Close Quarters (2 page)

“Well, I do.” Colonel Idiot jumped up from his chair, turning to face Roman full on for the first time. “It's my people doing the training over there and I've got some ideas on how to handle this mission.”

Roman flicked a glance to the man on his left. His expression was blank, but it wasn't too hard to believe he wasn't any more impressed with Colonel Idiot's posturing than Roman was. “What's your pony in this race?” Roman asked him.

“I consulted on the JCAT, the voice of experience from real battle.” He grimaced. “It's a powerful training tool. We'd be royally screwed right up the ass if it landed in certain hands.”

Roman nodded. That he understood. Oh, he understood Colonel Idiot too. C.Y.A. was a strong motivator, but it didn't inspire any sort of respect in Roman.

Accordingly, he made no effort to mask his contempt when he replied to the colonel's remarks. “Those ideas would be welcome if your people were doing the mission. They're not. I am and I'm not interested. If your command is responsible for the training going on, then they're also responsible for the compromised intelligence.”

“That's not the way it is,” the other man spluttered.

But Roman wasn't listening as he headed for the door. The brass never thought they were responsible, but nine times out of ten they were. Roman knew it, being team lead himself. It didn't matter how many bars or stars you wore on your uniform. The fact was, when men or situations under your authority got compromised, you held ultimate responsibility.

And he had no respect for a man who didn't see that.

 

The buzz of excited chatter outside the medic hut pulled Tanya Ruston's attention from the inventory report she'd been working on in the small office off the main exam room.

“What's going on?” she asked the Tutsi woman sitting at the other desk.

Dr. Fleur Andikan looked up from her own patient reports. “Good question. The man from your country's government is not supposed to arrive for another two days.” The sound of jeeps approaching in the distance came in faintly through the open window.

“Surprising the mine owners with an early visit might be his way of attempting to get a truer read of what is going on in the mine.”

“Do you believe the man really cares if human rights violations are happening?” Fleur's tone implied she didn't.

Of course, Fleur had more reason than most to doubt the genuine concern of any government official. She'd been an innocent teenage girl during the Tutsi massacres in Rwanda, surviving only through blind luck and ingenuity. She had not come out of it unscathed, though. Her years living with distant family in Nigeria, attending university and medical school, had not undone the trauma of her final months in Rwanda.

No matter how much Fleur wanted others to believe she was untouched by her past and untouchable by the present, Tanya saw the haunted darkness in the doctor's eyes.

“You don't think it's the corporate guys from Sympa-Med, do you?”

Fleur rolled her eyes. “They were quite unhappy your team missed the final stop on your last tour, but I do not think they would show up here to make their displeasure known.”

“They take their schedules way too seriously.” The powers that be ran the medical relief agency a lot like a corporation, with rigidly scheduled routes for the traveling clinic and mandates regarding what type of medicine she and Fleur were allowed to practice.

Fortunately, Fleur was fully prepared to treat outside their mandate when the case warranted it.

She wasn't as flexible on the schedule and routes for the traveling clinic. “They have their reasons for the schedules and routes we take. If Sympa-Med offends a village elder by not showing up when promised, he might well refuse to allow us access on the next trip through.”

“That's so stupid.” But Tanya knew Fleur was right. “It couldn't be helped anyway. We got slammed with that outbreak at the last stop we managed. One of our own team came down with it and we were out of medical supplies. If we hadn't returned, we would have lost him.”

“I am aware.”

“But you still think I should have managed to stop by the village?”

“You could have sent the rest of the team on and made a visit on your own. The jeep could have been sent back for you.”

“Travel without security or supplies?” Tanya jerked her head in a negative.

She cared about the people she served, but she wasn't putting herself at that level of risk just to keep some egotistical village official happy. “Maybe it's Ibeamaka, come courting again.”

“Speculation, while pleasant, is a waste of time.” The regal African woman stood, her expression showing how little true pleasure she felt at the prospect of a visit from the pompous government official. “I suppose we should find out.”

“It beats paperwork.”

“You and your dislike of paperwork. It is a good thing you did not go to medical school.” Fleur shook her head.

“I didn't want to wait eight years to come back to where I was needed.”

Fleur nodded. “And you would have hated all the papers and written tests necessary to pass.”

“Two years training as an EMT was bad enough,” Tanya had to agree. She had not enjoyed school, which neither of her parents had understood.

Her brother hadn't understood either, but he had supported her choice to enter the Peace Corps right out of high school.

“I have known few others as intelligent as you who had so little use for traditional education.”

Tanya shrugged. “What can I say? I live to disappoint my parents.”

“I know that is not true.”

“Trust me—I'm a complete disappointment to them.” They'd been upset when her older brother chose to pursue science rather than a more lucrative career as a professional football player. However, that was nothing in comparison to how ballistic her mom and dad had gone when Tanya decided to forego university altogether.

They hadn't been any happier when she'd returned stateside to do her EMT training only as preparation for returning to Africa. The soil reclamation project she'd worked on in the Peace Corps was important, but Tanya hadn't been able to get over the desperate need for medical care almost everywhere she went.

So, she'd decided to get EMT training and come back. She'd never regretted that decision. The work they did in Zimbabwe and the surrounding countries was not only rewarding, it was absolutely necessary.

“I do believe they did not approve or understand your choices,” Fleur said, “but I do
not
believe you enjoyed disappointing them.”

“You know me too well.” It still hurt that her parents had never once acknowledged she might be doing something good here.

Fleur looked surprised by the comment. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

Tanya knew that a big part of the other woman's reserved nature was due to her Tutsi heritage. She'd been raised to always comport herself with dignity, to express very little emotion, and to believe she had a responsibility not to squander the privilege she'd been born to. The fact that her heritage had caused her to be the target of a vicious genocidal force had not erased her sense of duty.

She was an amazing doctor and could have worked in any of the big hospitals, or even left Africa for more stable and profitable climes. Instead, she'd taken the directing doctor's position for Sympa-Med's southern Africa medical relief team.

Fleur was one of the few people in Tanya's life who actually understood her reasons for coming back to Africa as a medical relief worker after her stint in the Peace Corps was through.

They were two women from very different backgrounds who were very alike. Tanya had been raised to stifle her emotions as well, though the lessons had not taken like they had with Fleur. Though she hadn't been raised to believe she had a responsibility to those less fortunate, she had been taught to appreciate the opportunities offered to her.

The fact that that appreciation had led her to want to use those opportunities to better the lives of people half a world away hadn't gone over well with her parents. She imagined that Fleur's parents would not have liked her career path any more, had they survived the Tutsi slaughter in Rwanda.

Ultimately, Fleur and Tanya had made the same choices. And from what Tanya could tell, Fleur did not regret hers either.

When they came out of the medical hut, there were two unfamiliar, military-looking jeeps parked in front. There were eight men, six clearly military, one just as obviously the State Department auditor and the other a not unfamiliar local government official.

Tanya couldn't help grimacing as her eyes fell on the local official. If anyone had an interest in glossing over human rights violations in the local mines, it was Ibeamaka. Unlike Fleur, Tanya did not believe that all government officials were corrupt, but this one certainly was. And he had an over-the-top, if unrequited, crush on Fleur.

With the self-important walk of a man who craved power, but really wasn't all that important, he approached Fleur. “Dr. Andikan, these men are from the United States government.”

Tanya noticed the official's use of the less polite
men
rather than
gentlemen
. In addition, the man spoke Shona rather than English. Petty. She rolled her eyes, and then had to stifle a smile as Fleur neatly avoided shaking hands with the political wannabe.

As she nodded in her usual dignified manner, the blue-and-white turban she wore moved just enough to signify respect, but not enough to imply obeisance. “Mr. Ibeamaka. It was good of you to escort them to our compound. We were told to expect them in two days.”

“Yes, well, they were on a military flight and arrived early.” He didn't sound any happier about it than he looked. “This is Bennet Vincent, an official from the State Department and his personal security team.”

Ibeamaka didn't look any more pleased that the man had arrived with his own security than he did that Bennet Vincent had arrived early.

“Call me Ben,” the investigator said as he put his hand out to Fleur.

She shook it while Ibeamaka looked on with a disapproving frown. “Dr. Andikan.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you. I enjoy your blog.” Tanya was happy to see that Ben wasn't put off by Fleur's reserve, his mouth curving into a warm smile. “I'm impressed with what you are doing here.”

Fleur jolted as if startled. Whether it was from the man's hand, which had yet to let go of hers, or his words, Tanya could not tell. “I can only update the blog infrequently.”

“I know. I'm a subscriber so I get notified whenever you make a new post.”

“Oh, well…that's nice to know.” Fleur didn't sound like she was sure she meant it and she tugged her hand out of Ben's. “Let me introduce my colleague, Tanya Ruston.”

“It's a pleasure.” He put his hand out to Tanya, squeezing her fingers in a friendly gesture rather than shaking her hand. “Dr. Andikan has written glowingly about you on her blog.”

“I didn't know that.” Tanya had never read the blog that Fleur updated whenever she had Internet access, usually only when she was in Harare on a supply pickup.

Fleur said it was important that the news out of Africa was not limited to official government channels.

“She's very impressed with you.”

Tanya stared at her boss. “Thank you. The feeling is mutual.”

Fleur nodded, giving Ben a disgruntled look. “Tanya does not read my blog.”

“She should.”

Fleur frowned. “Mr. Vincent.”

“Ben, please.”

“Ben…” Fleur paused, as if trying to gather her thoughts. Finally, she shook her head and said, “You and your security force will be staying in an empty chalet on the east side of the compound.”

Tanya let her gaze travel over the American soldiers while Fleur pointed out the three-room hut that they often used to house Zimbabweans displaced by the eighty-percent unemployment rate and the recent, government-sponsored de-urbanization programs.

While two of the men looked younger than the others, not one of the soldiers appeared fresh faced or anything approaching naïve. These were seasoned warriors, even now hyper aware of their environment and any trouble they might find there. The two youngest soldiers had Marine uniforms. The others wore state-of-the-art camouflage, but no badges or epaulettes had been sewn onto their clothes to indicate which branch of the military they hailed from, or their rank. One sported a Marine high-and-tight, but the others had the short buzz cuts usually found in the other branches of the armed services.

As her gaze landed on the man to the farthest left, the one who wore the mantle of leadership, if not the insignia, her breath escaped in a loud gasp.

“Tanna?” Fleur asked, slipping into the local pronunciation of Tanya's name, concern evident in the doctor's voice, if not her carefully neutral expression.

Tanya could not answer. She was too busy staring. “Roman?” The question came out in an embarrassingly squeaky croak. “Is that you?”

“You know the civilian, Geronimo?” the big soldier with the high-and-tight asked.

Roman…Geronimo nodded.

So, it
was
Roman. Here. In southern Zimbabwe, as far out of the lab as a man could get. Leading a team of soldiers providing security for a State Department official. It didn't make any sense. He'd run the security at Elle and Beau's wedding, but it had been Tanya's understanding that the Special Forces soldiers Beau had pulled in to help had been friends, not colleagues.

Unless his family had been lying to her, that was their understanding too.

“I thought you were an Army scientist.” According to Elle, he was every bit as brilliant as Tanya's brother, Beau. Why would Roman Chernichenko be in Africa on a security detail? When he didn't reply, simply staring at her, she turned to the other man who had spoken. “Why did you call him Geronimo? He's Ukrainian, not Native American.”