Page 257 of 5+Us Makes Seven

Outside, I noticed a tall, metal fence surrounding the small military base, one of the few still in operation a decade after the war in Afghanistan had started.

“The CO will want to see you,” Cooper said.

“I can handle him.”

“We’ll see,” He snorted. “You’ve got balls, though, Ms. Hart.”

“Huge!” Logan added, laughing along with him.

The laughter died down as we approached the entrance of the camp, the entry control point or ECP as they called it. I’d been getting myself up to speed on military lingo and jargon for two weeks prior to arriving, but I still had a long way to go.

As we stopped at the outer gate, a fully armed soldier whose name I didn’t remember walked up and glanced into the back.

“What happened?” he asked.

“The Taliban were about to take her from the city forcibly. We had a firefight and saved her.”

I frowned but said nothing to correct his version of the events.

“Damn,” the soldier said then stepped back and waved us on.

When we reached one of the long, metal buildings with a rounded roof, Logan stopped.

“This is you,” he said.

I opened the door and climb

ed out.

“Hey,” Cooper shouted out.

I shielded the sun from my eyes with my hand and stared at him.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t let him give you too much shit, okay? I’m glad you’re safe.”

Despite my best efforts to mask my emotions, I smiled.

“Thanks. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“You better,” he said. “And get that head checked out.”

“I will.”

After Logan drove away, sending up a cloud of smoke, I walked to the entrance of the building that reminded me of a huge metal shipping container.

Captain Jeffries, the Commanding Officer of FOB Cobra, would not be happy with me sneaking out, but if I was investigating claims against the military, I wasn’t able to work too openly with them.

I opened the door and walked inside. While cooler than outside, without air conditioning it wasn’t very comfortable. Tony Roth, His aide-de-camp, sat at a tiny desk.

“Hey,” he said. “You made it back. Are you okay?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I think so. I came here first. Jeffries wants to speak with me?”

He nodded, his frail facial features so out of place in Afghanistan.

“Yes, he does. You should go see the medic first.”