from empathy.

As if infections and other illnesses were not bad enough, many of the refugees were seriously addicted to a drug called yabba. It seemed it was easy to access somehow in the refugee camp, and Georgie thought of how cynical and unfair it was to exploit these already weak and poor people. Like kicking on those already lying down.

Through her work with the refugees, she came to know one woman who touched her heart more than others, despite that she had tried to harden herself and stay detached. She was called Maya and was a sex worker and yabba addict. She was probably Georgie's age and one could see that she once had been beautiful with her long black hair and big brown eyes. Now her torn face appeared to be at least 15 years older than the medic and her eyes, filled with pain, seemed to belong to someone who had lived a hard life for an eternity. Unlike most of the refugees she could speak some limited English because once, a very long time ago she had gone to school. Georgie met her when was treating an infected wound that Maya had from the crossing the river. In the muddy water, rocks and tree branches and junk people had thrown away were hidden and many got hurt during the passage. From their previous conversations Georgie knew that she had passed the border all on her own, without anyone caring for her or protecting her. Sometimes Georgie felt alone, but she had her section and in fact the whole Army behind her and her family waiting at home. Maya's loneliness and exposure were in a different league entirely, because if someone tried to exploit her nobody would stand up for her, if she died no one would miss her.

"Why are you using yabba, Maya?" Georgie asked whilst carefully cleaning Maya's wound. It broke her heart so see how Maya seemed to enjoy when she softly touched her leg in the process, as if it were long since someone had touched her in a comforting way.

"It helps me."

"Helps you?"

"Yes. Help me forget. Forget what people do to my family. Help me not remember sex."

Two pair of brown eyes met. Georgie suddenly felt hers glaze but Maya's were dried, no tears left as they all had been shed long ago.

"I had family. Man, children, but they dead. I need food, money. Men pay me. Not nice, need to forget. Only want to forget."

Georgie felt naïve, embarrassed and nauseous all at once. Who was she to judge? If she had lost her family, if she had been forced to have sex with unknown and uncaring men to make a living, would she not have wanted to drug herself too to forget and ease the pain? Christ, she could not even stand to be close to Captain James and all he had done was saying inappropriate things to her. It was bad enough, but very far from being forced into something physical against one's will, like Maya had.

"Who sells you the drugs? How do you get drugs?"

Maya cautiously looked around them and put a finger to her lips, looking wary.

"Hush! Inspector."

"Inspector Chowdhrey?"

Chowdhrey was the very well-liked police officer they were collaborating closely with in the camp and his lovely wife worked in the med centre, doing an admirable effort to keep the clinic floating.

Maya just shook her head with lips tightly pursed. A group of people was approaching them, and it was clear that she would not say more. Georgie finished dressing the wound and moved on to the next patient, but she was distracted, and her mind was full of questions. Had Maya not wanted to speak because she did not want Inspector Chowdhrey to know who the drug dealers were? Or, did she mean that he was part of the drug trade? There was plenty of corruption here, so it was not impossible even if Chowdhrey had come across as a very decent man who would have been Georgie' last guess for being a corrupted cop.

She suddenly remembered the backpack she had seen someone handing Chowdhrey at the river crossing a few days ago. She had asked him what it was, and he had claimed it contained information about the refugees. What if it was something else? Maybe it had been drugs in that bag, maybe he got parcels with yabba every time he was at the river crossing. If so, he would have several opportunities weekly to bring drugs here. As his wife was running the clinic he would also have reason to be in contact with the refugees regularly there without raising suspicions, as well as in the camp where his job was to oversee things daily. Mrs. Chowdhrey might even be in on it too, things were not always as they seemed.

Georgie shook her head to herself. 'Or, maybe I'm just going mental!' She decided not to mention it to anyone, but anyway keep her eyes open and talk more to Maya to try to find out more. If there was a way to stop the drug trade, a small favour would be done to refugees even if not all of them would agree to that, addicted to the yabba as they were.

- OG -

Next day when Georgie returned to the clinic, she went looking for Maya and was immediately alarmed when she found someone else in that bed.

"Where is Maya?" she asked Salma, one of the local women working there.

"Who?"

"The woman who was in this bed yesterday"

Salma shrugged her shoulders.

"Gone, so we gave the bed to someone else this morning."

"But Maya! What happened to Maya?"

Maya's wound had been healing, looking fine so Georgie knew for sure that whatever had happened could not be related to an infection.

"Sorry Miss, it was yabba. She took an overdose".

"So, you had to move her?"

"Yes, we moved her because she died tonight. Maya is dead." Salma shrugged her shoulders, like it was a pity but something one had to count on happening.

It was true, refugees died here every day, but to Georgie this life was different.