Page 12 of The Woman Left Behind

Nine months? That couldn’t be right. She’d gone home for Christmas, and now it was... she looked at her phone.September.Damn, how had that happened? She’d started training in June, and now three months were down the drain. “It’s a six-month training program,” she said, “but it can be extended if some new technology or programs come on board.” All that was true, except for the six-month part. She lived for the time she spent on the computer learning more about the drone and honing her skills, not least because that got her out of the physical torture crap that they called PT. The truth was, though, the training period would last as long as it needed to last, because no way would any of them be allowed out in the field until they were ready.

“Can’t you get some vacation time when Jordan and Emily’s baby is due? We all want you here.”

“It’s doubtful,” Jina replied, doing some quick math in her head. “It’s due in November, right? I’ll still be in training.”

“But you’re due some vacation time. Surely you can pick up with the training when you get back.” That was her mom, family came first regardless, and as persistent as a snapping turtle.

“Surely I can lose my job,” Jina said drily. “There’s no vacation time during training, short of a death in the family, and let’s not go there.”

“That isn’t right.”

“I knew the terms when I signed up. Do you want me to be a quitter?” The whole family knew that calling her a quitter was the one thing that would make her dig her heels in deeper.

“No, but I do want to see you more than once a year. We might plan a trip up there, since you can’t come down here.”

“That’d be great,” Jina said, though she fought back a surge of panic at the idea of her parents seeing the shape she was in when she dragged herself home at the end of the day. There was no way she could convince them that the sweat, dirt, and bruises were the result of any computer training. “Just remember I get only one day off, and I’m in training at least ten hours a day. You and Daddy would be on your own most of the time, though that would be a great time to explore all the museums and historical buildings.” She’d love to see them, no matter what shape she was in. She’d have to ask some of the married team members how they handled family stuff. There couldn’t be complete secrecy, that would never work, especially when the teams were out in the field for days, weeks at a time.

“I don’t know,” her mom said doubtfully, which likely meant they weren’t going to show up on her doorstep any time soon. “Are you sure you’ll be happy with a job that takes so much of your time?”

“It’s really interesting,” Jina said. “It’s intense, but I’m learning a lot. And even if I don’t stay in this job for longer than a few years, the training will stay with me forever.” All that was true, and getting more true by the day. She loved working with the drone—or at least the drone simulator. None of them had seen the real deal yet, but maybe soon. She couldn’t wait. Though she’d have sworn on the first day that being assigned to the GO-Teams was the last thing she wanted, and though she still hated every minute of the physical conditioning... she was beginning to feel at home with it all.

Damn it.

Five

They took a water break; chugging water was so important that they stopped even more than she would have thought necessary. Jina dropped to the grass, twisted the top off her water bottle, and chugged half of it at one go. Levi sat down beside her and said, “Hold out your hand.”

She paused with the water bottle still to her mouth and gave him a narrow, sideways look. “Why?” she asked suspiciously, scowling at him. She’d been through this routine before. Two brothers had taught her to never trust that what they put in her hand would be anything she wanted; it had almost always been something gross, like a dead mouse or fake poop. One memorable time the poop hadn’t been fake. Jordan and Taz had both got in trouble for that. Not only were those memories still sharp, but she figured any time Levi gave her his direct attention something was up, and she never liked it.

His gaze was cold and exasperated. “Are you going to question every order you’re given?”

His tone was a warning, loud and clear; she had to trust them, and if she didn’t, that was a big hurdle. Stopping to second-guess team members who actually knew what they were doing could get someone killed.

“Are you going to put a rat in my hand?” Around her, she heard the other guys start snickering, but she didn’t look at them. Never take your gaze off the enemy, and maybe Levi wasn’t exactly her enemy, but neither was he her friend. The philosophy held good for her.

Levi didn’t think it was funny. “I don’t waste my time with juvenile stunts.”

Or anything resembling a sense of humor, either. Warily, ready to jerk her hand back at the least touch of anything furry or icky, she held out her hand. Palm down.

He made a frustrated growling sound deep in his throat, seized her hand, and turned it over. She had a sharp impression of heat, strength, a calloused palm, then he slapped something metal into her palm and dropped her hand. She blew out a mental sigh of relief. Thank God, it was metal, though she supposed he wasn’t about to waste time with a dead mouse.

She looked down. The thing was about the size of an M67 grenade, and she was proud of herself for knowing that. She was also astonished at herself, for the same reason. What she was holding was army green and had a clam shell covering. It was a compass. “It’s a compass,” she said, then curled her lip at him. “What do I want with a compass? I have my phone. My phone even has someone inside it who talks to me and tells me when and in what direction to turn. I don’t need no stinkin’ compass.” Computers. She was comfortable with computers. Compasses were... kind of rudimentary. Never mind that Columbus and thousands of others had sailed the ocean blue with nothing but a compass, and an astrolabe or two. Hey, she could put that to music:

Columbus sailed the ocean blue,

With nothing but a compass

And an astrolabe or two.

She even sang it for them, though the tune wasn’t noteworthy.

The other guys were outright laughing now, but Levi’s expression said he didn’t find either her song or her reasoning very funny. “You need a stinkin’ compass when there’s no cell service, or when you have to take the battery out of your phone so you can’t be tracked.”

“What will I be doing that I need a compass?” That was the main point, and one that alarmed her.

“Never can tell,” Trapper put in. “We never know where we might get sent. We all have one.”

Okay, there was that. It just felt discordant; what she would be doing with the team was high tech, so suddenly being forced to rely on a compass to get her to wherever she was supposed to be likely meant that everything had gone to hell in a handbasket—a situation she hoped never happened. She wasn’t equipped to handle hell, whether it was in a handbasket or not.

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