Four Years Ago âMake me a promise,â I whisper loud enough that TJâTito Jimenezâcan hear without giving away our position.
The desert heat chars my skin, and the sand beneath my stomach threatens to turn the both of us into steak. What I wouldnât give for an ice bath right now. And a decent meal. And a good bed.
The cement building stares back at me, taunting me with its empty windows. The nonexistent heat signature is like a gut punch to all the hours weâve already spent scoping this place.
âDonât worry. If you get stung by a scorpion again, Iâll name my sixthborn after you.â He chuckles from beside me.
Not this again.
I pull the finger at him without compromising my position and hold on the sniper rifle. âSomeone would need to be willing to sleep with you first before agreeing to spawn your offspring.â
âIâll have you know that the ladies find me extremely charming.â Fake offense drips from his tone.
âYour mom doesnât count.â
âBut my abuela does.â
I huff out a laugh. âAs soon as we get back to base, take a fucking shower. If they canât hear us, theyâll sure as shit smell you.â
âItâs called pheromones.â
Having a spotter is all fun and games until youâre in the desert heat doing surveillance. Out of everything this job puts us through, this type of work is the worst. My main distraction comes down to my need to wash my stench off me.
An hour of this is fun.
Three is relaxing.
Six gets boring.
Eight is taxing.
Twelve? Iâd be willing to kill TJ just to get out of here.
Shaking my head, I scope the parameter again. Like always, thereâs not a soul in sight at the abandoned compound. A warlord is allegedly residing here. Whoever gave us the info can eat shit if they intentionally fed us wrong intel.
Our instructions are to call it in if heâs spotted, then hold position until backup arrives so we can bring him in dead or alive. But thereâs been absolutely zero fucking movement in five hours. The only live thing weâve seen is a dog.
TJ and I think the intel is all shit. Until proven otherwise, the twelve hours weâve been here will continue to stretch to sixteen until someone grants us the mercy of taking our place.
The winds are picking up, and the last thing I want is to be caught out in the desert with our dwindling supplies. And if thereâs a sandstorm? Iâll personally escort us both to the gates of hell to get out of this shithole.
I radio in to the second location his wife allegedly lives at. âAnything?â
âA kid just showed up,â Marks mutters. âNo signs otherwise.â
I grit my teeth just as the captainâs voice rumbles through the headset. âGive it two more hours.â
TJ sighs. âI need to take a leak.â
Lovely.
Shuffling ensues beside me, and I glare at him when his ghillie suit slaps me in the face. He returns shortly after, and after an hour of silence, he says, âWant to play I-Spy?â
Whatever. What the fuck. Why not?
Our captain would be mortified if he knew what weâre doing for the proceeding hour. After years of playing this game during stakeouts, weâve gotten really good at mind fucking each other with the answer.
I spy with my little eye, something beginning with S.
Sand?
No. Stratosphere.
Can it be seen? No. Is it cause for ample bickering to pass the time? Yes.
Iâve had other spotters in the past, and TJ is the only one Iâve ever clicked with. Now we couldnât get rid of each other even if we tried.
âMeet at the pickup point at twenty-hundred hours,â the captain finally says three hours later.
I glance at my watch. Thank god. It isnât so hot anymore, but the showers are calling my name.
âCopy that,â TJ answers for me.
I wrap the towel around my body and squeeze out the excess water from my long hair, then get dressed into my clean uniform in case the captain decides he wants our asses back out there.
TJ walks out of the bathroom at the exact same time. A grin slashes across his face when he sees me, and he lifts up his arm to take a deep whiff of his armpits. âSmells like roses.â He sighs dreamily.
I gag. âDisgusting.â
âNice and washed just for you, roomie.â
My lips curl into a scowl as we both walk to the designated room I have the misfortune of sharing with himâas if spending fifteen hours with him wasnât enough time for us to bond. I love him, but I wouldnât mind some space every once in a while.
Itâs one of the smaller bases in this country, and our team is only meant to be here for a couple days. Because Iâm the only woman in a ten-mile radius, they donât have the place to spare to let me bunk by myself, so they shoved me in with TJ and a sleep-talker.
My dog tags sway as we walk through the building to the rooms. Most of the soldiers have gone to bed already, so we sneak into our room without waking anyone. I slowly open the door and glance inside, but thereâs no one in our temporary stay. The third person weâre rooming with must still be on a mission.
Unlucky for some.
We shuffle forward to switch on the lamp against the back wall.
âIâm fucked. If you start snoring, Iâm covering your face with a pillow,â TJ grumbles as he plops down onto the cot.
âDitto.â I copy what he does, except more eloquently.
I untie my boots and place them right next to my cot before lying down on the uncomfortable material. Reaching inside my pocket, I grab the picture I always keep on me. A lot of people here have wives and children waiting for them back home. Or parents eagerly waiting for their return.
The matted picture feels brittle in my grasp, but everything I want to see is still there. I think the photo was taken when I was seventeen and while my parents were out on a work trip. Gaya, Amy, Mathijs, and I snuck away to go paintballing. All of our hair is a complete mess, standing on all odds and ends. Out of the four of us, I have the least amount of paint on me, but thereâs a splatter of green going up the side of Mathijsâs face, and a big red blob right in the center of Gayaâs chest.
Mathijs has his arm wrapped around me, pointing the gun in the general direction of the camera, while Gaya is holding Amy bridal-style. Each one of us is smiling ear to ear like we have the whole world in front of us, and nothing could ever get us down. Weâre grinning like fools, even though the other team annihilated us.
Itâs what I imagined a happy family might look like. Whenever I come back from deployment, thereâs always a feeling like somethingâs missing. Even though I live in my sisterâs spare room, it never feels like home. But out here? Sleeping in a random cot in the middle of fucking nowhere? With the chance of getting attacked while Iâm asleep? This feels more like home to me.
Weâre all fish out of water here. All fighting for survival while having each otherâs backs. It gives us a sick sense of belonging and companionship. Like weâre equals with the same goals.
âYou gonna call the lover boy once youâre back?â
I whip my head toward TJ and hold back a sneer. I donât like when people bring up Mathijs. Iâve thought of contacting him a million times. Check up on him beyond just looking on the internet. He isnât the type of person who carries hatred in his heart, but I donât think I could bring myself to look him in the eyes after practically vanishing off the face of the planet. But, God, do I miss him.
âAre you going to call Kendall back?â
TJ winces. âShe told me she wanted to get married.â
I snort. âGod forbid a girl wants that.â
âIt was our third time seeing each other.â
âAnd the third year youâve been messaging each other. Get a grip.â I roll my eyes and grin his way.
Since I enlisted, there hasnât been a day where I regretted my decision to leave home. Thatâs a lieâthere were a great many instances where I wished I was in the comfort of my own bed instead of practically killing myself during training drills.
If I stayed home, what would I be doing with my life? Catering to some man my parents chose? Pop out babies left, right, and center just to have something to fill my days? Maybe if I continued with my initial plan, Iâd be a broke journalist getting shot at for entirely different reasons.
Out here, I can prove myself. Make a difference in a way Iâd never have been able to back home. With every life that I couldnât save, thereâs one that I did. One person who can go home to wish their children goodnight one more time, or eat dinner with their family.
That type of reunion isnât waiting for me once I get back to America. But out here, faced with the prospect of debt, nothing becomes more priceless than embracing life.
Iâm not out here for a noble purpose, but something far more selfish. My mother might not be proud of the person Iâve become. It doesnât matter what insults she throws my way, I know the impact Iâve made. Iâm not here to defend my country, Iâm here to protect people. Whatâs my mother ever done but traumatized them instead?
I made my own family without her, and Iâll do whatever I can to keep them safe.