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a future together.  There’s nothing in this world that will keep me from returning to you.”

She knew what he was going to say next – she could just feel it and it literally broke her heart.  Tears were running down her face.

“But if I don’t, if something happens, I’ve taken care of you.  Revel Lee has my will and I’ve left instructions for it to be changed to make you the beneficiary.  While I’m gone, if you need anything – call him.”  As she shook her head, denying the possibility that something could happen, he kissed her tears away.  “All I ask is that you remember me.  Please.  Forget me never.”

Didn’t he realize what he did to her when he said that?  “I could never forget you,” she assured him between sobs.  Being forgotten was something that haunted Patrick.  He would wake up in a sweat from a dream where his very existence had been lost in the sea of memory.  “You are a part of me, Patrick Heath O’Rourke.  I could as easily forget myself as forget you.”

After he dressed, they held one another till it was time for him to go.  And when he left, she and Ciara stood at the window and watched till the taillights faded into nothingness.  He was gone.

*****

Patrick doesn’t see too much green over here. There are a few drops of color outside the city of Kabul, but the beige sand on the horizon is like a hospital wall without the thought that wellness is being made. The sand in the air used to make Patrick squint. He didn't know if it is possible to become callused to such a thing but it doesn’t burn today like it used to. It was probably the other wars Patrick was fighting. It was hell to be pulled from Savannah exactly when he was. She had just become his. His Destiny had agreed to be his future. He fought every second to not desert his comrades and rejoin his lover across the sea.

Patrick spit into the desert. The sun dried it before it dampened the sand. It is best to not worry about that, now. There is another war. Lucas doesn’t deserve his rank. Major Asshole is more like it. He joked about it sometime with the men. Patrick didn’t think of him as his commanding officer.  And if he had anything to do with it, he wouldn’t be a Marine much longer.

“Damn!”  He placed the call again.  “Fuck!”  He couldn’t get through.  All he could get was some stupid fast busy signal that told him all the circuits were busy.  Patrick would be making no overseas calls today.  Could things be more shitty?  He had no cell phone service, no internet service, he couldn’t get a hold of Revel Lee to tell him where he had stashed the evidence to bring the bastard down, and he had left the woman he loved crying.  Lucas was a traitor.  He could prove it, too.  Patrick had left the thumb drive, the biggest gun in his battle with Lucas, where he left his heart, in Savannah’s home. Nobody would look there.

“It’s time for your briefing, O’Rourke.  When I finish, you can get your gear, and load your men up.”  Without a shred of emotion, Lucas stood in the door of Patrick’s tent.  Over and over again, he threw that stress ball in the air, squeezing it in between tosses.  “Aadil Mahmoud is being held in The Pit about thirty miles outside of Kabul, deep in the desert.  He aided our allies in pinpointing two Sheiks that have funded dozens of terrorist activities.  The way he carried out his mission was by traveling from village to village and offering inoculations.  We possessed the DNA of Sheik Abdul brother and Sheik Adrees’s uncle, so Mahmoud could swab the mouth of each person and compare the results to what he already knew and let us know where our targets were hiding out.  Because wherever their families were located – they would not be far away.”

Lucas droned on and on.  Not that the information wasn’t important, but all Patrick could think about was that he was dealing with the devil himself.  Maybe it was that psychic streak he possessed, but every bone in his body was telling him that this was a trap.  But if he disobeyed a direct order, he’d do nobody any good in the brig – certainly not Savannah.  So, he had to think of something else, some other way.

“It’s your job to get Mahmoud out.  Whatever it takes.  The blueprints and a reconnaissance report has been given to your spotter.  He usually does that sort of thing doesn’t he?  I know he isn’t white, but I’m sure he can read.”

Rage just flashed through Patrick.  “Hawke is a fine man, Sir!” He spit the words out.  “We’ll rescue the doctor.”

“You see that you do, O’Rourke.  I’ll be in constant radio contact.  I’ll be watching you.”

Somehow that was no comfort whatsoever.

Patrick, Jayco and Hawke drove the distance to the Tangi Valley.  He had decided not to explain things to his men until they got where they were going.  They weren’t going to like what he had to say – but that was tough shit.  They were his men, and they would obey his orders.

They arrived at their target destination or near it and decided to set up base camp and wait till just before daybreak to make their move.

“Hey O’Rourke!” Hawke called out into the stiff air.

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Did you enjoy your leave with little Savannah?”

“Now’s not the time, Lieutenant.”

Oh no. This can’t be good, Hawke thought.  Although Patrick did indeed outrank Jayco and Hawke, they were brothers-in-arms. Their missions went smoothly and the friendship forged in this hell left them as close as family. Patrick wasn’t formal unless they were in trouble, being watched, or both.

“Of course, Captain.  We await your orders, Sir.” The curious desire to pick his friend’s mind had been replaced by the red tape of

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