On Fire

The nurse gulped. “This way...” she said and hurried toward the nurse’s station opposite the gallery of curtained cubicles. She explained to the supervisor who had gray hair and blue eyes what Mike wanted. The older nurse took one look at him and went to the computer terminal.

“Your name is?” she asked him.

Mike gave his name, barely hanging on to his patience. He tried taking some deep breaths, his anguish eating him alive. Was Khat alive? Dead? God, don’t let her be dead. That’s all he’d prayed for all the way in on the Chinook to Bagram.

“Petty Officer Tarik,” she said briskly, “she’s just come out of surgery and is in ICU.” The nurse’s voice dropped. “Since you’re family, you can go up to that floor. I’ll ring ahead and tell the nurse’s station to expect you. Her surgeon is Dr. Bradley Mason.”

“Thank you,” Mike said, turning on his heel. He knew where ICU was. He’d flown in with one of his team two years ago, shot up and not expected to live. He’d remained with Farley throughout the ten hours of surgery and then in ICU, staying with him while he fought to live. And he had. Pushing through the doors into the passageway, Mike headed for the bank of elevators. He got some surprised looks from people as he strode past them. Yes, he was dirty, he stunk, eyes red-rimmed and jaw tight. With his black beard and long, black hair around his shoulders, they knew he was black ops. They stepped aside to allow him to pass them in the hall.

The elevator wouldn’t hurry fast enough. Mike took off his black baseball cap, tiredly rubbing his brow. The heel of his hand came back dirty. Nostrils flaring, the elevator halted and he threw his cap on and quickly exited, heading for the nurse’s station at the end of the hall. Before he ever got there, he saw a tall man about his height in a white lab coat, a green scrub cap on and green trousers.

“Petty Officer Tarik?” he called.

Mike nodded and halted. “Yes, sir. Dr. Mason?” The man was in his midforties, with blond hair and hazel eyes.

“Yes. Can you step into the lounge with me for a minute?”

“No,” he growled. “You can talk to me on the way to Khat’s ICU unit. Which one is she in?”

Mason’s brows rose, but he nodded. “She’s in ICU 3. Come this way.” He gestured to another area beyond the nurse’s station. “Sergeant Shinwari just came out of surgery. Her appendix burst and we’ve removed it and flushed her entire abdominal cavity, trying to get every bit of bacteria out of there. She’s critical, and I frankly don’t know if she’s going to make it or not.” He gave Mike a look of sympathy. “What she has going for her is that she’s young and strong.”

“My combat medic said something about her going septic,” Mike said, barely holding on to his emotions.

“Yes. We’ve got her on maximum antibiotics. She was very dehydrated when she arrived. We’ve got her electrolytes stable now, but our main concern is her heart. With that much infection moving through her body for probably two or three days, it’s very hard on her heart. Plus, she’s got to beat that infection.” Mason halted at the plastic and glass enclosure. “You need to remember, even though she’s unconscious, she can hear you. So, be there for her? Inspire her? Nothing negative. Don’t tell her she could die.”

“I got it, doctor.” Mike grimly pushed through the door.

Mason stood there for a moment, as if maybe he wanted to say something about how dirty Mike was, and then turned around and left.

Mike put his safed M-4 in the corner. He took off his cap, sitting at the end of Khat’s bed. Everything in there was white. The monitors were beeping. He looked at them. He knew how to read them. Her blood pressure was two hundred now, her pulse one-hundred and fifty. Watching the cardiac monitor, her heart rhythm was solid and steady. She had a chance to survive this. Khat looked hauntingly fragile, her skin so pale that he could literally see the small, fine veins beneath her eyes and across her closed eyelids. He touched her hand. Her flesh felt so hot. He noticed her neck was packed in something. Touching it, he realized it was dry ice. Yeah, to cool the blood flowing into and out of her head to save her brain from getting fried and destroyed by too high a fever.

Leaning over, he caressed Khat’s parted lips. They felt coolish beneath his mouth. A sob wanted to wrench out of his chest, but as he lifted away, watching her face, he savagely stuffed his reaction down deep. “Khat, it’s Mike. I’m here, angel, and you’re going to be all right.” He picked up her hand, holding is gently. “You’re a fighter, and you’ve won at everything life has ever thrown at you. Now, just this one last time, Khat, throw your heart into this fight, beat this infection. Do it for me. Do it for us.” His eyes burned with tears. He blinked them back, hearing his voice tremble with barely controlled emotions. Mike wanted to touch her, but he was filthy. He needed to shower and get a change of clean clothes. He didn’t want to add contamination to what she was already fighting.

“I’m going to get a shower, Khat. And clean clothes. Then, I’m coming back here. I’m going to sit this out with you. I love you...”

The nurses at the station watched him warily as he strode toward the elevators. Mike knew where the men’s locker room was down in the basement of the facility. He’d packed a small duffle with a clean uniform, toiletry items, towel, soap and wash cloth. It was all that he’d need. His stomach growled as he entered the elevator. On the way back, he’d stop at the cafeteria, buy something quick he could eat on the way up to ICU to be with Khat.

* * *

WHEN MIKE ARRIVED back at ICU forty minutes later, he found a chair sitting beside Khat’s bed. It hadn’t been there before. He’d left all his weapons in a nearby armory locker, not wanting to scare the hell out of the medical staff. This time, he had on clean cammies and his baseball cap, and was wearing a sidearm only, plus his KA-BAR knife in a sheath on his lower left leg.

When he entered, he moved to Khat’s bedside and picked up her hand. Because he was clean, he could trail his fingers across the high slope of her cheek, feel the velvet of her flesh beneath his pads. Her hair had been washed and someone had tried to comb it into order. He leaned over, kissing her brow. “I love you, Khat. I can tell you right now the food at the cafeteria is about on par with those MREs we were eating.”

He heard the monitor’s beeping change. Looking up, he saw her blood pressure drop below two-hundred. Her pulse rate was going down, too. Now, he wondered if talking with her, holding her hand, threading his fingers through her hair, all helped in some small way.

The door opened.

Mike turned. A small nurse with dark brown eyes and black hair smiled hesitantly. “Petty Officer Tarik?”

“Yes?”

“Um, we just wanted you to know that when you were in here before, and you touched your fiancée’s hand and kissed her...”

Mike gave her a hard look, expecting to be told it was against some asinine reg that he couldn’t kiss her. “What?” he snapped.

The nurse jerked, her eyes rounding. “I...uh...well we noticed her vitals going down.” She quickly pointed to the monitors. “We thought it was a good sign and we brought in the chair, hoping you’d stay a while with her?”

Mike relaxed and erased the scowl on his face. He knew he could look like one mean sonofabitch if he chose to put on his game face. “I’m a permanent fixture here until she gets better,” he growled. “I was noticing that, too.”

“Yes, it’s a hopeful sign.” Nervously, she opened her hands. “Can we get you anything? Coffee? Water? And oh—do you know there’s a room for visiting family if you’d like to catch some sleep?”

“I’ll sleep in here. And yeah, I can use some bottles of water if you got some handy.” He noticed the name on the nurse’s lapel was Gardner, E.

“Great! I’ll be right back. If you need anything, just press this buzzer right here?” She walked over and showed it to him, the device clipped on the edge of Khat’s pillow.

“Water will do,” he said stiffly. All he wanted was to be left alone with Khat. He was sure even in an unconscious state, she hated the sounds of all the beeps of the monitors in the room. He watched Gardner’s look of relief he wasn’t going to rip her head off. SEALs had a very dark name in the world. You simply didn’t mess with them, their team or their loved ones. Nurse Gardner had reason to be jumpy around him.

He lowered the railing on the bed and sat close, encasing Khat’s hand in his.

Gardner came back, giving him a warm smile. She set the bottle of water on the tray table.

“Is this dry ice they’re packing her with?” he asked, pointing to Khat’s neck.

“Yes, dry ice. It’s wrapped so that it won’t freeze her skin,” Gardner said. “It’s to cool the blood going to and from her brain. When we first brought her in, her temp was 105 degrees fahrenheit. Now—” she pointed to the monitor “—it’s 104, so that’s hopeful.”

Mike wiped his eyes. “When will her fever break?”

Gardner said, “No one know for sure, Petty Officer.”

“She’s sweating heavily,” Mike noted.

“That’s the fever,” the nurse explained gently. She went over and checked the two IVs, one in each of Khat’s arms. “She was really lucky to get Dr. Mason. He’s one of our best surgeons.”

Nodding, Mike said, “Any chance of dimming the lights in here? They’re damn bright.”

“Of course.” She showed him where the dimmer switch was located.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly, dismissing her. Gardner smiled nervously and quickly left.

Mike looked at Khat’s relaxed face, her lips slightly parted. Her red hair was in tangles. He found himself threading his fingers through that clean mass, taming it slowly into place around her face and shoulders. Exhaustion weighed down on him. He hadn’t slept in nearly forty-eight hours. Pulling the chair up next to the bed, he laid his head on his arms, his one hand holding Khat’s limp, sweaty fingers. Like all SEALs, he’d learned a long time ago to drop off to sleep in a split second.

* * *

NURSE EILEEN GARDNER watched the SEAL go to sleep. Her supervisor, nurse Celeste Rogers, stopped and looked at the computer that showed Khat’s bodily function recordings. “She’s improving a little.”

Eileen sighed. “You can see why. That SEAL is a total piece of eye candy, with or without a beard and that long hair of his.”

Celeste laughed softly. “Careful, Gardner. He seems nice because you’re giving him what he needs for his lady. The moment something goes wrong, he’ll be climbing our asses so fast it will take your breath away.”

Looking up, Eileen said, “No way.”

“Way.” Celeste was forty-five years old, an Army major, and she’d worked with all the black ops groups. “You can’t tame a tiger, or in this case, since we’re here in Afghanistan, a snow leopard.” Her mouth curved ruefully. “I was married to a SEAL once.”

“Really?”

“Not for long,” Celeste drawled, sitting on the counter, pushing her dark brown hair back behind her shoulders with her fingers. “Those guys are big-time protectors of the ones they love.” She shrugged. “I found it suffocating. He was ready to defend me at every turn, and I really didn’t want my husband fighting my battles. I can fight my own.”

“He’s sure all of that,” Eileen agreed, resting her chin in her palm, curiously watching the SEAL.

“He’s a first class petty officer,” Celeste warned, her voice going deeper. “That means Tarik’s been around the block more than a few times. So, don’t back up on him. This guy knows how to pull rate, rank and anything else if he needs too in order to manipulate the medical and military system to get what he wants for his woman.”

“But, he’s enlisted!” Eileen protested. “We’re officers.”

“Yeah,” Celeste said, grinning, “SEALs don’t much notice the difference between officers and enlisted personnel. He won’t follow your orders, so don’t expect it. The best way to work with this guy is to explain what you’re doing and why. It will go a long way toward neutrality between him, his woman and us, okay?”

Raising her brows, Eileen murmured, “Okay.” She watched Celeste walk away to check the other ICU unit computers on the patients they watched over. Sighing, she wished she’d meet a guy like Tarik. The man was absolutely devoted to the red-haired woman—who Eileen didn’t think would make it. All the nurses, with the exception of Celeste, had quietly bet that Khatereh Shinwari would be dead inside twenty-four hours after the operation. Finding that sad, Eileen felt sorry for the SEAL who obviously loved that woman with a fierceness she’d never seen between any man and woman in her life. It was so tragic...

Chapter Two

WHEN MIKE WOKE UP, his spine was stiff from laying his head on the side of the bed all night. Lifting his head, he saw Khat was still unconscious. He looked across the bed at the monitors and saw her fever remained at 104. She was still fighting infection. He opened his hand where he’d held her hand all night. Throwing off the deep drowsiness, he glanced at his watch. It was 0800.

The door opened and closed.

“How are you feeling this morning, Petty Officer Tarik?” the nurse asked, going to change out the IV bags on the other side of the bed for Khat.

Sitting up, he rumbled, “I’ve slept in worse places.” He watched the nurse for a moment, seeing that she was the supervisor. “How is Khat doing?” He stood up, stretching fitfully, moving his hand down Khat’s damp arm.

“The good news is her temp hasn’t climbed,” Celeste explained. “I’m not a doctor so I can’t say more than that.”

Mike rubbed his eyes and studied her in the silence. “Well, this is just between you and me. What else?”

Celeste smiled a little as she gently lifted Khat’s head and neck, removing the ice pack and replacing it with a new one. “I personally think your lady has the heart of lion. I think her heart will beat back that infection. You just stay with her because her vitals are much improved over yesterday. She knows you’re here, even if she’s unconscious and caught up in the fever combined with the shock of surgery.”

Mike gave her a grateful look, feeling a powerful surge of hope in his chest. “Thank you,” he said, his voice suddenly thick with emotion.

“I’ve seen a lot of patients in ICU,” Celeste told him quietly, positioning the dry ice on either side of Khat’s slender neck. “Your lady has red hair for a reason.” She grinned. “She’s a fighter.”

Mike pushed his fingers across his brow. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Don’t need to. It’s just a feeling around her that I picked up on.” Celeste touched Khat’s other hand and gave it a little squeeze. “I’ve found in the twenty-some years I’ve been a nurse that the single most important thing to a patient pulling through is love.” She held his moist stare. “And touch. So, keep doing what you’re doing, Petty Officer? Remain, as much as you can, at her side.”

Chest tight, Mike was so damn close to crying that it was embarrassing. Choking back a sob lodged in his throat, he was afraid to speak.

“You have two visitors. Emma and Khalid Shaheen? They’re asking permission to come up here to see you and Khatereh. Will you authorize that or not?”

Mike rallied. Emma and Khalid. “Yes, they’re like family to us. Tell them to come on up?”

Celeste nodded. She pointed to several chairs outside along the light blue wall. “I can only allow one person at time in here, so why not have them wait there? There’s coffee and tea in our lounge, too.”

“Will do,” Mike answered, feeling new hope race through him.

She left the ICU unit. He never realized how much he needed some support until right now. Turning, he leaned down and kissed Khat’s lips. They were warm. Brushing his thumb across her pale cheek, he whispered, “I love you, angel. You made it through last night. Keep fighting for us. Emma and Khalid are here. I’m going to let each of them come in and sit with you for a bit. I know you’ll like having their company.”

As if to confirm it, Mike lifted his head and saw her pulse lowering even more. Perhaps out of relief? He wasn’t sure. Turning, he saw the elevator doors open. Khalid stepped out with Emma. Khalid was in a US Army olive green flight suit. Emma, who had a worried look on her face, was in the blue flight suit she wore when she was flying their helicopter for their charity. Mike squeezed Khat’s hand, and he said, “I’ll be right back. Emma and Khalid just arrived...”

Moving out of the room, Mike met them outside the door. Khalid shook his hand. Emma hugged him. Mike closed his eyes for a moment, feeling Emma’s strong arms hold him tightly, as if to feed him hope. Releasing Emma, he gestured to the chairs.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice strained, as they sat down. “Have a seat.”

Khalid stared into the ICU at Khat. “I’ve been flying missions. I just got back here to Bagram and Emma called me and told me about Khat. How is she doing?”

Mike explained everything, keeping it to the short version. Emma’s eyes filled with tears.

“May I go in and see her, Mike?”

“Sure,” he murmured.

Khalid placed his hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Why don’t you and I go down to the cafeteria and get some breakfast? Emma can stay with Khat.”

Emma stood up and said, “Good idea. Mike, you need some break time. Have you had a shower or anything?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I got cleaned up yesterday after I arrived.”

Khalid stood. “Come on. Khat’s in good hands with Emma at her side.”

Reluctantly, Mike stood. He felt infused with their care and kindness. “Yeah, okay. Emma, If anything changes...”

Emma nodded. “I know where you guys will be. I’ll get a hold of you, I promise.”

Emma stepped into the dimly lit ICU, her expression sad as she went to Khat’s bedside. Picking up Khat’s hand between her own, she whispered, “Khat? It’s Emma. Khalid and I are here. I’m going to sit with you for a while. Mike needs to get some breakfast and then a shower.” She wiped tears from her cheeks with her other hand as she sat down in the chair. “You hang in here, Khat. Mike loves you. And we do, too. We want you back with us.”

* * *

KHALID SAID LITTLE as Mike ate like a horse. He’d been flying an Apache at another combat engagement and on his way back for refueling at Bravo, heard about the firefight going down at the village where Khat was being cared for by the Shinwari villagers. He noticed the tightness in Mike’s face, the desolation in his brown-gold eyes, the way his mouth was set. Khalid remembered all too well when he was falling in love with Emma. She had been kidnapped by Taliban and he starkly remembered what it had done to him. And to Emma. Luckily, Emma had escaped using her own wits and courage. Mike was in a different and far more difficult situation with Khat.

Khalid drank his coffee and sat in the large, noisy chow hall. Mike had found a place against the wall so he could always look out into the area and observe. It was a SEAL thing, Khalid knew, and not a bad one. They were always at risk no matter where they were at in Afghanistan. Even Bagram was not safe.

“Will Khat wake up on her own or do they have her in a medically induced coma?” Khalid asked.

“No, she’s not in a coma. Dr. Mason wasn’t very hopeful about her chances,” Mike muttered, pushing his emptied tray to one side. He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, wadded it up and threw it on the tray. “The nurse supervisor said she was unconscious from the infection, high fever, plus the trauma of surgery.” He picked up his coffee.

“What can we do to support you?”

Mike gave his friend a grateful look. “Just being here is a help, Khalid. I know you and Emma are damned busy with a lot of other commitments.”

Khalid gave him a lazy smile. “Never too busy to help a friend. I’m off the flight roster for the next two days. Emma has no more flights to villages for the next week. Can we come in here and spell you? Give you a chance to eat, go shower or just take a walk?”

Mike nodded. “I’d like that. I know Khat loves both of you, and right now the more people who come to sit with her is a plus. The nurse supervisor was telling me earlier that in all her years of experience, the ones in ICU who made it had loved ones present.” His mouth set. “And I don’t want to leave her alone if I can help it.”

“Then we’ll make it happen,” Khalid murmured. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

Cranking his shoulders to rid them of the tension, Mike said, “More off than on.” He shook his head, staring down at his coffee cup. “I’d doze off, snap awake, thinking she was dead, get up, make sure she was still breathing and then lay my head down on her bed again and doze off. It was like that all night.”

“I can stay as long as you need me this morning. They do have a room where family can get some sleep in a good bed.”

It sounded tempting. “Thanks, but I feel like Khat’s going to come out of unconsciousness sometime today. I want to be there when she does.”

“You know Emma and Khat are close. We’ll set up a schedule where you get breakfast, lunch and dinner with one of us and the other will stay with Khat. Okay?”

Mike nodded, pursing his lips. His voice was gruff with barely controlled emotions. “Yeah, that would be great. Thank you...”

* * *

EMMA SMILED WARMLY and stood up as Mike pulled open the door to the ICU unit.

“You look better,” she murmured, releasing Khat’s hand and stepping out.

Mike had eaten a ton of food and then had a shower. He felt a helluva lot better. Stronger. “I am, thanks. Any change?” he asked, gazing at Khat.

Emma nodded. “The nursing supervisor for this new shift is Major Linda Black. She came in to check on Khat. She’s very nice, Mike. Linda said her vitals are stable and that’s a hopeful sign she’s battling that awful infection.”

“I just wish Khat would wake up.”

“The fever has to break first. That’s the best sign that could happen,” Emma said. “At least, that’s what Linda told me.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Mike said, “I have a feeling she’ll wake up sometime today.”

Emma stepped outside the unit and he moved into it. “I’m going to catch some breakfast at the chow hall here at Bagram. We’ll swing by before we leave? Make up some kind of schedule so we can spell you?”

“That would be good,” Mike said, giving her a slight, strained smile. What would he do without good people like this in his life? He watched them walk toward the elevators and his heart swelled with hope. He’d also called his mother and father, Bedir and Annie Tarik, to let them know what was going on, as well. He didn’t want them to worry, either. His parents, who lived in Alpine, California, were relieved to hear from him, and they immediately said they would pray for Khat. Prayers were always good in Mike’s world, and he was humbled by his parents surrounding Khat with their love.

Turning, Mike walked over and slid his fingers through Khat’s shining red hair. He kissed her hairline and stroked her cheek, whispering, “We’re lucky to have good friends like Khalid and Emma. They’ve got our back, angel. Now, I want you to keep fighting for us, for our love. My mom and dad are praying for you, as well. I’m right here with you every step of the way.”

His breath caught. Mike’s eyes narrowed on her face. Did he just see Khat’s lashes move? And then he glanced up at the monitors—her temperature had dropped by two degrees! Heart pulsing with anxiety and hope, Mike touched her skin. It was no longer as hot. Her skin was dry. He pressed the buzzer, wanting a nurse in there immediately.

Linda Black answered the call. “Can I help you?” she asked, coming into ICU unit.

“Yeah,” Mike growled. He told her what he’d seen and what the monitors showed.

Linda slid her hand over Khat’s other arm. “Her fever’s broken.” She gave him a huge smile of relief. “This is great news! I’m going to call Dr. Mason. You just stay with her. She’s going to become conscious very shortly...”