“I have gone over all of the reports, Second Lieutenant, and it seems to me that you are quite possibly the fittest and strongest you’ve ever been. At least, physically. The psych report has highlighted some concerns.” He lifted his head. “Nothing damning, mind. She was concerned about you still having flashbacks and nightmares.”
“To be expected,” Damien added. Carter flashed him an annoyed glance.
“Did she talk to you about PTSD?”
“Yes, Sir, and I accept her diagnosis.”
He smiled wryly. “Accept it or don’t, it’s here in black and white. She’s recommending further sessions.”
Abi sighed internally. “Understood.”
“What? No witty retort, Winter? You’ve been full of them this week, or so I hear.”
Oops.“No excuses, Sir.”
He chuckled, then sobered. “As for the physical injuries you sustained in Kandahar, the specialist has grave concerns for your welfare. Two pieces of shrapnel lie close to the femoral artery. They could dislodge at any given moment and cause an internal bleed. You’d never know until it was too late. The risk of surgery has been deemed too great, meaning they stay. How do I, in all good conscience, give you control of an aircraft in that state? You could crash and take out an entire platoon.”
Beside her, Damien bristled. Abi laid a hand on his forearm and felt him settle. “That’s an assessment you have to make, Sir. I think my feelings on the matter are very clear. I want to resume my role as pilot but I also don’t want to cause such an accident. My reinstatement is in your hands.”
Closing the folder, Carter tossed it on his desk and leaned a hip on the great wooden desk. He sighed and shook his head, looking at each of them in turn. When his focus settled back on Abi, she felt like she knew what he was about to say.
“Have you considered any other roles you might take up here on base? You could retrain in logistics and tactics. You could still serve your country.”
“Sir, I was born to fly. Keeping me cooped up in a command center wouldn’t work and, with all due respect, I don’t believe I have the combat experience to take a leading role in either logistics or tactics.”
“If it helps,” Damien butted in. “She’s been flying just fine over summer.”
“Oh?”
“Our town has recently purchased a new waterbomber helicopter to fight fires. Abi was the first to fly it, and she’s learned how to operate the bucket. She can drop it into a backyard pool and dump its load with precision. She is an excellent pilot and you’d be crazy to—”
The sound of his phone cut him off. Damien threw her an apologetic glance as he took out the device and checked the caller ID.
“I’m sorry. I have to take this. Please excuse me.”
Abi turned to Penny as he left the office. “Everything’s okay with Stevie, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sweetie. Your sister is fine.” She looked nervously to Carter before adding, “A fire has broken out south of the Crossing. It’s in remote bushland and gaining strength.”
Why were they here? Damien needed to be there to fly the chopper in her place. “South of the Crossing? Which way is it headed?”
“Northerly winds are pushing it toward Bourke’s Ridge but they’re expecting the wind to shift ahead of a cool change. That’ll probably be Hollywood calling your father with an update.”
If the wind shifted to push the fire north, it would threaten Wills Crossing and the realization hit Abi straight in the guts.
Home.
She’d finally found it and now it was under threat. Fear gathered behind her sternum. So many people in danger. Hollywood. Damien’s Shadow Soldiers. Her sister.
“I’ll just go see if everything’s alright.” Penny left.
Ray.
The blood drained from her head and made her feel dizzy. Carter rushed to her side and helped her into a chair. He stepped away and returned with a plastic cup of water.
“Here.”
Abi sipped the cool water. The last few months flashed before her eyes and with each image, came an array of emotions. The shock of finding Damien; the hope that meeting her sister had brought; the fierce protectiveness she felt toward Max and Millie and Bruce; the love she had for Ray.