“Don’t you worry about her meeting somebody and settling down before you get back?”
Trevor’s fist shot out and nailed him in the shoulder.
“Ow! What did you do that for?”
Trevor gave him a sober look. “I don’t need thoughts like that rolling around in my head. Especially while I’m over here.”
“Sorry. I get it. You need your head in the game. I have to admit, I’ll be glad to move on from this war. I can’t even imagine what it’ll be like to have a normal life. Seems like we’ve been here for ten years, instead of eight months and six days.”
“Are you planning to go back to Colorado when you leave the Marines?”
“Maybe. Or someplace out west where I can have room to breathe. Probably not west Texas or anyplace dry. Definitely someplace rural. I might want to try my hand at cattle ranching like my dad. I used to help him around the ranch. It was hard work, but I enjoyed riding horses and chasing cattle. The older I got, though, the less I liked working so hard.” He snorted out a laugh. “Back then I didn’t know what hard work was. I learned fast enough when I joined up.”
Like Trevor, he’d enlisted the month after high school graduation. Since he was two years older than his friend, he had a few more years in. He’d planned to be a Lifer, but he was rethinking it. God willing, he’d finish out this commitment and do one more before calling it quits. Civilian life sometimes sounded good, although he wasn’t sure where he’d go or what he’d do. Making his own decisions sounded good, especially after all he’d seen here. He did what he was ordered to do and gave his best to each mission, but sometimes he thought the decision-makers at the top of the chain of command didn’t have much of a strategy for success over here. He pressed his lips together. No use sharing his frustration with anybody else.
“Want to play a game of pool?” he asked Trevor.
“Nah. I’m gonna go back and finish my email to MJ. She worries if she doesn’t hear back from me, even though she knows I can’t always answer right away.” He gave Maverick a command in Italian, and the dog climbed to his feet, instantly at Trevor’s side.
“Why Italian? I thought most K-9s were trained with German.”
“That’s why. I don’t want him confused when we serve with other coalition forces.”
“Wait a minute. We serve with the Italians sometimes.”
Trevor raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but even they can’t understand my Italian spoken with an East Tennessee accent.”
Rob burst out laughing. “Now it all makes sense. Most of what I hear from you doesn’t sound at all like the Italian my grandparents speak. I can make out a few of the words you use, but I thought the commands you gave were all military lingo, and that’s why I’d never heard my grandparents use them.” He shook his head, still smiling as he waved at Trevor and strode off toward the recreation hall.
Their unit was out on patrol early the next morning in a part of the city that intel suggested had been penetrated again by Taliban forces. It was hard to know who the enemy was and what they were up to, but these patrols tried to limit the free-run the enemy forces had. It seemed like a game of whack-a-mole to him.
Trevor and Maverick led the group, with Rob and Howie McClintock fanned out behind them. Their eyes scanned from side to side, watching for movement as Maverick and his handler led them slowly forward.
Rob felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise a moment before he heard the scatter of pebbles coming from a ruined building. He gave the signal to stop, bringing his weapon up, as he scanned the area. He glanced at Maverick and saw him freeze and signal explosives, seconds before something detonated a couple meters away.
Rob was knocked sideways, and his helmet skittered off. He heard the roar of the blast. Rocks and other pieces of debris pummeled him. Once the dust began to lift, he was on the move, searching for Trevor and Maverick.
The dog had been hit, but had crawled over to his handler, and lay with his head on Trevor’s shoulder.
“Trevor!” He scurried to his buddy as fast as he could, pulling off his pack for supplies to stop the blood that oozed from Trevor’s ruined legs and from a piece of shrapnel stuck in his side.
Maverick whined but let him move closer. Trevor was still conscious. “Hang on, buddy. We’ll get you help.”
“Cold.” His friend shuddered. “Promise…”
“What? Anything. Just hang on.”
“Tell Mary Jane. She needs to know…what happened. Letter for her…in my duffel. Get it to her.” His voice faded, but he still struggled to talk.
“Just rest now, damn it. Save your strength.”
“Mav’rick?” Trevor’s speech was slurred.
“He’s hurt, but we’ll take care of him.”
“If he makes it, I want him…with MJ.”
“I’ll make sure he’s taken care of, Trevor. We’ve got to get you out of here and on a flight to Landstuhl.”
He watched as Trevor shook his head slightly and winced.
His friend closed his eyes and spoke in a whisper Rob could barely hear. “Take care of…love. Wish…told her…”
Medics ran in from a truck that brought up the rear of their patrol, and one of them elbowed him out of the way.
Rob watched as they checked Trevor’s wounds and packed them with bandages. He saw them exchange a look.
“I’m sorry, man.” Bart Meadows put his hand on Rob’s shoulder. The other medic, Chet Foster, turned his attention to Maverick. The dog’s eyes were glazed with pain, and he watched carefully as the medic approached him with a syringe.
“Calma,
