Three Courageous Words

She hoped it happened sooner rather than later, because all those old feelings she’d had back in medical school seemed to be bubbling up inside. Losing him the first time had been bad enough. She feared the more time she spent with Buck, the more dangerous he became.

To her heart.

Chapter Three

Buck and Angela returned to the van, where several of the SEALs stood outside the vehicle.

Having taken over the conversation with Abu Hanafi, Buck allowed Angela to take the lead this time.

“We can stay only until after dark,” Angela jumped in without preamble. After informing them of where Uluru had indicated they could park the van out of sight of the road, Angela announced, “I’ll walk.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Buck said.

The only hint she wasn’t happy with his announcement was the tightening of her lips. “Suit yourself.” And she started toward the hillside.

Diesel cranked the van’s engine, the SEALs piled in and the van passed Angela and Buck on the way to the hiding place.

Angela waited until the people in the van were well out of hearing distance before she said, “Did you ever consider I might not want you to walk with me?”

“Yes.” He lifted a shoulder. “And I ignored it. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you anywhere alone.”

“You left me in Chicago,” she shot back.

The anger and hurt in Angela’s voice twisted a knife in Buck’s gut. “We’re in South Sudan, a volatile nation filled with murderous people” was all he could push past the tightness in his throat.

“Like Chicago?” Again, she was quick with her comebacks. Sadly, she was right.

“I had reasons for leaving when I did,” he said.

Angela spun around in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. “I wouldn’t know, now would I?” She poked a finger at his chest. “Because you didn’t bother to tell me what they were, or even that you were leaving. I had to find out from your roommate, after you were long gone.” She smacked her palm flat against his chest. “You’d think any kind of man would have the decency to tell his girlfriend he was skipping town, quitting college and joining the navy. But then, you weren’t even decent—”

Buck grabbed the woman’s arms and yanked her against him, crushing her lips with a bruising kiss. He’d never wanted to leave her, would rather have slit his own throat than hurt her. And now, seeing her in front of him, her eyes alight with fury, her cheeks blooming with righteous indignation, he couldn’t resist.

This was the woman he’d never been able to forget. The kiss started out raw and angry but quickly turned hungry and desperate. He remembered her lips, the way they felt beneath his mouth, the curve of her body against his and the way she leaned into him when she gave her whole self to the kiss.

At first she was stiff in his arms, her palms on his chest. But she didn’t push him away. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she loosened up until she was leaning into him, giving back every bit as much as he gave.

When at last he was forced to surface for air, he drew in a deep breath and rested his forehead against hers.

“Don’t think this changes anything,” she said, her fingers curling into his shirt. “I’m still angry with you. And I’m still staying in Sudan.” Then she did push out of his arms, turned and ran after the van.

Buck followed at a slower pace, wondering what the hell had just happened. He’d never intended to pick up where they’d left off all those years ago. Angela had her life, and he had his. Nothing between them would ever work.

Granted, Chicago was not an issue anymore. From what he understood, his old gang had been disbanded with the arrest and incarceration of their leader. The man had finally been caught and convicted of murder.

Once the team had the van hidden behind old buildings and trees near the base of the hillside, they climbed out and prepared to lie low until after sunset.

Harm and Diesel went south, and Pitbull hiked to the north, each going around the hill. Big Jake and T-Mac climbed to the top, all of them searching for potential threats and the coordinates to give the helicopter crew for their extraction.

They left Buck to guard the two women.

“Tough job, but someone has to do it,” Diesel said as he left with Harm.

Word must have gotten out that the doctor was in the village. Before long, women brought children to the base of the hillside, seeking assistance for minor injuries, skin infections, lacerations and more.

Working out of the side door of the van, Angela, Brenda and Buck treated the patients.

All the while, Buck kept a close watch on the surrounding area and scrutinized every patient, searching for hidden weapons. But they were all what they appeared to be...people sincerely in need of help.

As the sun dropped to the horizon, the line of people dwindled to two, then one.

The last one, a bone-thin woman dressed in a faded gold dress and scarf, waited to speak until the others had all gone. “Dr. Angela, you must come with me.” She took Angela’s hand and tried to drag her away.

Buck stepped between them and loosened the woman’s grip on Angela’s hand. “The doctor isn’t going anywhere. What do you want?”

“She must come,” the woman insisted.

Angela placed a hand on Buck’s arm and stepped around him. “What’s your name?”

“I am Fatima.” She turned, waving her hand to the side. “Please, you must come.”

“Can’t we talk about your problem here?” Angela asked.

“Not me,” Fatima said. “My son needs you.”

Angela frowned. “What’s wrong with your son?”

Fatima glanced around furtively. “He is injured.”

“How was he injured?” Angela asked.

The woman looked from Angela to Buck and over her shoulder, as if afraid of something or someone. “Please, my son needs your help.”

The sun had set, and the grayness of dusk enveloped them.

Big Jake, T-Mac, Harm, Diesel and Pitbull all appeared out of the shadows.

“What’s going on?” Diesel asked.

Buck tilted his head toward Fatima. “This woman wants the doctor to go to her son.”

“I don’t recommend it.” Big Jake glanced down at his watch. “Our extraction is scheduled for T-minus five minutes. We’d better move to the other side of the hill. And make it fast.”

The men headed in that direction. Buck started to follow, but Angela wasn’t at his side.

She stood with her feet planted firmly on the ground. “I can’t leave this woman without help.”

“You can’t stay,” Buck said. “Koku could be back at any moment.”

“Please...” The woman took Angela’s hand again, her eyes pleading. “My son is injured. He needs your help. He has been beaten by Koku’s men.”

Even Buck, a hardened SEAL, couldn’t ignore the woman’s desperation. “How far is it to your son?”

“On the other side of the village. It will not take long. He has suffered so much. Please help him.”

The thumping sound of rotors beating the air made Buck’s heart leap. Their transport neared. “We can’t do this,” he said to Angela.

She stared up into his eyes. “I can’t not do this.”

Buck turned to the woman. “Can you bring your son here?”

“No. My son traveled a long way. He escaped from Koku’s camp. His action is punishable by death. He cannot risk being seen and recaptured.”

“Wait.” Buck’s heart rate ratcheted up. “Your son escaped from Koku’s camp?”

She nodded. “It is very bad there. He does not wish to return.”

Excitement rose like a tidal wave in Buck. “But he knows where Koku lives?”

The woman frowned. “Yes, but he does not wish to return,” she repeated. “He was one of many young boys taken to fill Koku’s army.”

Angela squeezed the woman’s hand. “I will help.”

Big Jake trotted back to where Buck and Angela stood. “Hey, are you two coming? We have to get around this hill to our extraction point. It’s time to move out.”

Buck turned to Big Jake. “This woman’s son escaped Koku’s camp. He knows where we can find Koku.”

Big Jake frowned, and he stared at the woman in the deepening dusk. “Your son knows where Koku lives?”

The woman nodded.

Big Jake glanced at his watch. “We’ll have to come back to follow up. Right now, we’re scheduled for extraction.”

“And you need to go and take my nurse back to safety,” Angela said. “But I’m staying to help this woman’s son.”

Big Jake’s frown deepened. “I can’t force you to come with us. But you realize the risk you’re taking?”

She nodded. “I do.”

“And I’m staying with her,” Buck said.

“You can’t,” Big Jake said. “You’re part of the team. We leave no man behind.”

“Give me the radio. I’ll be a one-man recon element scouting out Koku’s location.” Buck talked fast, the idea coming to him as he spoke. “When you get the nurse to a safe location, you can come back. Hopefully by then, I’ll have Koku’s exact coordinates. We can complete our mission.”

For a long moment, Big Jake stared at Buck. Finally, he said, “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it, but it makes sense for me to go with this woman and check out her son’s story. If it pans out, we’ll get a lot farther a lot faster than we have in the past week.” Buck nodded toward the sound of the approaching helicopter. “You need to hurry. They won’t wait long.”

Big Jake nodded to T-Mac. “Give him your ground-to-air radio and go.”

T-Mac unclipped the radio from his belt and handed it over to Buck. “Don’t do anything to get yourself killed.” T-Mac spun and ran toward the sound of the helicopter.

Big Jake stuck out his hand. “What T-Mac said.”

Buck clasped the man’s hand and was pulled into a bear hug.

Then Big Jake was gone, running after T-Mac.

Buck watched as the last two men of his team disappeared around the side of the hill. Moments later, the thumping sound of the rotor blades intensified and then faded into the distance.

For all intents and purposes, Buck was stranded in South Sudan, without his team to provide backup. Whatever happened from here on, he’d be on his own until he called for extraction. His lifeline was the radio in his hand.

“Please,” the woman said. “My son needs you.”

Angela slipped her backpack of supplies over one shoulder and said in a calm, quiet voice, “Show me the way.”

Buck grabbed his gear bag from the back of the van. Keeping a close watch on his surroundings, he followed.

* * *

ANGELA COULDN’T BELIEVE Buck had actually remained behind with her. She hadn’t expected him to. Hell, she hadn’t really thought through her own plan. All she knew was that she couldn’t let some poor injured boy lie in pain because she was in a hurry to get out of the country.

Fatima skirted the village, keeping to the deepest shadows that a night sky full of stars couldn’t penetrate. Once they were past the jumble of huts and tin shacks, she led them another half mile to what appeared to be a huge junk pile of tin and scraps of worm-eaten lumber.

When she pushed aside a sheet of corrugated roofing metal, she waved for Angela to enter.

The small cave-like structure’s interior was pitch-black. Angela hesitated at the entrance, trying to remember whether or not she’d brought a flashlight in the backpack she’d hastily loaded.

A soft click sounded and a beam of light cut through the darkness.

She smiled. Trust Buck to have a flashlight handy. He’d always been good about being prepared. He must have been a Boy Scout in a past life.

He stepped around her and shined the light into the structure.

A young boy, around ten years old, lay on a pile of rags, his face caked with dried blood, one of his arms bent at an odd angle.

The shack was small and rickety. Angela didn’t know how she’d manage to work on the boy in the cramped space. When she bent to enter, a hand shot out to stop her.

“We’ll have to move him out into the open,” Buck said. “This hut doesn’t look like it’ll stand up to a strong wind.”

“I’m smaller. Let me move him,” Angela said.

“No way.” Buck handed her the flashlight. “Just give me some light to work in.”

Angela held the beam steady as Buck hunched over and ducked into the shack.

The boy moaned but didn’t fight when Buck gently laid his injured arm over his chest. Then he lifted him into his arms and maneuvered the child and his own big body through the narrow entrance and out into the balmy night air.

Fatima spread her scarf on the ground. “Place him here.”

Buck eased the boy to the ground, careful not to jolt his arm or cause him more pain.

His mother hovered close by, looking over her shoulder, fear evident in the whites of her eyes. “You will fix this?” She pointed to the boy’s bent arm.

“I’ll have to reset the bone. It’s going to hurt. What is your name?” Angela asked the boy.

When the boy didn’t answer right away, Fatima twisted her hands together. “He is Mustafa.”

Using the flashlight, Angela shined the beam into the boy’s eyes, testing his pupils’ response. No indications of concussion, despite the blood on his head and face. She checked his vital signs. His pulse was strong, his blood pressure right for his size and age. “Mustafa,” she said, her tone low, calm and gentle. “What I’m about to do will hurt, but then your arm will feel better. Do you understand?”

The boy nodded, probably in too much pain to do more.

Over the light’s beam, Angela caught Buck’s attention. “You’ll have to hold his upper arm while I apply traction.”

He nodded, sat behind the boy and leaned over to grip the child’s skinny arm. “Ready.”

Angela slowly straightened the arm.

The boy bared his teeth in silence, his body tensing.

Once she had it straight, Angela pulled gently but firmly until the bone jutting at an odd angle beneath the skin moved back in line with the other end.

Mustafa’s back arched and his jaw clenched to keep him from crying out.

Angela hated to cause another human so much pain, but she knew it was necessary and that he’d feel better once they were done.

The boy squirmed and squeezed his eyes closed, perspiration shining on his forehead. Then he went limp.

“I believe he passed out,” Buck whispered.

“Good, then maybe he won’t be in as much pain.” She continued to apply strong downward pressure, easing the bone back into place. Once she had the bone where she wanted it, she held the arm steady. “I need something for a splint.”

“Do you have him?” Buck asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Go.”

Buck released the boy’s shoulder and took the flashlight. A few moments later, he came back with two flat, straight sticks about the length of the boy’s forearm. He laid them on the ground beside Angela and dug in her backpack for roller gauze and scissors.

While Angela held the arm and spoke to the boy in a soft monotone voice, Buck placed the two flat sticks on either side of the boy’s arm and wrapped the roller gauze around and around until he was certain it would be sufficient to keep the arm immobile. When he finished, he cut the gauze and secured the end.

“Well done,” Angela said. “You look like you’ve done this before.”

He shrugged. “Like I said, I’m the team medic. We’ve had a few bumps, bruises and broken bones.”

Angela nodded. She would bet he’d seen a lot more than that, including gunshot and shrapnel wounds.

The boy woke before they finished and watched the proceedings with interest, no longer tense with pain.

Angela gave him a mild painkiller and one of the bottles of water she’d stashed in her bag. “He should sleep now.”

Buck touched her arm and motioned for her to move away from the boy and his mother. “We need to question him about Koku’s location before he goes to sleep.”

He leaned so close to her, she could feel the warmth of his body. A shiver of awareness slipped across her skin. She almost didn’t register what he said. “He’s been through a lot.”

“We can’t wait. We don’t know if Koku will come back through tonight or tomorrow looking for the van and the people who were in it.”

Still, Angela hated to disturb the boy. He’d been in so much pain.

“I know you want your patient to recover, but we also put the people of this village at risk just by being here,” Buck reasoned. “We need to leave as soon as possible. Preferably at night, to avoid being seen in that van.”

Angela knew he was right. The longer she held off questioning the child, the more likely he’d fall asleep before they could. “Fine. Question him. But how is a child going to be able to give you directions?”

“I don’t know, but I have to try.” He returned to the boy and squatted on the ground beside him. “Are you thirsty?”

Mustafa nodded.

In the glow of the flashlight, Buck held the bottle of water to the boy’s mouth. When he’d had enough, Buck capped it and set it beside the child. “Mustafa, your mother says you were in Koku’s camp?”

The boy’s eyes widened and his gaze darted around.

“It’s okay.” Buck rested a hand on the boy’s arm. “We won’t take you back there. But we want to know where to find Koku. Can you tell us how to get there?”

The boy’s eyes closed for a moment.

Angela thought he’d gone to sleep. Then he opened them and nodded. “I will show you.” He sat up with help from Buck, leaned over the side of the scarf he lay on and drew his finger in the dirt.

“It is a long way. Ten days’ walking.” He dragged his finger in a fairly straight line for a while, then he poked a dot next to the line. “There are one...two—” he poked another dot, then another “—three...four...five villages along the way. The first one is very small, even smaller than my village. The second one is small, too. The third is a town with a church at the center. The missionaries have gone, and the building has been damaged, but it still stands, and it gave me shelter for one night.”

Again, the boy’s eyes closed and he grew silent. Then he opened his eyes as if doing so took great effort. “The next two villages are very much the same as the first—small. The fourth one has an old abandoned truck beside the road—black, like fire burned it. I slept beneath it one day to hide from sight of Koku’s soldiers.”

Angela’s heart squeezed in her chest at the thought of the little boy hiding beneath the burned-out hull of a truck, fearing for his life. He shouldn’t have to be afraid. He should be in school learning to read and write. He should be playing with his friends, able to be a kid for a while longer. Her eyes burned with the hint of tears.

“The fifth town is much larger, like Bentiu, with buildings, houses, stores. There are many of Koku’s men in those streets. It was not safe. I did not enter. I hid in the bushes outside the town. When the sky became dark, I circled the town and continued to follow the road all the way back to my home.”

“After the big town, is that where we will find Koku’s camp?”

The boy shook his head. “There is a place where the one road becomes two.” Mustafa drew a fork in the road that formed a Y. “To get to Koku’s camp, you must take this road.” He pointed at the fork to the left. “I watched when we were taken. I knew that if I escaped, I would have to know the way to return to my home.” The boy lifted his chin. “Koku’s camp is another day’s walking from the fork in the road. Half of a day on the road, another half heading west into the setting sun on a smaller, rougher road, leading into the hills.”

His mother laid a hand on his shoulder. “My son is all I have. If we have to, we will leave our home and find another place to live.”

“You might need to,” Buck advised. “If Koku learns we were here, he might search the entire village and surrounding area.”

After treating so many patients and then having a helicopter land on the back side of the hill where the village was situated, it would be hard to keep the secret that an American doctor and six military men had been there.

For the villagers’ sake, Angela hoped Koku didn’t find out. But she wasn’t banking on it. Now that she had Mustafa on the road to recovery, she realized it was time to move on. And like Buck had said, moving at night made the most sense.

Buck. Calling him Buck made it seem like he was a different person from the one she’d known back in medical school. Perhaps it would help to keep her from falling for him all over again.

Angela gave Mustafa and his mother instructions on how to take care of the broken arm until it was fully healed in six to eight weeks.

Then Buck helped Mustafa into the ramshackle hut, tried to shore up the posts holding the roof up and stepped out.

Angela turned to the boy’s mother. “Fatima, will you be all right taking care of Mustafa?”

The woman nodded. “Now that Mustafa is home, we will make sure we he is not captured again.”

Angela glanced at the hut where the boy lay nestled in the darkness. She understood what would happen to the boy should he be recaptured. Most likely, he’d be shot or tortured to death as a message to others who might attempt escape.

Buck cupped her elbow, his touch sending a spark through her system. “We need to go before the light of dawn,” he said.

Having done all she could for the child, Angela nodded and followed Buck back toward the village.

When they reached the van, a ghostly figure in white robes hovered by the driver’s side. As they neared, the starlight revealed their visitor as Abu Hanafi.

His face was grave. “You said you would be gone by now.”

Angela stepped forward. “We are the last two to leave. We will be gone soon.”

When Buck tried to get around the elder to the driver’s door, the man stood in his way. “This van will be recognized if you try to take it now,” Abu Hanafi said.

“It’s the only transportation we have,” Buck said.

“You have helped my people. I would help you with an alternative to the van.”

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