Page 23 of Duty and Desire
Ros let go of Scarlett’s hand and stepped back, returning to her usual authoritative demeanor. “We’ll need to be discreet, Scarlett. We’ll make sure no one has any reason to question us. But for now, we have to act as if nothing’s changed. We have to keep our focus.”
8
ROS
Even Ros hadn’t been prepared for the call that came through. A routine patrol helicopter was shot down in hostile territory, and the soldiers aboard were taken hostage. No one had predicted that the insurgents would become so bold so quickly.
They were becoming much more of an issue than Ros and her officers had ever expected.
“This is my call, Colonel. They are my soldiers. I didn’t have the foresight to protect them, so I’m damn well going to protect them now.”
“General, we need you to liaise from base.”
“I give the orders, Hale. I’m going with them.”
“But what if something happens while you’re gone? What if something happens to you?”
“You managed admirably before I arrived here, Colonel. I’m sure you’ll do so again.” With that, the matter was closed and Ros strode out of the briefing room.
The news that the general was accompanying the rescue mission in person had rippled through the base like an explosion. In most, it spiked amusement or awe; in Scarlett, it only produced panic. The responsibility of ensuring the equipment was prepared and ready only weighed more heavily on her. If something went wrong, not only would the mission go south, but Ros might also never come back to her.
Scarlett moved with purpose, her mind a whirlwind of calculations and checks. The noise around her—the clang of metal, hum of machinery, murmur of urgent voices—faded into the background as she focused on the task at hand. Each wire she soldered, each system she tested was a step closer to getting those soldiers home. The pressure was immense, but Scarlett thrived on it. She had to.
“Check that power relay again,” Scarlett ordered, her voice sharp and clear above the din. One of her junior engineers nodded, moving quickly to comply. They couldn’t afford any mistakes. If anything failed in the field, it wouldn’t just be a setback; it could mean the difference between life and death.
The minutes ticked by with agonizing speed. Scarlett wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, ignoring the dull ache in her muscles from hours of continuous work. There was no time to rest, no time to think about anything other than the mission. But even as she pushed herself to the limit, the weight of the rumors lingered at the back of her mind. She had noticed the way people looked at her lately—the quiet conversations that would halt the moment she entered a room, the sidelong glances. She didn’t need to ask what they were about.
But Scarlett shoved those thoughts aside, focusing on the immediate task. She couldn’t afford distractions, not now. Ros was out there leading the rescue operation, and the last thing Scarlett wanted was for her to have any doubts about the equipment they were sending with the team. Their relationship might be on shaky ground, but Scarlett’s commitment to her work—and to Ros—was unshakable.
“Scarlett,” one of her engineers called out, bringing her back to the moment, “the diagnostics are all clear. We’re ready.”
Scarlett took a final look over the equipment. Everything was set. “Good. Let’s get this to the team. They’re counting on us.”
Mind set on the mission ahead of her, Ros climbed into the helicopter that would be taking her rescue platoon just outside the insurgents’ territory. With one chopper shot down, they couldn’t risk getting any closer.
The soldiers with her sat in an uncomfortable silence. They obviously didn’t know how they were supposed to act in her company. Ros would bet that their senior officers had drilled into their heads that they were to act like consummate soldiers, at least during the ride there.
“Relax, soldiers. I’m not here to inspect you, am I? I’m here to do my job, same as you. To bring these soldiers home.”
Not one of them eased, and Ros rolled her eyes, turning back to watching the view from the open side of the craft. It had been so long since she’d felt wind on her face like this. God, she missed it.
The helicopter’s rotors whipped the air into a frenzy as it descended, the dull roar growing louder until it dominated the senses. Ice, snow, and dirt swirled in the darkness, obscuring thefigures huddled within the aircraft, their faces grim and focused. Ros sat at the front, and her eyes narrowed as she peered into the night. Every muscle in her body was tense, coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. The mission was clear, but the risks loomed large in her mind.
The moment the doors opened, she was on her feet, her rifle held close to her chest as she stepped out into the night. The cool air hit her face, sharp and biting, but she barely noticed. Her senses were on high alert, scanning the perimeter for any sign of the enemy. The insurgent encampment lay ahead, a collection of hastily constructed shelters and makeshift barriers shrouded in the darkness. The only light came from flickering campfires casting long, distorted shadows that danced across the ground. Ros gestured to her team, signaling for them to spread out and move forward. They moved like shadows, silent and swift, their training kicking in as they advanced toward the encampment.
Ros's heart pounded, each beat echoing in her ears as they closed the distance. The sound of her own breathing filled her head, steady but heavy with the weight of what was to come. The lives of her captured soldiers were at stake, and failure wasn’t an option. She couldn’t afford to think about anything else—not Scarlett, not the rumors, not the consequences of this mission. All that mattered was getting those soldiers out alive.
They reached the outer edge of the encampment and took cover behind a line of rocks. Ros knelt down, scanning the area with her night-vision goggles. She could see the enemy sentries, their figures outlined in green as they patrolled the perimeter. Ros raised her hand, signaling for the team to hold. They needed to take out the sentries quietly or the entire camp would be on them in seconds.
One of her men, Sergeant Daniels, moved into position, his silenced rifle at the ready. Ros watched as he took aim, her breath catching in her throat as he squeezed the trigger.
The sentry dropped without a sound, crumpling to the ground. One down.
Ros gave the signal to move forward. The team advanced, taking out the remaining sentries with surgical precision. The camp was eerily quiet, the insurgents oblivious to the danger creeping ever closer. Ros could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as they reached the first of the shelters. The captured soldiers were somewhere inside, but so were the insurgents. They couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
The silence shattered.
A burst of gunfire erupted from the darkness, the sharp crack of bullets cutting through the night. The insurgents had spotted them.