Three Courageous Words

“Seriously, I have to go back. My nurse is there. If the raiders who attacked the government office make it out to the refugee camp, they might take her. So, if you’re not taking me there, at least let me out and I’ll walk.” She moved toward the door and placed her fingers on the handle.

“Hey.” Graham reached out with his injured arm and winced but grabbed her wrist anyway. “You can’t jump out of a moving vehicle.”

“If that’s the only way to get back to the refugee camp, I’ll do it. I won’t leave my nurse to be terrorized, killed or sold into slavery.” She spoke louder. “So if you don’t stop this vehicle now, I’m going to jump.”

Chapter Two (#ulink_b38ca162-107c-5f0c-a716-c224f6f88148)

“Hold your horses. We’ll take you to the camp,” Diesel said. “Just let me get us far enough away from what’s going on downtown.”

“Jump from a moving vehicle?” Buck chuckled, then stopped when he realized Angela hadn’t been kidding. He shook his head. “You’re as stubborn as you always were.”

Angela lifted her chin. “It’s what keeps me going here. My stubbornness got me through medical school and my internship.”

She didn’t say it, but Buck could hear the comment she didn’t make: Unlike you.

Buck felt the cut like a knife to his gut. “I had my reasons for leaving,” he said and ended it there.

“Where’s the refugee camp?” Diesel asked.

Angela turned away from Buck and focused her attention on Diesel. “Southwest of town.”

Using less-traveled streets, Diesel drove the van to the edge of town. Before they left the cover of the buildings for the open landscape, Big Jake glanced back.

“No one behind us for now,” T-Mac confirmed.

Diesel shot out of Bentiu and into the open.

Not far from the town was the beginning of a city of tents and poorly erected shelters made of scrap plywood and tin.

“We can’t drive right into camp,” Big Jake said. “Remember, we’re not supposed to be in this country.”

Angela nodded. “Our tent is on the back side of the camp. There are some buildings past that where you can hide the van and let me off.” She directed Diesel past the camp and a little farther, to where a stand of shanties stood.

Diesel parked behind one that appeared abandoned.

When Angela reached for the door, Buck gripped her wrist. “I’m going with you.”

“There’s no need,” Angela said with her fingers curling around the handle. “I’m not coming back.”

“The hell you aren’t,” Buck said.

“I’m not here to argue. I have to check on my nurse.” She shoved the sliding door open and dropped to the ground. Without waiting, she took off toward the camp at a slow jog.

Buck shot a glance at Big Jake. “I can’t let her go it alone.”

Big Jake jerked his head toward Angela’s departing figure. “Then go. We’ll wait here as long as we’re not discovered.” He tapped the earbud headset. “Stay in touch. I’ll send a couple men out to keep watch for bad guys.”

“I’ll keep you informed.” Buck jumped out of the van and ran to catch up with Angela.

She didn’t slow for him but kept jogging toward her destination. “You didn’t have to follow me,” she said. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Humor me.” He raised a hand to the makeshift bandage on his arm. “Besides, I need you to patch me up better.”

“How do you know I didn’t do a good job?”

“I’m the corpsman, the medic for the team. It’s my professional opinion that you need to clean the wound and apply a fresh bandage to keep it from becoming infected.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Right. You’re a medic. Do it yourself.”

“I can’t perform surgery on myself, now can I?”

She sighed and kept moving. “Fine. It wouldn’t hurt to clean the wound and apply sterile bandages.”

Buck suppressed the smile threatening to spread across his face. He’d scored a very minor victory, but one that would give him a little more time to convince her to leave an extremely volatile area.

As they approached the sprawling camp, they circled around a large white tent to the entry at the front where a canvas sign was tied over the door. The red, white and black lettering stated Médecins Sans Frontières, which translated to Doctors Without Borders.

Buck knew all about this international nongovernmental organization known for humanitarian relief in war-torn or developing countries with little or no medical services available to the general population. He’d hoped one day to be one of the doctors to volunteer his time to help others less fortunate. He’d had lots of dreams when he’d started medical school.

A woman with graying blond hair stepped out of the tent and frowned when she saw Angela and Buck. “I heard an explosion in town. That wasn’t anywhere close to your demonstration, was it?”

Angela’s lips pressed together. “Brenda, we need to prep for stitches. I’ll fill you in on what happened while we’re sewing up this man.”

Brenda smiled at Buck. “Hi, I’m Brenda Sites. And you are?”

“Graham Buckner, but you can call me Buck.” He nodded toward the tent. “We don’t have time for stitches,” Buck said. “A clean pressure bandage will do for now.”

Angela shook her head. “No, we need to close the wound to keep it from getting infected. I can do it in less than five minutes, if you’ll shut up and let me get busy.”

“All right, sweetheart. You don’t have to be so bossy.” Buck’s lips twitched as he followed Angela into the tent, his gaze taking in the neat little hospital complete with a few beds and a separate room for more advanced procedures.

His curiosity always piqued when he was around medical equipment and medicine. More than anything, he wished he’d been able to finish his degree and residency. Alas, his past had caught up with him, and he’d had to leave school or risk exposing the people he cared most about to the murdering, scum-of-the-earth gang members he’d grown up with in Chicago.

He’d left school, Angela and his dreams behind to get away from his past and to get his past away from Angela. He couldn’t regret that. She’d deserved to finish her schooling without being stalked, harassed and potentially harmed by Buck’s old gang members.

The only way Buck had gotten the gang to leave him and Angela alone was to give up his dreams and leave Chicago all together.

“Have a seat.” Angela indicated a folding chair in front of a small field desk.

“Really, we could just clean the wound, bandage it and be done in a lot less time,” Buck said. “If you’ll give me whatever you use to clean with, I can try to do it myself.”

“Didn’t you say you couldn’t perform surgery on yourself?” Angela washed her hands, dried them and pulled on a pair of latex gloves, while her nurse spread out sterile drop cloths across the table, then laid out scissors, gauze, Betadine and tweezers. She used the scissors to remove the makeshift bandage from his arm. Blood oozed from the wound.

Angela inspected it. “See? You need stitches.” She took over after the nurse completed removing the bandage and irrigated the wound with a syringe.

The nurse patted it dry with gauze and applied Betadine to the skin around the wound.

Angela threaded the needle with suture line, her movements quick and efficient. “We’re short on local anesthetics. Hell, we’re out of most medications.” Angela met his gaze with a steady one of her own. “You’ll have to hold very still and grin and bear it.”