Page 58 of The Story of Danny Rose

Besides, an exercise in survival was a walk in the park in comparison to some of the other fields. Danny was an excellent tracker, hunter, and survivor. Four thousand acres of jungle weren’t going to stop him.

“There will be nothing professional about this reunion,” I said. Sid could consider that his only warning.

He snorted a chuckle and took a swig of his coffee. “I wasn’t expecting that anyway.”

All right, good.

I checked my watch incessantly over the next half hour, and I thought back on when I’d run the course myself. Down was obviously the easy way. That didn’t take more than fifteen minutes. Up, however? In addition, it wasn’t just one mountain followed by flatlands. The foot of this peak led to a small river delta, plenty of thicket, and then things went downhill once more. And the recruits were coming from all the way down—two weeks’ worth of ups and downs, to be accurate. No trails or anything. Just rough terrain all the way.

“Recruit Daniel Rose inbound!” Ben announced.

My head snapped up, my heart fucking pounding, and I automatically strode closer to the tree line approximately fifty feet away.

Moments later, the underbrush rustled, some ferns shook, and my fighter broke through the tree line in an exhausted jog, face flushed and smeared with mud.

My heart jumped up into my throat, and I bolted for him.

Sid handed out orders to Ben. “We’re gonna need fluids and energy, stat.”

“Kiss me before I puke,” Danny panted.

I closed the distance between us, and an urgency I’d never felt before surged through me like wildfire. One part of me wanted to crush him in a hug, while another dove into field-medicine mode. He needed to be lowered to the ground, I had to check him for insect bites and rashes, I had to ask if he’d lost any blood, the last time he ate and drank, if he was dizzy?—

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” I wrapped my arms around him and eased him down till I was on my knees next to him. “You did it, Operator Rose. I’m so bloody fucking proud of you.”

He whimpered and covered his face with his hands. “My heart won’t s-stop racing.”

“You just focus on breathing,” I commanded. At the same time, I started stripping him down. I unbuttoned his top layer, undid his belt, and tugged down his utility pants. Boots off. Mud everywhere. He was soaked all the way through, down to his base layer.

Ben and Sid were quick to assist me, with one taking over the medical eval and the other preparing an IV solution of saline, vitamins, and minerals.

“I did it,” he croaked behind his hands.

I cupped his face and gently removed his muddy paws, and I caught him smiling through an imminent breakdown.

“You did it,” I murmured thickly. Ben extended a flashlight to me, and I accepted it wordlessly and leaned closer to my boy again. “Open your eyes, love.” I shone the light in his eyes, checking the dilation of his pupils, and they became smaller as they should, to my relief. “Have you had fresh water today? Any injuries, open wounds?”

He coughed and managed a nod. “Filtered water around dawn, went through the last before…before I…started climbing. N-no open wounds.” He blew out a breath and winced at whatever Ben and Sid were doing. “My stomach’s cramping—don’t f-fuckin’ sit on it.”

I glanced back, and nobody was putting any pressure on his stomach. Sid was merely checking Danny’s skin for rashes and bites.

“We’ll get you to a bathroom,” I promised. “How’s the nausea?”

He groaned and promptly rolled over to throw up.

“Pulse is slowing down,” Ben said. “No open wounds, his color is good, no rash that we can see.”

I blew out a breath as I held Danny in position, and I gently combed my fingers through his hair.

I’d kiss him silly later.

August 1st, 1999

I watched him with a dumb grin on my face as he sipped his cappuccino and got foam on his upper lip.

“It’s too hard to decide,” he muttered. “On the one hand, this one is closer to the city, but it’s got less space.”

I smiled and wiped his mouth with a napkin first, and he grinned sheepishly.

---