new nurse. If nothing else, he wanted to find out if his original analysis of her attitude had been correct.
“Hello, Ms. Spencer. Do we have to be so formal, though?”
“I… no, I guess not.” No sense blaming him for Charlie’s death, she thought.
“Good. I’m Doug, in case you don’t remember. And it’s June, right?”
“Yes. Douglas?”
He laughed, showing an even row of white teeth that appeared to have been capped but hadn’t. “No, just plain Doug. My parents liked the short version, I guess. I’m wondering why we haven’t met before now.
Are you new?”
“I took an extended leave after my husband was killed in a helicopter crash.”
Doug’s smile disappeared. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“No reason you should have. I don’t know why I brought it up.”
“Nevertheless, losing a spouse is rough on anyone. I know.”
June halted in the act of turning to leave. “You lost your wife?”
“It’s been a while. The Mall Terrorists.”
“Oh God! How terrible.”
“It doesn’t much matter how she died, June. Dead is dead. I loved her, but after a while you have to go on.”
“Well… maybe. Anyway, I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Same here. What brought you to the CDC?”
“My husband worked for them in administration. It just seemed natural to take a job with them myself when they had an opening. My folks tried to get me to go back to Houston and start over there after Charlie died. I did for a while, but once I decided to go back to work, I found I could come back here in more or less the same position I’d held before, so I did.” June suddenly realized she was chatting with a former military man as if she felt no bitterness against the army.
“I guess we both must be idealists.”
June had again turned to go but that remark stopped her as quickly as the former one had. “Why do you say that?”
Doug sipped at his coffee. “Anyone who volunteers for this kind of assignment has to be either an idealist or a closet martyr. You don’t strike me as a martyr.”
June hadn’t ever considered herself an idealist. “More like being born with itchy feet. I like doing different things and going to different places.” She was startled when Doug burst out laughing.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “It’s just that you used the exact term to describe my whole family. It’s sort of a joke with us. We’ve always had problems settling down. I guess that’s one reason I went into the military.”
“You don’t look old enough to be retired. Why did you get out?”
“Thanks, but I am retired. Five years ago, but I went in when I was seventeen. Like most teenagers, I didn’t have good sense. I thought fighting a war would be fun and glorious. Couldn’t wait for one to happen. Then when it did and I saw a few bodies, I realized how dumb I’d been.” Doug didn’t mention that his retirement was because of a leg wound that left him unable to march long distances and forced him out of the infantry.
“So why did you stay in?” June found that she was interested despite her vow to have nothing to do with anyone associated with the military from now on.
Doug poured more coffee. “I guess I’m an idealist in the purest sense. Being human, I suppose we’ll always have wars and fighting. As long as it has to happen, why leave it to the ones who enjoy such things? I think the military ought to be made up of soldiers who hate to fight—but who, if it comes to it, do it well.” His gaze wandered away from the present to events existing only in his memory. “It turned out that I was good at my job.” He blinked and realized he was talking too much. “Sorry. Sometimes I keep talking after my mind says to stop.”
June wondered if she should tell him that her husband had been in the National Guard—and died when called to active duty. No, he probably wouldn’t be interested in how she felt about that. In fact, he would probably resent her attitude. Suddenly she felt nervous in his presence. “I’d better be getting back to my gang, We’re still looking over the packets we were given. This was all done in such a hurry, there was no time before we left.”
“Same here, and I’d better be getting back, too. Some of my guys aren’t very well versed in geography. I keep telling them Port Harcourt is in Nigeria, not New England but I’m not sure they believe me. Nice talking to you.” He walked back toward his seat, glad that he had apparently been wrong about her unfriendliness. She was easy to talk to.
June chuckled to herself as she followed Doug back down the narrow aisle between the trucks and jeep and their stacked and tied hand luggage. She had the same problem, too. One of her young male nurses had thought their only stop, Hawaii, was in the Atlantic Ocean. It was a brief one, just enough time for a maintenance check and refueling, then they were back in the air. She had checked her map distances and wondered why they were taking this route, but supposed the military had a reason. They always had a reason, even if it didn’t make sense. Like that helicopter flight… no! Stop it, she told herself. Like the man said, dead is dead. Keep him in a special place in your memory and move on.
The temperature and humidity were stultifying. The atmosphere hit Doug like a wall of heated fog as soon as he stepped off the big cargo plane. Whew! He thought, wearing biosuits in this place will sap our strength quicker than a sauna. “Stay close, guys,” he told his squad as he looked around for their transportation.
Amelia was already talking with the head of the welcoming committee—an-all military one, from the looks of things. As he watched she turned in his direction. “Doug!” she called. “Over here!” He hurried toward her.
“This is Major Mustafa. He’ll be our liaison with the government.”
Doug shook hands with the man. His skin was a rich black color. “Major,” he said.
“And this is Captain Presley. He’s in charge of the military detachment at the hospital. You’ll be reporting to him.”
“Captain, glad to meet you.” His new commander nodded amiably. Surprisingly, he was Caucasian.
Strands of bright red hair peeking from beneath the bill of his cap contrasted with the gray at his temples.
The major pointed. “Your transportation is arriving now. Quarters have been arranged near the hospital, or you may erect tents on the grounds. You will be given every assistance. The situation is rapidly becoming serious. I shall see you again once you’ve been quartered.” He waved a hand as if including everyone in the statement and ran back to his jeep. The driver raced off as soon as he was seated.
In a pinch, they could all have crowded into their jeep or the trucks with their supplies, but using the two buses that the major had pointed to would be far more comfortable. It ferried most of them and their hand baggage to an old two story building only a couple of hundred yards or so from the big hospital, which Doug had learned was the only hospital in Port Harcourt. To be a manufacturing and transportation hub, the city had a surprisingly small population. He rode with Captain Presley in his jeep while Amelia and June rode in their own, driven by Amelia. Bob Handley had been assigned half of Doug’s men to help with unloading and to stay with the trucks at the hospital. Bob would see that the arms and supplies didn’t wander off, he knew. For the time being he and the other men carried only their light weapons.
One thing Doug noticed on their way was that traffic was light; there were few pedestrians and every intersection sported several soldiers and at least one military vehicle, either a jeep, SUV or armored personnel carrier. Had the situation deteriorated that quickly? He hoped not, but then why was the hospital being guarded—or was it just to keep order from too many patients wanting to get inside?
It was the latter, he learned quickly. “See,” Captain Presley said as they neared the area and pedestrians increased in number. “More’re becoming ill every day. Th’re’s only so much room. We’re clearing out the building next t’ your digs for auxiliary wards but t’ey aren’t ready yet.” His accent was a strange mixture of Nigerian, Australian and Scot.
There were also guards around their quarters. Doug wondered whether he should ask for more help from back home. No, it wouldn’t do any good. Once they were airborne after the stop in Hawaii, Amelia had quietly gathered him, June and Bob and told them that she had received an encrypted call from home.
The disease was cropping up in other countries. They would be needing security, too. This fact had already made Doug decide to keep all his men at the hospital during the day and stay with the health workers when they came back to their quarters to sleep. No tents would be erected; he didn’t want to take the time or trouble.
