Page 1 of Rescuing Baylee

CHAPTER ONE

PREQUEL

2nd Lt. Baylee Mitchell, Afghanistan, July 2012

Baylee hated the fear that flooded her system every time she heard something outside Forward Operating Base Nightshade. There was steady gunfire and the occasional explosion, and her response system was so overwrought. It had been going on for hours. Days. She’d lost track of exactly how long it had been. She just went from surgery to surgery, doing her best to save lives.

After a while, you became numb to the danger you were in the middle of. Afghanistan was rife with angry men with guns, and there were conflicts almost daily right now. But in the past week, US forces, the Marines on their base, had been losing ground. The fighting was getting closer to the base, and her anxiety had ratcheted up until it was at a fever pitch. She tried to present a strong face, especially to the patients, but it was getting harder.

It was especially hard because she knew people came to her in the hopes that she could cheer them up. She had that kind offriendly, welcoming personality. She just didn’t have a lot more cheer in her. This place was hell.

Olivia passed through her line of sight, headed for the scrub station. Baylee followed her, bumping playfully into her hip when she stopped at the sink. Olivia gave her a tired smile, and she realized they were all on edge. Baylee scrounged a smile up for her, but it faded when she saw the tears in her friend’s eyes. “Oh, honey,” she said, drawing Olivia in for a hug. She must have lost another one.

They were both feeling the effects of being on-duty twenty hours a day and feeling like they were losing. It was demoralizing to work so hard for so little reward. The only comfort she took was that she was with her friends. Yes, Olivia was technically her boss, but Baylee knew they were more to each other than that. They were sounding boards and therapists to each other, and they’d promised to never sugar-coat things. “I think we’re in trouble, Liv,” she whispered.

Baylee saw the agreement in Liv’s expression.

The explosion of sound suddenly got louder, and Baylee somehow knew that this one had hit inside the Hesco Bastions.Insidetheir hospital. She ran toward the east, waving dust away from her face. The alarm blared overhead, confirming her fears. She bolted to the recovery tent, the direction of the sound, and stared in horror.

Men, her patients, were burning. The heavy-duty tent was burning around and over them. Moving fast, she ran to the nearest gurney, unlocked the wheels and started pulling it out of the tent, away from the fire. Olivia was right behind her.

“Turn off the oxygen,” Olivia screamed.

Oh, God. They could blow themselves up with all the compressed gasses in here.

Baylee slammed the gurney into the hall, pushing it toward one of the orderlies, then she turned and ran back into therecovery tent. Rex, another nurse, and Olivia were trying to smother the flames on one of the patients. Baylee grabbed another gurney and shoved it through the door, her legs straining.

She’d been so tired before, but now adrenaline was coursing through her veins. They had to save these men.

Olivia was pushing a gurney toward her, but Rex grabbed her arm. “I need help,” he cried, and Liv turned toward him. Oh, shit. One of the Marines were rousing and trying to pull his ventilator tube out. “I’ll take this one,” Baylee told Liv. “You help Rex.”

They got all the men out of the tent and into the hallway and the surgery, but it was packed. Colonel Trent came through and started directing, easing the overflow, but Baylee could see the worry in the man’s eyes. Why was he even here? It was usually the major in here directing the troops. She motioned for Olivia to look at him, and she nodded, her hazel eyes just as worried. “I know,” she murmured.

For two more hours, the assault continued. Baylee cared for her patients as best she could, considering the circumstances. There were no surgeries going on right this minute, but plenty of first aid. They were taking turns breathing for one man, because the ventilators had been damaged in the tent. The Marines were trying to clean one up to get it usable again, but Baylee didn’t have a lot of hope for it.

Then, suddenly, the attack stopped. She looked at Liv, who seemed just as stunned. Rex was pushing a guy in a wheelchair down the hallway, and he stopped, head cocked, as he listened.

This had been a long attack, more than twenty-four hours, and the sudden loss of sound was as off-putting as the attack. But, as the minutes stretched on, she dared to hope that they would have a chance to catch their breath. Or maybe the Talibanhad decided to stop. “Do you think we beat them and they’re giving up?” she asked her friend.

Olivia shook her head. “Doubtful. I have a feeling they’re resupplying troops and reloading.”

Damn. Baylee had hoped for more encouraging words, but Olivia stood by their no sugar-coating rule. She always would. It was one of the many reasons Baylee admired her so much. The tiny woman was a workhorse, and one of the best nurses she’d ever seen work. And she had personal ethics like no one else. Baylee really looked up to and admired her.

It was Liv and one of the surgeon’s turns for a break. Baylee watched them leave the ward, aching with her own tiredness. A few more hours and it would be her turn.

“You doing okay?” Rex asked, hunkering down beside her. She was organizing a mess of instruments that had been scattered in the melee. Once she had them sorted, she would see if she would find a working autoclave to sterilize them. They would need them.

“I’m okay,” she said, pushing some hair behind her ear. It was coming down from the knot. Taking a few seconds, she redid the messy bun. At least it was out of her face now.

Rex must have seen the lie, because he wrapped a thick arm around her shoulders, and they just sat there, sharing touch for a few minutes. It did Baylee’s heart good that he was concerned for her.

Rex was their only male nurse, and the third part of their friend group, and he kicked ass. They called him a lot if the patient was being difficult, or they needed to move one. He was always ready to help.

Baylee had seen his personality shrinking, though. The constant barrage was hard on them all, but it really seemed to affect Rex.

They were all going to need therapy when they got out of this fucking country.

The cease-fire held for a few hours, long enough that Baylee could take a bit of a break from caring for patients. She sank against a wall and tilted her head back, falling into a weird, alert doze.

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