Terry Watkins - The Big Burn

In the field about a mile away behind the Quonset huts and other buildings, commandos were drop-roping from two choppers.

She climbed in to the Humvee and they took off toward the camp.

Just then a group of men jogged by in tan shorts and green T-shirts. They all looked the same, as though they were from the same family. A bunch of middleweight fighters, short-cropped hair, hard bodies, all yelling in a sharp cadence.

She began to feel ill, the effects of the heat and the lingering exhaustion.

Too hot.

She had to get the damn fire suit off or she’d pass out. “Can you stop a second?”

He pulled over.

Anna jumped out and unsnapped the suspenders and began pulling the heavy overalls down. She wore black shorts and a gray sleeveless T-shirt underneath.

“Pretty damn hot, isn’t it?” Brock said.

She stepped out of the fire suit and tossed it into the back of the Humvee.

“Crazy hot.”

“This place is locked and loaded with testosterone,” Brock warned. “I wouldn’t go any further than that. Where we’re going there’s air-conditioning.”

“I wasn’t intending to go any further, at least not until I’m standing in front of a running shower.” She refused to get back into the Humvee. “I’m not talking to anybody without a shower and some clean, dry clothes. You’ve changed clothes, now it’s my turn.”

Brock chewed on the left part of his bottom lip. He had to think about her attitude for a second. She wasn’t in the military so he couldn’t call it insubordination. At least not technically. But there was the fact that she’d made that fire jump against direct orders from her boss. So she was insubordinate by nature, apparently.

The thing about her he worked hard to ignore was the shock at how beautiful she was, even under that ash and dirt. It was hard to keep his gaze off her. He turned and looked forward.

“Well, shit,” Brock said. “I’ve got orders to deliver you.”

“Why did they send you in the first place? Was it because they knew if they’d sent a CIA guy I wouldn’t have believed him for a second without proof?”

“Maybe.”

“What if I refuse now?”

“Well, this is a top-secret base and we’re in the middle of a global war. I can to shoot you, but then this whole exercise would have been for nothing.”

“That’s right.”

“You’re not coming?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

Brock looked over at her, frowned and shrugged. “You need a shower and fresh clothes. I can appreciate that.”

“That’s big of you.” She crossed her arms and leaned on one hip. Stubbornness was written all over the woman. He had to quiet the brewing storm.

“Okay, since I’m the one who’s going to train you, and jump into this mess with you, we need to get along. So I’ll offer a compromise.”

She shifted her position. Maybe he was on the right track.

He continued, “This guy we’re going to see has a file on your father. We’ll be there in about five minutes so he can meet you and know that you’re willing to go in. Then, the minute that little bit of time-wasting is over, I’ll take you to the showers and get you some clean clothes. Five lousy minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”

Her arms dropped to her sides. He almost had her. Just a little more reasoning, and she’d see things his way. He was sure of it. “See, the problem is, he’s a bureaucrat, CIA type. He runs things on this mission. It’s his job to get your father off that island. So, if I were you, and you want to see your dad again, I’d just placate the man for five minutes. Is there any way you can do that for me?”

Anna stared at him for a few seconds. He wasn’t sure which way she would go. Brock hadn’t noticed before, but she had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, and just when he was beginning to believe those eyes were hardening, and he’d have to come up with more bullshit to get her into the Humvee, she climbed in.

It had been a long time since Brock had had to deal with a civilian, or even a regular soldier, for that matter. The kind of men he dealt with were the elite of the elite from all the branches of the military. But he had a feeling that this woman was just as tough.

Anna was too foggy-headed to argue and besides he’d made a compelling case. They passed three more Quonset huts, a couple concrete structures and a few large military tents. She spotted men moving like wolves in the forest that ran alongside the dirt road. Another team of men crossed in front of them and continued into the high grass. These men did have uniforms. Jungle fatigues. And guns.

Brock pulled in front of the end hut.

“Here we are.”

“Who’s this guy I’m going to meet?” Anna asked.

“Name’s Curtis Verrill. He’s the head spook around here. This is his mission.”

“They run all your missions?”

“No. They often propose. Guys like me, dispose,” he said with a smile.

“Meaning that you carry out their orders?”

“Meaning they tell us what they want, and we figure out how to go get it. Could be rescuing somebody, delivering an important package, hunting down a bad guy, whatever.”

“In this case recruiting a smoke jumper. Which, I might add, is how this all got started with my father in the first place.”

“I don’t question the missions, I just figure out how to do ’em. They’re the brains, we’re the brawn.”

“I think you’re both. You designed the mission they want done. That takes brains.”

He smiled again. “It takes experience and professional common sense.”

“Are you modest by nature or by design?”

“Both. I’m a realist. This is an eclectic business. We put together the kind of force structure we need for each job. Each element brings something we need. We live and die by team effort and by always making sure we have the right people for the job.”

“Like me?”

“Like you. But not normally. We usually bring in specialists from all branches. Or even go outside the military. Whatever it takes to get the job done. It’s like everywhere else. The Ivy League guys dream up something to do, we tell them if it’s possible and how to do it. Then we do it and they take all the credit.”

She exchanged a little conspiratorial grin with him. She understood perfectly. “A little like having a long discussion on a short topic with Bureau of Land Management people.”

He nodded. “You got it. You’re about to meet the Bureau of World Management.”

“I detect something of a bad attitude.”

“My attitude is very flexible,” Brock said. “It depends on my proximity to things that irritate me. And right now we’re real close to an irritant.”

Anna chuckled. As much as she’d have preferred not to like Brock, he was the type, open and self-deprecating, that she could easily connect with.

They got out of the Humvee.

“One more thing,” Brock said. “You’ll be walking through the communications room on the way back to his office. There aren’t any females in there. Or anywhere in the camp, for that matter. Just horny guys who can’t get into town. We’re in shutdown, mission isolation. Don’t even smile. It’ll act like a spark in dry hay.”

“I’ll do my best to ignore anything with more appendages than I have.”

“Excuse me, but there’s nothing I’ve seen around here with more appendages than you have. Slump and frown, that might help.”

She laughed. What had she gotten herself into?

He pushed open the door and went in ahead of her. She hesitated, staring at him. He turned and shrugged. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“You didn’t.”

The cool air took her breath away for a moment. The inside of the hut felt just like a refrigerator. She inhaled, as if trying to suffuse every cell with coolness.