Anaz-Voohri (10 page)

Lieutenant Vargas had opened a medical kit and held her combat knife. “He can’t walk back. Someone fetch some branches to make a sled, something we can pull, slanted like an Indian Travois.”

Half a dozen soldiers scrambled away. Zack felt too tired to move. Two steps from him, the remains of the mangled rattlesnake still writhed in the dust. It was a diamondback, deadly bastards according to Lobo.

“Ready, soldier?"
The Lieutenant poised the knife over the dark lump marked by two puncture wounds.

Williams swallowed hard and stared at the sharp blade then looked away. He only grimaced when Lieutenant Vargas plunged the point into the lump and cut it out.

“I assume you tested negative for HIV before joining this unit?”

Williams nodded.

“My methods are not regulation in this country, but believe me, where I come from, they’ve proven effective." She grabbed the calf and sucked.

When she came out to breathe and spat the blood on the rocky ground, her bloody mouth reminded Zack of some seductive vampire, beautiful and deadly. She wiped her lips with her sleeve then sucked more blood and spat again. She rinsed her knife and her mouth with water from her canteen then spat that, too. “Get me that kit.”

Zack pushed the open medical kit toward her.

Lieutenant Vargas selected a syringe of anti-venom, ripped the plastic wrap then injected the full dose into Williams’ leg. She massaged the leg and glanced up. “How is it the sled coming?" She grabbed a bandage pack tore the sterile silver bag, applied the bandage on the open wound and taped it in place. “Someone get me a blanket.”

Zack pulled out a thermal sheet from the emergency kit and unfolded it on the ground next to Williams who rolled onto it.

“Wrap him so he can’t move." Lieutenant Vargas glanced up to Zack. “And get someone else to carry your pack, soldier. You’re running with me the rest of the way back to camp, and we are dragging Williams.”

As he wrapped Williams like a burrito in aluminum foil, Zack wanted to scream
Why me?
But when he looked around, he realized that even in his state of fatigue, he was the man’s best chance of getting to the infirmary in time, and Lieutenant Vargas knew it. Still, her decision didn’t make sense. “Can’t we call for a helo or a camp ambulance to come pick him up, like when a recruit passes out from the heat?" Zack immediately regretted his words.

Tia Vargas looked up at him with unmasked disgust. “Should I remind you that this exercise is meant to replicate a real combat situation? When we are behind enemy lines, on a survival mission with total com silence, we can’t call for help every time something bad happens. We take care of the problem ourselves.”

”What about Williams?"
Zack shuddered as thunder rolled in the distance.

“He had preliminary care. He’ll be fine as long as we get him to the infirmary within the next hour.”

Five soldiers finished constructing the makeshift sled with Palo Verde branches, a sleeping mat, a thermal blanket, and rappel ropes. They brought it next to Williams,
then
affixed the harnesses.

The Lieutenant grabbed William’s wrapped legs and motioned for Zack to take the shoulders. “Help me!”

Zack picked up Williams to set him on the sled. The wounded man didn’t complain as Zack secured him to the frame.

Zack didn’t know whether to hate or admire the Lieutenant. If this were a real situation, her quick decisions and expertise would have saved a soldier’s life. For now, what mattered was getting Williams back to camp, so despite his sore feet, Zack harnessed himself to one side of the sleigh and the Lieutenant hitched herself next to him. Upon her signal, they started running downhill toward camp, lifting a cloud of dust, while the rest of the platoon followed at a slower pace.

Half way through the breathless ride, the storm burst overhead, releasing a welcome downpour. Soon, however, they slipped and slid in a deluge of mud. It took all of Zack’s self control not to insult the Lieutenant to her face for her poor choices of transportation. Wasn’t William’s health worth breaking the rules?

Williams made it to the infirmary in time to get the intravenous line. Zack nearly collapsed upon arrival, but held on until he reached his tent. He didn’t want Lieutenant Vargas to see him fall apart. That night, Zack had to remind himself of his reasons to request this training. He needed to get stronger so one day soon, he could rescue Ashley. He would get through this.

*****

A few days later all the male and female recruits gathered around a large foam mat outside the circle of tents for hand to hand combat instruction. As Zack expected, Lieutenant Vargas called upon him to demonstrate the moves. If she hoped to humiliate him again, she’d be in for a surprise. This was Zack’s area of expertise, and he wouldn’t miss the chance to kick her butt in front of the whole platoon, Lieutenant or not.

“Who can enumerate for me the weakest points of the human body?”

Zack raised his hand. When she nodded as he was the only one to volunteer, he blurted, “The shadows of a man standing in the sun at noon.”

Surprise on her face, Lieutenant Vargas smiled as if proud of him. “Not bad. Step up. I’ll explain.”

Zack took three steps forward.

The lieutenant approached and circled him slowly. “When a person stands in the noon sun, the parts of the body that remain in shadow are the most vulnerable, because they are not protected by strong bone. If you hit these points with enough force or with a sharp blade, your opponent will most likely die.”

She pulled out her combat knife. “The skull is very hard." She tapped Zack’s buzzed head with the flat of the blade. “And soldiers usually wear a helmet on the battlefield. The shoulders are strong." She pushed down on his shoulder with her fist and Zack braced himself not to buckle. “The rib cage is designed to deflect a blade."

The Lieutenant patted Zack’s chest, and her hands lingered, eliciting a rather pleasant sensation. “You can slide the blade between the ribs but it takes precision. The easiest way to the heart is from that shadow just under the rib cage." She stayed her blade half an inch from his tee-shirt. “But what of the eye sockets?"

When she prodded with forked fingers and stopped just short of touching his eyes, Zack managed not to blink. As he congratulated himself, however, the Lieutenant’s close proximity made him nervous. He found her subtle gardenia fragrance quite distracting. He wondered whether the heavenly smell came from her flawless skin or the long dark hair neatly pulled back into a ponytail. She certainly wouldn’t wear perfume on the job.

“What about the nostrils?" She mimicked a blow to the underside of the nose.
“The throat?
The armpits?"
She illustrated the direction of the attacks with the knife as she went.
“The scrotum?”

Zack mustered all his self control not to flinch or move to protect his private parts as she came up with the blade and stopped a bare inch from his crotch. God, that was close. His gaze met her dark eyes and Zack read mischief in her half smile. His lack of reaction seemed to please her.

“These are your primary targets in knife combat." She backed up a few steps and sheathed the blade then motioned to Zack. “Now go ahead and attack me, and please don’t go easy. Give me all you’ve got!”

Hiding his training under a seemingly casual stance, Zack charged, launching a series of kicks and punches in quick succession, forcing the Lieutenant to retreat. She barely avoided his blows and he didn’t give her the slightest chance to grab hold of him.

When she tumbled and quickly rolled away, Zack hesitated. As much as he wanted to teach her a lesson, he couldn’t bring himself to push his advantage.

Lieutenant Vargas regained her balance and came up with a grin. “Never step back or hesitate when you are winning, soldier. You just wasted your best advantage, the element of surprise.”

Zack resisted the urge to talk back. He wouldn’t give her the chance to give him more push ups. Damn her. He’d get her next time.

She turned to address the group. “Although Private Duncan didn’t follow through, this was a good example of aggressiveness and skill. You need both in combat. Aggressiveness alone will only get you killed, and skill without aggressiveness is not enough to overcome a stronger opponent. Something else private Zack Duncan did very well is
use
his whole body to strike. He didn’t just reach with fist or boot, he charged with his whole weight behind each punch or kick. Each time you strike, give it everything you’ve got. Anything less is not enough.”

Zack couldn’t believe she’d actually complimented him in front of the platoon. He refrained from smiling. This could turn out to be fun after all.

“Obviously, Private Duncan had some training." She glanced in his direction as if to challenge him. “But do not confuse Martial Arts with real combat. Most martial arts are only sports and sports have rules. They teach you to fight fair. We don’t. We train to kill and to survive. There are no rules in war and love, as they say.”

The recruits chuckled but Zack didn’t. Was she checking his reaction?

Her mirth vanished. “You do whatever it takes. If the enemy drops his weapon and you still have yours, use it. “

She turned to face Zack. “Let’s do this again. Show me what else you’ve got, and since you’ve had some training, I’ll counterattack this time.”

Zack circled to the side then drop-kicked to the face. Lieutenant Vargas ducked and rushed his mid-section. Surprised that a woman would choose a test of strength, Zack lost his balance. The wind knocked out of him, he fell on his back. Grateful for the mat that cushioned his fall, he found the Lieutenant sitting on his chest, her knife at his throat.

Without a thought, Zack knocked her hand and sent the knife flying. Then he rolled over her. Her brown eyes softened as she stared into his. A strange emotion took hold of Zack. His heart thumped like a chopper blade. She grinned then writhed out of his grip.

Zack grabbed her from the back, his body covering hers, and hooked her neck in a sleeper hold. He didn’t dare apply pressure, but secretly savored his victory. He’d won and she knew it. As much as she’d humiliated him over the past weeks, however, Zack resisted the temptation to make her look incompetent in front of the platoon.

She twisted in his grip like an eel out of water and slicked away. She was fast. Back on her feet, she came back and attacked in a blur. It took all of Zack’s focus to see the knife coming at his face. When did she retrieve it? Did she have two blades? He blocked the knife arm, twisted it and sent her flying down.

As she
lay
face down, arm jutting upward, he laid his boot onto her back and pried the knife from her hand. Her ponytail had slipped and the sight of her long dark hair spilling on the mat brought other images. Zack imagined her supple body naked under his foot. Distracted for a second, he missed the slight movement that allowed her to slink away yet again.

She rolled out of reach and rose in a fluid motion.
“Time out!"
She snatched the rubber band from the mat and pulled back her hair. As if she avoided looking at Zack, she addressed the platoon. “Now you pair up and try those moves on each other. I don’t want to see any blood. This is only training, so use the wooden dowels for knives.”

Zack breathed hard and he noticed that Lieutenant Vargas didn’t. He could still see in her the wild Amazon he’d glimpsed a few seconds ago, and the memory stirred his blood. Damn! He’d never seen any girl so quick, strong and beautiful at the same time.

“Private Duncan?”

His name brought Zack back to the moment.

“Help me watch the others and correct their moves.”

Zack had assisted his teacher many times at the Dojo, but this came quite unexpectedly. He couldn’t help grinning as he saluted.
“Yes, Ma’am.”

Over the next weeks, the training intensified. Gradually, the brutal muscle pain turned to a familiar ache. Zack’s sinews hardened. Then the basic routine of Camp Hell became just that, a routine. Camp life with outside showers, regular marches, day and night exercises in monsoon mud or parched desert, obstacle courses, combat and weapon practice.

Even kitchen or latrine duty didn’t feel like punishment anymore. It became some kind of challenge, a game soldiers played.
A game of pride, mainly.
And as he surpassed himself each day, Zack kept a steady eye on the lovely shape of Lieutenant Tia Vargas.

She didn’t pick on Zack as much, although he challenged her orders on a regular basis. The fact that he’d never seen her sweat, or even breathe heavy, intrigued him. Would he ever get to that level of fitness? He could already see improvement in his own ability to adapt to the climate and the rigorous training.

Soon, Zack found himself enjoying any physical undertaking she threw at him. He even learned to smile in the midst of the grueling ordeals. Something inside him refused to lose face in front of the wild and beautiful soldier.

*****

Lieutenant Tia Vargas entered the Colonel’s office unprepared for the sight of Private Duncan sitting in a chair like a guest. In the drab fluorescent light bouncing off the concrete walls, he looked comfortable, almost chummy with the CO and seemed amused to see her. Thin but well built, tanned by the Arizona sun, he looked definitely handsome in his desert camouflage uniform.