The Will to Love. Lindsay McKenna

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СКАЧАТЬ drew abreast of Morgan as he walked swiftly toward the hospital.

      “Laura suffered a broken ankle. She had surgery here. Then, shortly after the surgery, she developed a blood clot. They had to string up her leg with a pulley, and she was tied down like a roping calf.” Morgan grinned wryly. “My wife is not one to lie in bed all day and do nothing. We had to wait until some blood-thinning drugs were flown in from Seattle for her.” He rubbed his hands together. “Today, she gets out of her contraption and into a wheelchair. The doctor says the clot is dissolved and her ankle is stable enough for her to be a little more active.”

      “Almost two weeks in a bed would drive me nuts,” Quinn muttered. It would. He was restless by nature, and loved the outdoors and the strenuous activity demanded of marines.

      “Yes, well…” Morgan chuckled “…if it hadn’t been for a tiny baby the team rescued from beneath the rubble, Laura would never have survived bed rest. She’s been taking care of Baby Jane Fielding for the nurses. And the hospital staff bring up other infants so Laura can hold them and bottle-feed them. They’ve been keeping her busy.”

      Quinn smiled knowingly. There was no doubt about Laura’s maternal side. He liked that about women in general, although in his world, he saw mostly women marines, with tough, demanding jobs. Still, he saw that nurturing side in many of them, too. It was something he enjoyed about women, in or out of the service.

      They hurried into the chaotic, busy hospital and up an elevator. Quinn was glad to escape the bustle once they arrived at the private room where Laura Trayhern sat in her wheelchair, an infant wrapped in a pink blanket in her arms.

      “Hello, Quinn.” Laura greeted him warmly as he approached. “You look well.”

      “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, nodding to her and smiling. The infant was suckling strongly on a bottle of milk. “I’m glad to hear from Mr. Trayhern that you’re doing okay.”

      “I’m fine.” Laura lifted her face toward Morgan as he bent and gave her a kiss on the brow. Then he gently stroked the baby’s dark, soft hair.

      Quinn saw the man’s face change remarkably. For a moment, he glimpsed the love burning in Morgan’s eyes for his wife of many years. And when Morgan ran his fingertips caressingly across the baby’s hair, Quinn saw tenderness replace his normally stoic expression. But as Morgan’s fingers lifted away, Quinn saw the same hard mask fall back into place. Despite that, there was no doubt in his mind that Morgan loved his wife and the orphaned baby.

      “Come over here, Son. Let’s sit down and go over this new plan that you’re going to initiate for the basin.”

      Moving to the two metal chairs near the venetian-blind-covered window, Quinn excused himself from Laura. Morgan handed him one of two red folders and sat down. Opening his copy, Quinn saw a set of signed orders with his name at the top. The other members of his fire team were named, as well.

      Scowling, Morgan studied the folder opened in his lap. “We’re initiating a basin-wide plan B today, and you’re a part of that effort—you and your fire team. It’s a trial balloon. A work in progress, so to speak. We don’t know if it will work or not, so you’re an experiment of sorts. We can’t afford to put a full squad of ten men into each area. Camp Reed doesn’t have the personnel to pull that off. But by splitting up a squad into two fire teams of five people each, plus their leader, we have a chance to do something rather than nothing.” He looked squarely at Quinn. “So you’re it. You’re our test case. You’re to play it by ear and see where the energy flows in this changing situation. You’re the only fire team we’re putting in there for now. If it works, we’ll insert others later.”

      “Five marines in each given area?” Quinn asked.

      “That’s right. We’ve divided the basin into twelve quadrants. These are huge blocks of real estate. We’re talking ten to twenty square miles, depending upon the location, the population of the area and so on.” Scratching his head, Morgan gave Quinn a rueful look. “Believe me, Logistics has been wrestling with this nightmare. The basin has no law enforcement. Without backup, the police in some areas can’t do what they’ve been trained to do. There are no highways to drive on to get to a problem area. They’re pretty much limited to handling problems within walking distance of their base of operation.”

      Morgan pulled a sheet of fax paper from his file folder and handed it to Quinn. “This is Deputy Sheriff Kerry Chelton. She is the only surviving member of the law enforcement agency in Area Five. Kerry contacted us by radio a week ago, and I’ve had the pleasure of talking with this young woman a number of times. Damned intelligent and resourceful. She found a gasoline generator, some fuel, and managed to retrieve a radio from the sheriff’s building, which collapsed and killed everyone inside it. She calls us every night with reports. Beautiful woman, isn’t she?”

      Taking the paper, Quinn saw the photo on it. For no explainable reason, his heart contracted instantly. The black-and-white picture showed a woman with dark hair, cut to just below her ears. With her heart-shaped face, full but compressed lips and wide eyes, she was a very attractive woman, Quinn decided. The head shot showed her in her law enforcement uniform. The resolve in her large eyes was obvious. She exuded confidence.

      “Yes, sir, she’s a looker, no doubt,” he murmured.

      “Kerry has been in regular contact with our radio group at H.Q. She’s been helping us formulate stage two of our rescue efforts.” Sighing, Morgan said in a low voice, “There’s a lot of people out there dying right now. We just can’t get to them soon enough. The water mains are broken, so there’s no fresh water supply, or at least, not enough for the millions that are trapped out there. And food, while less of a problem now because people can go to their homes and eat whatever canned goods they find, will be disappearing shortly, too. Kerry has been scouting as much of Area Five as she can every day and giving us nightly reports. She’s telling us what the needs are, and we’ve been trying to organize community groups in each area to help stabilize the situation. We’re trying to find local police, state troopers, sheriff’s deputies—anyone in law enforcement—to become the hub of this wheel we’re building. Without law and order, chaos continues.”

      “Yes, sir, I’ve been hearing plenty about that gang in Area Five.”

      “Humph. Those survivalists. They call themselves Diablo—or Devil. And you, Quinn, are going to be taking them on.” Morgan gave him a hard look.

      “I’d like nothing better, sir. They killed two marine pilots in cold blood. That’s reason enough to go after them.” At the thought, anger tightened his chest. Yet when Quinn studied Kerry’s photo again, his heart sped up and thumped violently for a beat or two. Part of him was eager to meet this inventive woman. Another more prejudiced part of him didn’t believe a woman could be that resourceful. Yet Morgan obviously admired and respected her, so she had to have the right stuff. In Quinn’s experience, women were not especially handy or practical. Nurturing others was one thing, but there really wasn’t much place for that in the Marine Corps. And he really didn’t like the integration of females into male slots in the corps. Not at all.

      “At 0800, Quinn, you are to go to LZ Echo with your fire team. The pilots of that Huey will take you and your team into Area Five. They’re going to drop you at a destroyed shopping mall parking lot. Deputy Chelton will meet you there. She has a makeshift H.Q. set up nearby with that generator. What she needs now is help.” Morgan eyed him with a slight, twisted smile. “Firepower, in other words.”

      “And who’s in charge, sir?”

      “Both of you will be.”

      Quinn СКАЧАТЬ