in front of a small field desk.
“Really, we could just clean the wound, bandage it and be done in a lot less time,” Buck said. “If you’ll give me whatever you use to clean with, I can try to do it myself.”
“Didn’t you say you couldn’t perform surgery on yourself?” Angela washed her hands, dried them and pulled on a pair of latex gloves, while her nurse spread out sterile drop cloths across the table, then laid out scissors, gauze, Betadine and tweezers. She used the scissors to remove the makeshift bandage from his arm. Blood oozed from the wound.
Angela inspected it. “See? You need stitches.” She took over after the nurse completed removing the bandage and irrigated the wound with a syringe.
The nurse patted it dry with gauze and applied Betadine to the skin around the wound.
Angela threaded the needle with suture line, her movements quick and efficient. “We’re short on local anesthetics. Hell, we’re out of most medications.” Angela met his gaze with a steady one of her own. “You’ll have to hold very still and grin and bear it.”
If he wasn’t mistaken, she almost looked like she was enjoying taunting him with the threat of pain. He nodded. “Just do it quickly. We don’t know when or if Koku’s men will show up and cause more trouble.”
Before the last word left his mouth, she stuck the needle into the edge of one side of the wound and looped it through the other. She talked softly as she worked, informing her nurse of what had occurred in Bentiu.
Buck stared at the top of Angela’s head while bracing his jaw to keep from cursing. It hurt like hell, but he wouldn’t jerk his hand away or let loose any of the choice words he wanted to say at that moment. Instead, he focused on Angela, taking advantage of her concentration on his arm to study her.
She hadn’t changed much in their years apart. If anything, she’d become even more beautiful. Her dark hair framed her face, her olive-toned skin was a little darker and the confidence she exuded was palpable. The woman had matured into a self-assured, capable doctor with a steady hand.
Buck’s heart swelled with pride for her. “I always knew you’d make it,” he said softly.
Her hand stilled for a fraction of a second before she tied off the first stitch. “That’s what happens when you stay focused.”
Her comment hurt. He shouldn’t have let it, but it did. Angela hadn’t known how much he wanted to stay at school and be with her. He hadn’t told her, figuring a clean break would be better than leaving her holding out hope for his return. “I had my reasons for leaving.”
“Yeah. And it doesn’t matter, does it? You left. I stayed. We lived our own lives.” She slipped the needle into another section of the wound. “Separately.”
Buck winced and bit down on his tongue. He figured Angela was right. Why bother rehashing the past? It was over. What he needed to do was concentrate on getting her out of the camp before Koku’s men came looking for another place to shake up.
Angela and Brenda worked on his arm with quiet efficiency.
By the time Angela tied off the last stitch, Buck could swear he’d ground at least a quarter of an inch off his back teeth. He released the breath he’d held and stood.
“Now, let’s get you out of here.” Buck reached for her wrist.
Angela stepped backward, avoiding his hand. “I told you, I’m not going. I can’t leave these people.”
“You saw what happened in Bentiu. Those guys could come here next.”
“These people need us. We can’t abandon them.” Angela peeled the gloves from her hands.
Buck’s jaw tightened. He couldn’t walk away and leave her here, in danger. “You’re not safe.”
“They’re not safe.” She laid the gloves on the table and captured his gaze in an unflinching one of her own. “I’m not going.”
Big Jake’s voice came over Buck’s headset. “We’ve got company.”
“You may not have a choice,” Buck said. “My guys say Koku’s men are coming into camp as we speak.”
No sooner had he made the announcement than a burst of gunfire could be heard outside, followed by women screaming.
“If you don’t leave for me—” Buck nodded toward her nurse “—leave for Brenda. We need to get both of you out of here. Now.” He took Angela’s hand and dragged her toward the door.
More gunfire erupted.
Angela dug in her heels and pulled her hand free. “You’re a SEAL. You can stop them.”
“Not if we’re outnumbered. And sometimes that only causes more casualties when so many civilians are involved.”
“Seriously, guys,” Big Jake said into Buck’s ear. “They’re headed straight for your tent.”
“My men say Koku’s men are headed directly for this tent. Are you coming with me or staying to argue with a killer?”
* * *
ANGELA HAD SPENT so much of her time working with and healing the people in the refugee camp. To leave them would be like abandoning her own children.
“Dr. Vega.” Brenda touched her arm, her eyes rounded, her hand shaking. “We can’t help anyone if we’re dead.”
Her nurse’s words hit hard. If Brenda was scared, Angela owed it to her to get her out. She turned to Buck. “Take my nurse and get her to safety.”
He shook his head. “I’m not leaving without you.”
One of the women Angela had been training to assist with medical treatments ran into the tent. “Dr. Angela! Dr. Angela! The men. They’re coming for you. They’re coming for the doctor.” She took Angela’s arm and hauled her toward the door. “You have to go. You go. Now.”
Angela’s gaze met Buck’s over the woman’s head. “Okay. We’ll go.”
Buck touched his headset. “We’re on our way.” He stepped in front of Angela before she could leave the tent. “But not that way.” He pulled his Ka-Bar knife from the sheath on his belt and strode through the tent to the back, where he jabbed the knife into the fabric and slit an opening large enough for a person to get through.
Then he stepped out and held the fabric wide. “Now you,” he said, waving for Brenda to come next.
The nurse ducked through and moved out of the way.
While Buck and Brenda were making their way out of the tent, Angela got busy throwing equipment, supplies and medication into her backpack.
Buck stuck his head back into the tent. “Angela, we have to go now. They’re almost on us.”
Angela shot one final glance around the tent she’d called home for the past six months, tossed in a couple bottles of water and dived out of the tent.
Loud
