A Wicked Persuasion. Karen FoleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
watched as he opened the back of the Humvee and let the dog jump in before he climbed into the driver’s seat and thrust the vehicle into gear. The roads were thick with mud and washed-out in some places, but the Humvee bounced over the ruts without any problem.
“Here,” he said, handing her a paper bag. “I brought you some breakfast. And a coffee.”
Kate accepted the bag, expecting to find another Pop-Tart pastry. Instead, she found a hot breakfast sandwich and some fruit inside. The unexpected gesture both touched and confused her.
“Thank you. Did you already eat?”
“What? Oh, yeah. I didn’t get any sleep last night after we—” He broke off abruptly. “I was at the dining facility around 4:00 a.m.” He glanced at her as he spoke, and twin patches of color rode high on his cheekbones, the only indication that he was thinking about their interlude, and that he wasn’t as unfeeling about it as he would have her believe. Suddenly, Kate felt much lighter.
“Oh, well, thanks.” She took a bite of the sandwich, realizing for the first time how hungry she was. Then she recalled the helicopter flight from Bagram to Camp Leatherneck, and felt her stomach rebel. “How are we getting to Kandahar?”
A brief smile touched his mouth, but he didn’t look at her. “Not by Black Hawk.”
“Perfect.”
They headed back to the flight line, and Kate looked across the tarmac to one of the biggest aircraft she had ever seen. Stuffing her sandwich in the bag, she turned to Chase.
“That’s a C-17 Globemaster,” he said, nodding toward the plane. “One of the Marine expeditionary units is transferring to Kandahar and bringing three Humvees with them, but they have some extra seats, so we’re hitching a ride with them.”
Kate swallowed hard, reminding herself that at least it wasn’t a Black Hawk, and at least they didn’t have to drive overland.
Inside the makeshift terminal, Chase took her body armor out of her duffel bag and handed it to her, and then pulled on his own protective gear. Outside, he snapped a long lead to Charity’s harness and handed the end to Kate, who watched as he threw their duffel bags on a pallet, alongside dozens of other bags and assorted gear. Several soldiers began rearranging the baggage and then strapped it all down with an enormous net.
A military bus drew to a stop by the pallets. “This is our ride to the plane,” Chase said, taking the leash and indicating she should precede him.
“Sir, I’m sorry but the dog isn’t allowed on the flight,” said a military police officer, stepping forward to prevent Chase from boarding.
Kate thought Chase might try to argue with the man, but instead he pulled a small card out of his pocket and showed it to the officer, who saluted smartly and stepped back. “My mistake, sir. Enjoy your flight.”
They managed to get two seats together near the front of the bus, and Charity scooted in under their feet. Kate turned to Chase.
“What was that you showed the soldier?” she asked.
Reaching into his pocket, Chase withdrew an official looking ID card, but this one had a photo of Charity, and beneath it the words Military Working Dog, and what Kate guessed was the number of Chase’s unit.
“Is she really a working dog?” she asked in surprise. “I thought she was a stray that you rescued.”
“She is a stray, but the K-9 unit has been working with her for the past six months.” Chase reached down to rub the dog’s ears. “Her test scores are higher than most of the other dogs, and her conditioning is exceptional. My guess is that she was a military working dog with the Afghan army and somehow got separated from her handler and ended up in that village. She’s not actually part of the K-9 team, but the unit was good enough to give her an ID card so that I can bring her with me when I travel.”
“What about when you return to the States?” Kate asked. “Will you be able to take her home with you?”
He shrugged, but Kate didn’t miss the regret in his eyes. “Probably not. Officially, she’s not on any military roster and there are strict prohibitions about adopting local dogs. I’m fortunate that nobody has objected to my rescuing her, but locally adopted pets aren’t allowed to travel in crates owned by the military, nor are they permitted to fly on military flights back to the States.”
Kate stared at him. “You’re not going to leave her here?”
“I don’t want to, but the logistics of transporting her to a commercial airport and getting her on board are complicated. I can’t accompany her myself so I’ll need to find a sponsor to travel with her and make the right connections. That’s difficult and expensive.”
They fell silent, and Kate considered what would happen to Charity if she were left in Afghanistan. The K-9 unit might continue to look out for her after Chase left, but eventually they would return to the States, too. What would happen to the dog then?
She watched as dozens of soldiers climbed on board and shuffled past them, all wearing helmets and flak vests and carrying heavy backpacks. She drew curious glances from most of them, but one look at Chase’s face and they moved quickly past. When the bus was filled, it rumbled away from the terminal and across the tarmac, and pulled up alongside the enormous plane. Chase stood up, blocking the aisle so that Kate could slip out in front of him and exit the bus. On the tarmac, she gaped. There was no set of stairs. Instead, the entire back of the aircraft was open and a wide ramp extended onto the runway.
Kate watched as soldiers climbed up the ramp and disappeared into the cavernous interior. She looked questioningly at Chase.
“This way,” he said, and with the dog in the lead, he took her elbow to help her up the ramp. At the top, Kate couldn’t suppress a gasp.
“Are those Humvees?” she asked in astonishment.
Three of the military vehicles were parked end to end down the center of the plane, secured to the floor with chains and enormous nets. Along the walls were dozens of jump seats, and Kate watched as the soldiers quickly sat down with their backpacks on their knees.
“Sit here,” Chase said, and drew Kate down onto a canvas seat with nylon webbing for the back. Chase took the one next to her, and after ensuring that her seatbelt was fastened, tucked her shoulder bag beneath his feet and gave Charity a command to lie down. “Comfortable?”
Kate couldn’t imagine anything more uncomfortable, but understood that this was a military flight, designed for efficiency, not comfort. “It’s fine,” she assured him.
Within fifteen minutes, the rear of the aircraft closed and it began taxiing down the runway. There were no windows in the plane, and the interior was simply an enormous cavern of wiring, buttons and electrical equipment. The three Humvees were so close that if she stretched out her legs, her feet would touch the wheels, and it was impossible to see anything in the rest of the plane because their sheer size blocked her view. With a sigh, she put her head back and closed her eyes. But she was acutely conscious of the man who sat so close beside her that she could feel his pant leg brush against her own, hear his breathing, and smell the unique scent that she had come to associate with him.
“We’ll be at Kandahar in about ninety minutes,” Chase said, as the big plane lifted into the air.
She nodded. The roar of the engines effectively prevented any conversation, so she simply closed her eyes again. The throb of the engines lulled her into a state of relaxation, and she passed the time by recalling the events of the previous night in minute detail. It seemed no time had passed, when suddenly the big plane banked steeply and began to descend.
Kate glanced beside her, but Chase had his head tipped back against the seat and his eyes closed. Even in sleep, he was mouthwatering, and she allowed herself the luxury of studying his features. The soldiers closest to her were alert, but not alarmed, so she wasn’t worried. The plane continued to bank and descend, though, as if it were riding an invisible roller-coaster track.