32

The Vicar

Harris heard a noise behind him and turned to see a woman in uniform make her way down to the lectern and test the microphone. He looked at his watch. 09:40. He stood and headed out the door into the autumn sunshine of Fort Centralis to await his soldiers. Within minutes, Doc, Brown and Packham arrived. Harris greeted them with a nod.

“Morning, captain,” Doc said.

He eyed Doc and Brown carefully. “How many drinks you have last night?”

“We left The Vicar after two, captain,” Doc answered, looking him in the eye, then quickly averting his glance.

Harris arched his eyebrow, scanning his lieutenant’s face. Doc looked back at him and held his stare. Harris was satisfied. He believed him. He looked over at Packham and studied her next. He considered speaking with her now about her future on the Aurora, but he suddenly noticed some of the relatives of his dead soldiers begin to arrive.

“Excuse me,” he told his crew, as he made his way toward them.

*

Carrie entered the Service Hall and immediately saw the four coffins lined along an elevated platform, each draped with their country of origin’s flag. She swiftly turned her eyes away from the stark stab of reality, and scanned the people in the room. Other than the Aurora crew and a few other UNF personnel, there was a sprinkling of civilians, who, she assumed, were the relatives of the dead. Seeing them sent another stab through her chest, as she thought of her father having to do this.

She glanced around for Doc and saw him talking with an attractive blond woman. His hand was on her shoulder, comforting her. Carrie wondered who she belonged to. Smith? A sister maybe?

Packham and Brown were already seated in one of the rows, so Carrie joined Colt in making their way down to them.

“Miss Colt,” Brown said, standing up to help her in beside him.

“How you doing, Mr Brown?” she asked quietly.

“I been better,” he said flatly.

Carrie joined Hunter in the row behind, and looked around for the others. McKinley, on his crutches, made his way over to Doc and the blond woman, who turned and immediately hugged McKinley and began to quietly cry. McKinley looked awkwardly at Doc, not quite sure what to do, as he tried to stand on his crutches and hug the crying woman at the same time. Doc gently encouraged her to let McKinley go, taking her by the shoulders and sitting her down in one of the rows. As McKinley sat down beside her, Doc rested his crutches at the end of the row, and glanced around the room. His eyes fell on Carrie’s and he gave her a subtle nod. His face was soft, but his eyes intense. She gave him a subtle nod back, trying to fight off thoughts of their evening together.

They sat in silence while the remainder of those gathered took their seats. Carrie scoured the faces of those she did not know. There was a balding, stocky man with a serious face; a large dark-skinned woman with a look of anger in her eyes; the attractive blond, and a couple of other UNF soldiers in uniform. She then spotted Senior Officer Edgely’s face in the crowd, staring at her. He gave a slight nod. She nodded in response, then suddenly looked down into her lap, as a thought occurred to her. Was Edgely the friendly face her father had organized? She looked back over at him, but he’d turned his eyes away.

Doc and Harris took a seat in the front row, and a UNF soldier she’d not seen before took to the lectern. He introduced himself as Major Babcock, and advised those gathered that it was his duty to preside over the brief ceremony today. He opened with a traditional spiel about how it was a sad day to have to farewell good soldiers who had perished in the line of duty. He went on to say how the UNF felt the loss deeply, how those gathered would feel it tenfold, and how soldiers put their life on the line for mankind every single day. He hit the right notes, talking about how they helped those in need, those in trouble, and that they helped to capture those who threatened everything we hold dear: our way of life, our freedom, our safety. Finally, he announced that the UNF was officially releasing the bodies of these four heroic soldiers back into the custody of their loved ones, so that they could go home and rest in peace. He then asked those gathered to take a moment to remember the fallen, after which one of the uniformed soldiers stood and began to play an emotional, soulful tune on a trumpet.

The song filled the silence in the hall with a loneliness and sadness that made Carrie’s heart feel heavy. When the song came to a close, the major nodded to two of the other soldiers in the crowd, who stood and proceeded to march over to Bolkov’s coffin, positioning themselves one each side.

Harris stood and joined Babcock on the podium. Carrie listened as the major gave a brief speech about each of the fallen, and then she watched as the two unknown soldiers folded the relevant flag, and marched it over to Harris. She felt sorry for the captain, who then had the unenviable task of handing the flag to the dead soldier’s relative and saluting them.

The service didn’t appear to be following seniority as Bolkov was the first “released”. The flag of the Russian Federation was handed over to his brother Pieter. The stocky, balding man stood, face rigid, and walked over to Harris. He looked a little similar to Bolkov in the face, with his five o’clock shadow, but although he was stocky, he was a much shorter, smaller version of his brother. Harris handed him the flag and saluted. Bolkov’s brother showed no emotion, much like Bolkov himself. He looked at Harris, then returned to his seat, avoiding eye contact with everyone else in the room.

Next they released Louis. The two soldiers folded the French flag and marched it over to Harris, who awaited Louis’s mother; Patrice-Marie Louis. The dark skinned woman stood, holding herself straight and moved over to Harris. As he handed her the flag and saluted, she held her head high and defiant, staring Harris in the eye. She turned around and flashed the same defiant look at the Aurora team, then walked over to her son’s coffin. She picked up Louis’s framed picture and held it tightly against her chest, as she rested her free hand on the wood for a moment, then bent down, kissed it and returned to her seat, taking the photo with her.

Carter was the one they released next, and Carrie was shocked when the major announced that his fiancée had come to collect his body. She’d had no idea Carter was engaged to be married. He’d hidden it well with all his talk. She watched, stunned, as the attractive blond stood shakily with the help of McKinley’s arm. She walked over to Harris and accepted the South African flag. As the captain saluted her, she began to cry again, shooting out her hand to hold onto Harris’s shirt. The captain darted his eyes over her shoulder to Doc, who stood and gently ushered her back to her seat.

At that point Carrie felt a lump begin to grow in her throat. It was harder than she thought it was going to be. To see one brother say goodbye to another, a mother say goodbye to her son and a fiancée say goodbye to her future … she looked around the room and tried to see who was there for Smith.

Again, Carrie was shocked when the major announced that Captain Harris had been nominated at Smith’s next of kin. She glanced around the room in disbelief, then back at the stage and saw the British flag presented to Harris. He saluted the soldier who gave it to him. No-one had come to claim Smith’s body. He’d had no-one but his ship’s captain. She felt her eyes well up with tears, as she looked at Smith’s picture on his coffin. Her vision blurred, and she quickly blinked it clear, as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away, as Hunter glanced over at her, stony faced.

Major Babcock proceeded to launch into his closing speech, then. He talked of thoughts and prayers going out to the families of the deceased, as well as to those injured and recovering from their mission. He left the podium and walked to Harris and shook his hand, and people began to stir. Carrie watched as Doc stood and shook the major’s hand as well. Her eyes drifted past them and onto the picture of Smith again, and then onto Carter’s and Bolkov’s, which caused another tear to roll down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, locking eyes with Doc as she did.

Hunter glanced over at her again, and motioned with his head for her to get up. “C’mon, let me out of here.”

She walked out into the Centralis sunshine to wait for the others. It was a beautiful day with clear blue skies and a gentle breeze that brought with it the smell of the ocean. She thought of how it was the stark opposite to the cold, dark of space, and couldn’t help but think about how those four soldiers would never get to see this again. She suddenly thought of Edgely again and began to scan her eyes over the gathered crowd, seeking him, wanting to know more. But he was nowhere to be found.

*

Harris noted that the Aurora team waited outside until the families had left. It was respectful of them. It had been hard speaking to the relatives, looking them in the eye, knowing that this shouldn’t have happened, and worse still being unable to give them any details about their loved one’s death, but he knew it had to be done. He had to keep up appearances for the UNF’s sake, and the Aurora’s.

He got very little out of Bolkov’s brother. He was even more silent than Bulk himself, but he did get a nod and brief look in the eye. It was acknowledgment enough.

Louis’s mother had been quite vocal. She was a proud woman, protective of her son, and she’d been very blunt, stating that this should not have happened to him, how Louis had deserved better. Harris could only agree with her. She made it clear that she did not blame him, but that she would never forgive the UNF for this. He understood her anger, he felt it himself.

Carter’s fiancée was not angry. She hadn’t reached that stage yet. She was still caught in the devastation. Harris had spoken with her briefly and passed on his condolences, and she managed to hold it together until Doc had approached them. Harris thought it best to leave her in the care of Doc and McKinley, who both knew her a little better. There had been times over the last year or so, when they’d caught up with Carter outside the ship on leave. So they were better placed to provide her with the support she needed to get through the service.

Although this was not something he ever looked forward to, speaking with relatives after their loved ones had been killed or injured, he had been saddened by the fact that there was no-one to represent Smith. When he’d been informed that morning that Smith had put him down as his N.O.K. (next of kin) nominee, he was surprised, but also touched. Smith deserved to have someone claim his body, and if that someone had to be Saul Harris, then he was more than prepared to step up and take care of him the way he deserved to be. He owed the kid at least that much, and silently vowed to see him right.

He rubbed his hand along his jaw and observed what was left of his team, as they stood scattered outside the Service Hall. They were bruised, they were battered, but they still had a whole lot of potential. He knew what he needed to do now, more than anything, was keep hold of the ones he had left.

It was time to glue the pieces back together.

*

Harris told the team to rendezvous at The Vicar by 1400, and it arrived quickly. By the time he’d left Command with Smith’s ashes, made it across town to his apartment and grabbed a bite to eat, it was then time to get into his civilian clothes. He placed the ashes and British flag on the coffee table in his living room. He wasn’t sure where else to put them for now. He sat there looking at them, holding the silver urn in his hands for a moment, staring at his own reflection. He sighed and put it back down. I’ll be back later, Smith.

The first to arrive at The Vicar, he immediately set up a bar tab, and took a seat in the back corner. While he waited for the others, his mind ran over the service, ran over the debrief, and ran over his conversation with Colt. He knew he had to find time alone with both Packham and Welles this evening, before they disappeared on leave. He was halfway through his first drink when, Doc, Brown and Packham arrived.

Harris held up his beer and pointed at the bar. Doc nodded and led them over to place their order, and as soon as their drinks came, Harris requested a private word with Packham. She looked a little nervous, but nodded and followed him around to the front bar, leaving Doc and Brown curious, as they watched them walk away.

Harris leaned against the bar, front on, placed his drink down and looked over at Packham. She stood quietly, sipping her beer, waiting for him to speak. She’s the opposite of Welles, he thought.

“I wanted to have a word with you, sergeant, about your plans for the future. Have you had any thoughts about what you want to do?”

Packham looked a little surprised. “Er, no, sir. I’ve just been trying to get through these past few days.”

Harris nodded, “I hear that!” He took a swig of his beer and placed it back down. “Well, as you know, the Darwin mission was only a test case, but there is opportunity for a permanent position, so I’d like to offer it to you, sergeant.”

Packham again looked surprised. “Er, wow.”

He gave a sad smile. “It’s an unfortunate circumstance, but I need a new co-pilot. You’re more than qualified. That would be the position you’d be taking. Are you up for it?”

She looked down at her beer, thinking, and he eyed her carefully.

“You don’t have to answer me now, sergeant. You’ve got a few weeks to think about it if you need. I wouldn’t blame you if you said no, given what happened. But just remember that we weren’t charged with anything. Whatever reservations you might have, know that you can trust me. You can trust the Aurora team. It’s a shame this was your first mission with us. But that said, it should be the worst you’ll see, and I mean the worst.” He watched as she kept looking down at her beer, avoiding eye contact. He turned his body to face her. “Is there anything you want to ask me, Sarah?” he asked. It was obvious something was on her mind. He used her first name as a means of leveling the field and trying to make himself more approachable.

She looked up at him. “I … I guess I’m just a little surprised, captain,” she said.

“Why’s that?”

She hesitated a moment, then looked him in the eye. “I was a coward … on the ship. You all wanted to go back on the Darwin and I wanted to stay on the Aurora. I freaked out. I … I just—”

“—wanted to make it home,” he finished her sentence. He looked her in the eye. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting that, Sarah. The word coward is a little harsh. You got spooked. It happens to all of us. But at the end of the day, you’re the one that got us out of there, so don’t sell yourself short. You came through for us in the debrief, too. They tried damn hard to break you, harder than any of us, but you held strong. That wouldn’t have been easy. Sometimes we’re strong in one field and weak in another. That’s why we work in teams; to help each other out, to balance out those strengths and weaknesses. You were unsure on the Darwin. But what doesn’t break you, makes you stronger, right?”

She nodded, giving him a small smile, and he noticed the delicate features on her face seemed to lighten up somewhat. He nodded back at her and grabbed his beer.

“I do understand if you’d prefer to go back to flying the cargo ships, though.”

“I don’t know, captain,” she said, playing with the label on her beer.

He took another swig of his drink. “Well, I guess that’s something you’re going to have to figure out. What it is that you want.” He studied her for a moment while she seemed to think about it. “C’mon, let’s head back to the others. You think about it and I’ll call you in a few weeks for your answer.” With that, he pushed off the bar and began to head back to the others, worried how Colt and Packham would cope on their own without the Aurora looking out for them.

“Captain?” she called after him.

He turned around to her.

She looked him firmly in the eye. “I’m in.”

He stared at her. “Yeah? You don’t want to take a few weeks to think about this? You’re sure?”

“Yes, sir. You didn’t let them take us. You defended us. That’s the kind of team I want to be in, sir. A team who has my back. I don’t think I could trust any other now … so, if you’ll have me, I’m in.”

He smiled as he walked up to her and held out his hand for her to shake. “Welcome to the Aurora, sergeant.”

She broke into a smile and shook his hand. “Thank you, captain.”

*

Carrie entered The Vicar dead on 1400, but it appeared as though she was the last to arrive. Brown told her there was a tab at the bar, so she got herself a drink and made her way to the Aurora tables. She took a seat beside McKinley, who stared at her with his poker face. His piercing blue eyes seemed to twinkle back at hers, the blue of his shirt catching the color just right.

“Do you ever play nice, McKinley?” she asked directly, staring back at him.

He shrugged nonchalantly, caressing his jaw, the silver band around his wrist shining next to the woven leather one. “Sometimes.”

“So, you can play nice, then?”

A smile broke his face, teeth and all. She noticed that he actually had a nice smile when he let one escape.

“You’re just so easy to rile up, Welles,” he told her, smile firmly in place. “Stop making it so much fun for me.”

“Yeah, well, don’t you forget who saved your ass. Next time I might miss,” she said, with a satisfied look.

His face clouded a moment. “Yeah, you got me there.”

Carrie almost felt bad for a moment as she looked at his sombre face. He lifted his beer and held it out to clink with hers. She did so.

“I still want a rematch on the shooting range, though,” he said, his eyes smiling at hers now.

Carrie grinned. “Bring it on, cowboy!”

He let out a short, sharp laugh, before going serious again. “How’s the head?” he asked motioning to her bruises.

Carrie touched the side of her face. “It looks worse than it feels.”

She suddenly looked across the table and saw Harris trying to get her attention.

“A word?” he mouthed, pointing over to the bar.

She suddenly felt a little nervous. What does he want? She nodded and stood, Doc and the others glancing at them, as she followed Harris to the front bar of The Vicar.

“How’re you healing, corporal?” he asked, studying her face carefully, as they came to a stop.

“Okay. It doesn’t really hurt that much anymore. It’s just the tiredness.”

“And how’s everything else?” he said, leaning both elbows on the bar and taking a swig of his beer.

“Er … fine, sir,” she stuttered, not quite sure what he was referring to.

“Yeah?” He glanced over at her and arched his eyebrow.

She looked back at him curiously, taking a mouthful of her beer, as he continued to stare.

“You went through quite a bit on this mission, Welles. I’m just wondering how you’re going with it all. Sometimes, you know, people can benefit from some counseling if they need it.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine, sir,” she said quickly, waving it off.

“Are you sure? You survived a couple of nasty attacks. You nearly died. That’s a lot to deal with. People have suffered after experiencing less.” He turned his body to face hers and looked her in the eye.

She held his look for a moment but then turned her eyes away. “I’m doing, okay, sir.”

Harris’s eyes were skeptical. “You were having some … interesting dreams in the hospital on the Aurora. You still getting them?”

Carrie shook her head, lying, wondering what Harris must’ve heard while he was covering for Doc. “No more than anyone else, sir.”

The captain, she noticed, stared at her a moment before suddenly averting his eyes, as though she’d hit a nerve. “Well,” he said, putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out a card and handing it to her, “that’s the number for the UNF counseling service. You need to talk to someone you give them a call. You don’t want to talk to them, I’ve written my number on there, too. I’m always available.”

Carrie stared at the card and at Harris’s number scrawled across it. She looked back up at him, locking eyes. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”

“And don’t be too stubborn or proud, Welles. This stuff can manifest if you don’t take care of it.”

She nodded. “Thank you, captain.” She gave him a smile. “Was that all?”

“No,” he said, eyeing her carefully.

She tried hard not to look nervous, but she noticed that Harris had a way of looking at her, studying her, as though he were reading her mind or something. She kept her face even.

“As you know, corporal, the Darwin mission was something of a test case for you new recruits.”

She gave a short, sharp, sarcastic laugh. “Was it ever!”

Harris grinned. “As I was saying, it was a test case, but as with any stint in the UNF, there’s always a view to a permanent placement should things work out.”

“Yes, sir.” she said, curious now.

“You impressed me, Welles. You exceeded my expectations. I know the Darwin mission was tough, very tough, but you stepped up. You got balls, corporal.”

A smile crept onto Carrie’s face, but she tried to keep it in check. Harris seemed to notice.

“I figure you can never have too many sharpshooters in your team. Besides, I like the fact that you’re keeping McKinley on his toes,” he said, flashing her a smile. “So, what I’m saying is that I would like to offer you a permanent place on the Aurora.”

A smile lit up Carrie’s face, but it quickly faded. She suddenly felt like she was caught between a rock and a hard place. She was thrilled with Harris’s offer, which surprised her considering how tough the mission had been, and how tough the dreams were that had followed her since. But she felt vindicated. She’d won Harris’s approval, against the odds, and yet, up until that moment, she thought that she was ready to give it all up if it meant being with Doc. But now the captain had given her his seal of approval. This intriguing man from the UNF was inviting her into his team, drawing her to follow him. Could she just turn away from that?

Harris seemed to detect her hesitation. “I don’t need an answer now, Welles. Go on leave and think about it. I’ll call you when I need an answer.” He looked down at the card in her hands. “Take your time and use that card if you need to. And just remember that I’m always here … We made a good team, Welles. I think you’d have a bright future aboard the Aurora if you decide to join us again.”

She nodded and took a gulp of her beer, trying to clear her throat of the lump threatening to build. Harris looked at her, then gave a sharp nod, “Okay. Let’s get back to drinking, shall we?”

“Captain.” She stopped him.

He looked back at her and she locked eyes with him.

“Thank you for everything. I know I haven’t exactly been the easiest soldier to deal with, but I have learned a lot from you. You, too, have exceeded my expectations, sir.”

He glanced down at his beer then back to her again. “Thank you, corporal. It’s not often the captain gets feedback from his soldiers. It means a lot. The colonel’s done a good job with you. He should be proud.”

“Oh!” Carrie reached into her pocket and pulled out her father’s note. “I got this. I thought you might want to take a look.”

Harris took the piece of paper from her, eyeing her curiously, opened it and read it in silence.

 

Ree,

Glad you made it back to Earth. I tried my best to keep the sun shining for your return—as good as I could from down here in Florida, anyway. Hope it was warm enough for you. Come and see me as soon as you can. I look forward to seeing you nice and tanned.

Dad

 

Harris closed it over and handed it back to her. “Burn it.”

She looked at him surprised.

“Just in case, corporal. Burn it.” Harris put his beer on the bar and asked the barman for a light and a bowl, assuring him it wasn’t for cigarettes, which were considered illegal in Fort Centralis. He handed them to Harris, who turned and took the note back off Carrie and lit it. She watched the flame grow and swallow it whole. Harris threw it into the empty bowl, blew it out, and they both surveyed the ashes. The captain nodded to himself, then finished what was left of his drink, and put the empty bottle back on the bar.

“Come buy me a beer, Welles,” he said, walking back over to the group.

Carrie followed him, and saw Doc standing at the bar watching them both curiously. They both moved to flank the lieutenant: Harris on his right and Carrie on his left. Doc exchanged a look with Harris, but didn’t mention anything about what he saw.

“Same again?” Doc looked over at Carrie.

She smiled and flashed a subtle, seductive glance. “Yes, please.”

Doc cleared his throat, almost blushing, then turned back to Harris. “And you, sir?”

“I believe I will have several, lieutenant!”

They took their drinks and made their way over to the tables.

“So,” Harris said, sitting down next to Hunter, “what are your plans, Hunter?”

The Kiwi pilot took a swig of his beer and smiled at Harris. “I’m going to go home, grab Leilani, jump into bed and not get out until you call me again!”

“Leilani?” Colt asked.

“My beautiful, beautiful girlfriend!”

“She is beautiful!” McKinley offered with a grin.

Hunter threw his bottle cap across the table at him.

“You kept that one quiet, Hunter,” Packham noted.

Hunter shrugged. “You never asked.”

“Alright,” Harris said looking over at Brown, “and you, Mr Brown?”

“Hell, I don’t know. Probably go lie on a beach somewhere and drink some cocktails,” he said, then looked over at Doc. “Doc tells me Hawaii is worth a visit. I hear the barmaids are pretty special.” He flicked his eyebrows up and down.

Doc gave an embarrassed laugh and looked down at his beer bottle. “That’s just what I hear, Brown!”

Carrie turned to Packham and started her own conversation. “What about you? What are you going to do?”

“Don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it yet. I’ll probably just head down to Saint-Tropez.”

“Saint-Tropez?”

“Yeah, my family have a beach house there.”

Carrie stared at her for a moment, then looked her up and down. “You’re rich, aren’t you?”

Packham glanced at her, then at McKinley who had been listening in, then shrugged, nodded, and downed her beer.

Carrie glanced over at McKinley. “And you?”

“I’m not rich.” He shook his head.

“No, I mean what are you going to do?” Carrie asked.

“Don’t know,” he said taking a swig of his beer. “I’ll probably drink for the first week. Then when the hangover fades, I’ll go visit my mother, play the good son, and try and make up for all the years of heartache I gave her.” He looked her in the eye. “And you?”

“I don’t know either. I’ll go see my dad for bit. Just in case he … I’d better thank him for … you know.”

McKinley nodded. “Yeah, you better do that.”

“Alright,” Harris said loudly, getting everyone’s attention. “I think it’s about time we raise a toast to the guys, before y’all can’t even speak your own names!” He stood and raised his glass, looking around at his soldiers. “I’m going to keep this simple. I don’t think you need me to tell you about your fellow soldiers, except to say that they were great soldiers, they were good people, and they will be sorely missed. So please raise your glasses to Carter, to Bolkov, to Louis and to Smith.”

Everyone raised their glasses: “to Carter, to Bolkov, to Louis and to Smith!” then they all took a long drink.

“Quietest you bunch have ever been,” Harris said, sitting back down.

Carrie eyed Harris as he took a seat again. “Captain?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you going to do with Smith’s ashes?”

Everyone looked at him. He seemed to ponder his answer for a moment.

“Smith once told me that he never really felt like he had a home until he came aboard the Aurora. So, I guess I’m going to take him back on board again, and when the time is right … I’ll let him go.”

The team remained silent for a moment, before Carrie broke it.

“I never knew Carter had a fiancée.”

McKinley smiled sadly. “No, he liked to play that card close to his chest.”

“Protecting her from you, huh?” Hunter grinned.

“No, he knew Leilani’s my favorite!”

Hunter found another bottle top to ditch at McKinley, who tried to duck but it caught him on the shoulder.

“Hey, you nearly got me then, fool!” Brown warned Hunter, who laughed back at him.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen!” Colt gingerly raised her arms at them. “Calm down before you re-injure some of us!”

“Oh, he’s only got a broken leg!” Hunter responded, waving McKinley off.

“Hey, my leg was practically snapped in half, buddy,” McKinley shot back.

“So? One broken arm, and two bullet wounds; three, if you include the one that went right through my arm, entry and exit! That’s four injuries, McKinley,” Hunter said holding up four fingers. “I win!”

“Hello!” Colt joined in. “Bullet wound to the neck. Narrowly missing major arteries.”

“What does a fractured skull count for,” Carrie offered, “or near strangulation?”

“Hell, Doc, you’re best placed to judge this competition,” Brown joined in.

“You forgot the captain’s broken ribs!” Packham added.

Doc looked around the group and shook his head. “You’re all as bad as each other!”

“Oh, c’mon, Doc!” Hunter called on another referee: “Captain, as Doc abstains from the voting, judging is passed to you.”

Harris eyed Hunter with an arched eyebrow, then ran his eyes over the group. “Alright,” he said, “you all sustained some pretty good injuries and you all made it through, but only one of you survived more than one serious attack … and that’s Welles.”

“Oh, man!” Hunter exclaimed.

“What?” McKinley joined in.

“AND, I might add,” Harris raised his voice over their protests, “she survived it without her gun, which you, Lieutenant McKinley, believed that she would not be able to do.”

Carrie looked over at McKinley and gave him a big beaming smile. He looked back at her smile, and scoffed.

“Yeah, but the difference is they weren’t trying to kill her, they wanted her alive. They were trying to kill us!” he argued.

“Yes, they were,” Harris nodded, “and if I recall correctly, it was Welles who saved both your ass and Hunter’s ass, and that is why you are now both sitting here today.”

“Touché, captain!” Doc laughed, clapping his hands.

“Jesus!” McKinley rolled his blue eyes. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

“I tell you what, McKinley,” Carrie said, leaning forward. “The time you beat me on the shooting range, is the time I’ll stop rubbing your face in it.”

This drew a lot of “oohs” from the group.

“Oh, game on, sister,” McKinley smiled. “Find me a shooting range, right now!”

“Now, lieutenant, you know the UNF does not approve of drinking and shooting,” Harris said, amused.

McKinley grinned, pointing at her. “We are so getting this game on. Mark my words!”

The group had a laugh at their competitive streaks, but soon fractured into several different conversations again. Carrie smiled to herself as she looked down at her beer. It was half gone already. She took another mouthful and looked over at Doc, who was listening to an animated Colt. His brown eyes smiled at Carrie with a sexy edge to them. She looked back down at her beer. She was starting to feel relaxed, and figured she’d better be careful or she’d risk losing her poker face completely.

Regardless, before long she was ready for another round.

“Who’s up?” she asked, standing up.

After taking several orders, Doc stood up also. “I’ll give you a hand.”

They headed over to the bar and stood facing it, their backs to the Aurora tables. The barman came straight over to them and they placed their order.

“So …” Doc said, staring straight ahead at the row of spirit bottles on display.

“So …?” Carrie said, doing the same.

“So, as your medic, I would advise you not to drink too much alcohol with that head injury, corporal,” he told her.

“But it’s making my head feel better, Doc,” she teased.

He glanced over at her and saw her smile, then faced front again. “Yes, it will do that, but tomorrow …”

“Mm,” Carrie nodded in agreement.

“Still, I could call on you later to check that you’re alright, if you like?”

Carrie flashed him a glance, then returned her eyes to the bottles. “That’s probably a good idea,” she said softly.

“Yes, it is,” he said nodding. “The only thing is, I’m not sure when I’m going to get out of here. Saul … the captain, is a very good drinker, and I can’t see him letting me go easily. So we may have a problem.”

“I see.”

“However, I will certainly do my very best,” he said throwing her another glance.

“That’s all you can do.”

“I’ll call you.”

Just then the barman came over with the drinks. Between them they took them back to the table and sat on opposite ends. Shortly after, the nurses from the UNF hospital walked back in the door.

“Are you kidding me?” McKinley said, looking at his watch.

“You’re lucky we let you stay this long,” his attractive brunette nurse said.

“C’mon,” he smiled at her. “It’s just my leg. There’s nothing wrong with my mouth.”

“You wanna bet?” she smiled back.

Brown cracked up laughing, while McKinley and Hunter looked glumly at each other.

Colt happily stood, and Carrie moved over to her to say goodbye.

“I don’t know when I’ll see you again?”

Colt smiled. “Well, if you’re ever in Orlando, look me up.”

“Well, my father just happens to live in Florida for six months of the year, so you never know.”

“Yeah? Great! Come here.” Colt leaned over and gave her a hug, patting her on the back. “You did good, girl. You should be proud.”

“Thanks, Sabrina. You kept me sane!”

“Look me up.” She nodded, then turned and walked over to Harris, as Carrie returned to her seat.

“Lieutenant, I won’t tell you again!” McKinley’s nurse smiled as she brought his crutches to him and walked off to get Hunter’s wheelchair.

“I would be following that if I were you,” Brown said, watching her walk away with a sly smile on his face.

McKinley stood, watching her too. “Mm-hmm,” he said, then he turned back around to the guys. “Now, she makes me want to break my other leg!”

The guys burst out laughing and Brown held out his hand to McKinley for a high-five, which he did.

McKinley looked over at Packham.

“Sergeant,” he nodded.

Packham nodded back and smiled, then McKinley turned to Carrie.

“I look forward to seeing you on the range, corporal,” he said with a straight face.

“As do I you, lieutenant,” she smiled.

He shook his head, fighting the smile threatening to break out on his face, then crutched his way over to Harris.

They watched McKinley, Hunter and Colt leave with their nurses, then Harris glanced around at those left: Doc, Brown, Packham and Carrie.

“I believe the night has just begun, people,” he said.

Doc looked at his watch. “Make that afternoon! It’s only 1600.”

Harris scoffed.

“Now, I must say, captain, you need to take it easy,” Doc warned. “One false drunken move and those ribs are gone again. I advise you not to drink much more.”

Harris looked at Doc, then glanced over at Brown, then back to Doc. “You can TRY, doctor!”

They all chuckled.

“Now, Packham,” Brown began, “I was telling Welles earlier about initiation. We’ve already lost Colt, so I think we’d better get started before anyone else leaves.”

“Initiation?” she asked, looking between Carrie and Brown.

“Brown, don’t be using the ‘I’ word in front of me,” Harris said, shaking his head.

“Or me,” Doc joined in, smiling.

“Oh, man!” Brown said slumping in his chair. “Where’s McKinley when you need him?”

“About to get a bed bath from a hot nurse, I suspect,” Packham offered.

“I know where I’d rather be,” Harris smiled.

“Well, the night is young, ladies,” Brown winked. “You’re not safe yet!”

Carrie looked over at Packham and they exchanged an amused look before Carrie turned back to him. “You know, Brown, with Captain Harris and Doc sitting on the sidelines, you’re the one outnumbered here. Perhaps we should initiate you?”

Packham grinned cheekily, as Brown gave Carrie an incredulous look.

“What the hell are two little white girls going to do to me?”

Carrie smirked and gave an evil laugh. “You have no idea!”

“Hell, I’d be afraid of that Brown,” Harris said, drinking his beer. Doc starting laughing and Harris shook his head. “Another night at The Vicar!”