Page 52 of Stand Fast

David stopped next to her on his way to the door and put a hand on her shoulder. She tensed, barely resisted the urge to wrench away. “We were close,” he murmured, squeezing gently. “Closer than we’ve ever been to him before. That’s something.”

Jaliya didn’t answer. She couldn’t, her throat was too tight.

David released her. “Come on,” he urged, nodding toward the door. “Let’s go get you some tea.”

“No,” she rasped out. “I’m not leaving until I get an update on the wounded.”

He stared at her for a long moment, but when she didn’t budge, patted her on the back once before leaving.

Now it was just her and four men connected to the SF team in the room. “Is there any word on the wounded?” she made herself ask.

The colonel removed his headset slowly and met her gaze. “Yeah. We’re down to just one critical. The two others didn’t survive the flight back to base.”

Jaliya hitched in a breath as pain stabbed through her chest. The floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet for a moment before she turned and shoved the door open, then blindly raced down the brightly-lit hallway.

Chapter Thirteen

Hamilton and Taggart were waiting for him when Zaid stepped out of the O.R. back at Bagram. It had been a long, shitty night, and while he wanted a shower and a hot meal before hitting his bunk, he wanted to see Jaliya more.

If he was right, she’d be blaming herself for what happened, even though it wasn’t her fault, and she hadn’t been the only person involved in the taskforce’s decision to green light the SF team’s op.

“Well?” Taggart said, hands on hips.

Zaid had tended to two of the wounded on the flight back to base, and stayed with them right up until the anesthetist put them under in the operating room. “One will probably lose his lower leg.” He’d done everything he could to stop the soldier from bleeding out during the flight here. But the bullets had shredded the calf and tibia so badly that no orthopedic surgeon would be able to put it back together.

Taggart cursed and shook his head. “And the others?”

“Still in surgery.” He stripped off the bloodstained latex gloves and tossed them into a nearby trashcan, then grabbed a handful of paper towels and started scrubbing at the blood smeared on the front of his uniform. Little good it did him.

“What are their chances?” asked Hamilton.

Giving up on trying to wipe the blood off him, Zaid tossed the paper towels and stripped the fatigue jacket off. “Good. They’re all expected to make a full recovery. We’ll know more in a few hours. Surgeon said he should be done by oh-five-hundred.”

“You go clean up,” Taggart said. “I’ll get an update and pass it on to you if anything happens.”

Zaid inclined his head. “Thanks, I—” He broke off when Jaliya stepped around the corner and paused. Her dark gaze darted between the three of them before settling on him.

She twisted her fingers together, the haunted look on her face twisting his heart. “The third critically wounded. Have you heard anything?”

Ah, shit. Taggart had said she’d been in the TOC the entire time. She’d seen it unfold in real time. He nodded, wishing he could somehow shield her from the truth, or at least soften the blow.

“Is he…”

He really didn’t want to say it in front of Hamilton and Taggart, but he wouldn’t lie to her. “He didn’t make it,” he said gently.

She stared at him for a split second, then her expression turned stricken and she whirled away.

“Jaliya—”

She’d already disappeared around the corner.

“Shit,” he muttered, and started after her.

“Gimme that,” Hamilton said, holding out his hand for Zaid’s bloody uniform jacket. “She doesn’t need to see it.”

Zaid tossed it to him and went after her. She was already halfway across the road when he shoved the front door open. “Jaliya!”

She didn’t stop, didn’t even slow as she held up a hand to ward him off and kept hurrying away.

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