Fleet Hospital. Anne Duquette Marie

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СКАЧАТЬ the routine and did their fair share. USAF flight surgeons, who were rarely trained anywhere but permanent hospitals, tended to complain when first confronted with manual labor. They bitched to the Chief, who correctly sent them to the CO. The whole purpose of the Fleet exercise was to bring together a bunch of strangers who could put up and run a wartime-casualty hospital. In the best of circumstances, the unit learned enough in two weeks to avoid being sent back for a second or third session. At worst, the students made the Keystone Cops look capable.

      “Have one of my officers give them the standard ‘things are different here’ talk, would you?” Michael said. “I won’t have time.”

      “Will do, sir. There’s one more thing.”

      Michael didn’t like the devilish twitch at the corners of the Chief’s mouth.

      “They’re from Alaska.”

      Michael’s lips compressed over the foul expletive he was dying to say. He’d give his eyeteeth for an Alaska station, but no, the Navy hadn’t figured out yet that happy people were productive people.

      “Alaska, Chief?” He congratulated himself on his bland tone. The Chief would be all over him if he showed any envy, any weakness.

      “Aye, sir. Those snow bunnies have no desert training whatsoever. And it’s going to be another bear today, too.”

      You mean another bitchin’ hot afternoon. Not that the Chief would ever say so. His manners were polite, his emotions kept in military-correct check at all times.

      This led some fools to assume the Chief was harmless or, worse yet, stupid. Michael never made that mistake. Fleet Hospital was supposedly run by Admin. But Admin was, in effect, the Chief. Treat him and his staff—emphasis on staff—with respect, and he was a benevolent genie in the bottle. Screw with his staff, and you screwed yourself. The Chief had a keen sense of justice, a better sense of honor and a rich wife who made any financial need for promotion nonexistent.

      The Chief ran the place like a well-oiled ship’s propeller shaft. Which meant Michael could get out of these cammies and take off early without guilt or worry. The Chief always kept his end of Fleet running smoothly. The man was a credit to his uniform. Always would be.

      “Make sure our Alaskan students don’t end up face-down when they’re lifting those litters, Chief.”

      “Aye, sir. If that’s all, feel free to bug out, sir. Oh, and I took the liberty of having someone put your dress whites in the men’s locker room. I also had your car started. It should be cool by the time you’ve changed.”

      “Thanks, Chief.” Unlike when he’d first reported for duty at Fleet, Michael wasn’t surprised by the nicety. “That’ll save me time.” He returned the clipboard. “I’ll be back at 0630 tomorrow.”

      “Aye, sir. My regrets on your loss, sir.”

      “Thanks, Chief.”

      No further conversation was required.

      SHE WAS WAITING for him by the car, Lieutenant Junior Grade Mellow, Supply Officer for Fleet. Sleek sophisticated Selena Mellow, Michael’s cousin. Technically she was his stepcousin once removed, possessing the same blond beauty as her much older first cousin, Sunshine. Michael hadn’t grown up with her, but eight years after he’d lost his mother and sister and left for college, Selena had moved into the house of her aunt Sunshine. She hadn’t wanted to leave her birthplace when her elderly parents moved to Arizona and retirement.

      Michael called her his cousin. He would never call Selena his sister, for Anna alone held that place, but Selena was the closest thing to a sibling he had, and he loved her like family. He didn’t see much of her while he was in college, but she made it a point to see him. A “mistake,” an only child who’d never been happy about either fact, she treated him as her big brother. Inspired by Michael, she’d even joined the Navy and requested that she be stationed with him.

      Loyal and honest, Selena made him laugh. Just the sight of her waiting by his car put a smile on his face. Although she was lower ranking, she didn’t bother with military protocol when they were alone, nor did he insist on it.

      “Something about a man in uniform,” Selena sighed, holding a clipboard with paperwork for him to sign. “God, you look good. If only we weren’t related.”

      He glanced up, amused. “Not as good as you,” he said, continuing the banter. “You must drive your fiancé insane with desire.” Although he grinned, he meant every word, despite her moulaged face and leg, the camouflaged fatigues with the ripped pant leg, under which he could see a simulated battle wound.

      “Who says we’ve been waiting for the honeymoon?”

      Michael held up his hands in mock horror. “Please, loose lips sink ships.”

      “I can trust you,” Selena replied. “Now get in the car before you start smelling like the rest of us sailors. I wish I was going.”

      He checked his watch. “It’s not too late to make the funeral. Sunshine would rather have us both. Paul will be there, too, I understand.”

      Selena beamed at the name of her soon-to-be husband, then the smile faded. “Yeah, I know, but we couldn’t round up enough safe ‘volunteers’ from the brig or stabilized mental patients for ‘wounded.’ Even those detached waiting to be shipped out have been—” she lifted her palms “—well, shipped out. So I’m a volunteer.”

      “They can use other staff.”

      “It’s not up to me. Besides, I got out of the watch last week when Sunshine wanted me to go to her latest gallery opening, so today is payback. I have to be on my litter near the ambulance in fifteen minutes.”

      “Then, cuz, you’d better hit the Porta Potties now. Going by the looks of that leg wound, you’ll be bed-panning it for the next forty-eight hours.”

      “I didn’t think of that.”

      “Who’d you tick off in Moulage to get the bum leg?”

      “No one. I moulaged myself when I relieved the regular artist for lunch. I made up my own injury from the empty slot on his roster.”

      “Well, I’m sorry you can’t come. Sunshine will be disappointed.”

      “That’s the last time I ask my CO to mess with the watch bill,” she said. “It’s my own fault, but getting last weekend off was worth it. Make my apologies to everyone, would you? Tell Paul I’ll call him later if I can.”

      “Will do. I’ll swing back here after the funeral and look in on you. Maybe I can find a last-minute replacement.”

      Selena’s grateful smile made him feel like a million dollars. “No, don’t do that. No reason we should both suffer. I have a fiancé to torture now, instead of you. Time to pass the torch-ure,” she quipped, winking at her weak pun. The wink looked ludicrous through the made-up bloody face.

      “You should be court-martialed for that one,” he replied, grinning nonetheless. “I’d better warn Paul about your plans—not to mention your fondness for bad puns.”

      Her laugh rang out over the compound. “He knows what he’s getting into. Here.” She shoved the clipboard СКАЧАТЬ