Danger Close (Shadow Warriors) (3 page)

Then, Lisa got wrapped up in the WLF movement. Cathy shook her head and methodically dug a small hole with the toe of her boot in the sand. She had tried to talk Lisa out of it; the WLF was about killing human beings. Not animals, but people this time. Lisa was one of the few people Cathy had ever shared her feelings with. She had told Lisa about killing that buck on that cold, frosty morning. But none of Cathy’s experiences made a difference with Lisa and she’d shrugged it off. She wanted to prove that women could do the job in combat. An old argument drifted back to her.

“The Laotians are the
enemy,
Cathy! Come on!
”

“They’re human beings, Lisa.”

“Oh, for God’s sake! They’re Communists and they’re trying to over-run the Thais. You call their wholesale slaughter of women and children good?
”

“No, I don’t
.”

Lisa gave her an angry look. “Someone has to stop them, Cathy. Women are just as good in combat as men
.”

“It doesn’t have to be us. I’m a hundred percent for women having equal rights. And I know women can be combat soldiers, if they want. Listen to me, Lisa—we’re talking about you squeezing the trigger and blowing a hole through a human being. Stop and think about that for a minute. A person. Someone who probably has a family. Who laughs, cries and has a heart that feels. Do you really think you can do it?
”

Stubbornly, Lisa set her pointed chin. “You think too much, Cathy. That’s your problem. If he’s the enemy, you bet I can do it
.”

“Can you live with his death?
”

“What do you mean?
”

“When I killed that buck, I had nightmares for almost six months after that, Lisa. I’d wake up screaming when I saw his gutted, bloodied insides chasing me. It’s horrible, Lisa. You sit there in bed, sweating and shaking, crying and feeling bad. And then you can’t sleep, so you get up
.”

“You’re just too sensitive, Cathy. That deer was meat for your family. Food to keep you guys from going hungry. Why you’d let a deer give you nightmares is beyond me
.”

Cathy had grimly held on to her simmering anger, holding Lisa’s glare. “Yeah, well, I hope you can live with a man’s death on your hands. That will be even worse
.”

A faint shudder of dread went through Cathy as she allowed that confrontation to fade in her memory. That was one of their many arguments before Lisa had belligerently enlisted in the WLF anyway. Then Cathy had reluctantly signed up too, because she knew that beneath her bravado, Lisa was just as sensitive and vulnerable to pain as she was. Lisa was her only real family and someone had to be there for her, to support her when that house of cards she hid behind collapsed during the terror of combat. In the jungles of Thailand, hunting down the enemy. Cathy laughed bitterly at herself: she was so worried about Lisa surviving when she wasn’t sure she herself would even make it.

“Cathy?”

Cathy turned, hearing Penny Amato’s voice. She gave a half smile as the black-haired Italian woman approached. “Hey.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear me coming. Usually nothing gets past those dog ears of yours,” Penny teased.

“I was deep in thought,” Cathy admitted, relaxing.

Penny pulled a pack of Marlboros from the pocket of her utility shirt. At twenty-four, she was the second oldest woman in the WLF. Like Cathy, she was in charge of a squad of younger women. She offered Cathy a cigarette.

“No, thanks.”

Penny smiled. “You’ll start smoking once we get over there.”

“Yeah?”

She took a deep drag off the cigarette. “Didn’t you hear? Combat creates addictive habits. Why worry about getting cancer of the lungs when a bullet is a lot bigger possibility? If we survive Thailand, we’re home free. We prove women can be in combat and killed just like any man can. What’s a little smoke in the lungs, right,
cara
?”

With a snort, Cathy agreed, warming to Penny. This was the first time since Penny’s three days in the Closet, that Cathy had been able to make contact with her. When the WLF was being formed, Cathy had been drawn to Penny’s wry humor. The heavy-boned, robust woman had an olive complexion, round face, apple cheeks and dancing, dark brown eyes. Cathy had often wondered why Penny had volunteered for the WLF. She was too outgoing, warm and affectionate by nature to fit into the profile Lane had demanded of her “combat-killers template.”

Penny tossed a look over her shoulder, making sure they were alone. She stood two inches shorter than Cathy. Penny leaned closer, squinting against the sun. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll tell you, there’s only one thing that’s a bitch about Lane restricting us while everyone else gets liberty.”

Cathy placed her hands over her slim, almost boyish hips. “What’s that?”

“I’m horny as hell and I was planning to meet with my boyfriend. Dammit, anyway.”

A grin edged Cathy’s mouth, her green eyes light with amusement. “You could say it was one of the sacrifices for the cause.”

Penny chortled, her laughter deep and full throated as she tipped her head back, the sound carrying over the desolate landscape. “Lane’s cause,
cara
, not ours. I’ve fought hard for women having all doors open to them in the military. Lane’s the only ticket in town that I can see. I’d rather have worked with a combat company of men, but what the hell. At least we have a shot at proving we’ve got the right stuff.”

Cathy warmed to Penny’s endearment for her. “Well, if we were on liberty right now, we’d probably get into a lot more trouble. And you’re right—Lane is the only game in town. I’d feel better working in with the guys, too. They have a lot more combat experience than the major does.”

“You got that right. Too bad you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Right now is not a good time to have a boyfriend or family. I want to survive this thing in one piece. I’m glad I don’t have any other distractions like most of the women have. I don’t like the idea of coming home in a body bag.”

Laughter sparkled in Penny’s dark eyes. “You’re right. Body bags aren’t in style.” She grinned evilly and took another drag on the cigarette. “What nationality are you?”

“Anything I want to be.”

“Ah, sorry, I forgot you were orphaned.”

Cathy reached out, resting her hand on Penny’s shoulder. “Don’t be. Actually, it’s kinda handy. I can be from anywhere. My parents can be anything I imagine them to be and I can choose the nationality I want, depending upon circumstance and mood.”

“You’re crazy smart, Cathy.”

It was Cathy’s turn to chortle. She allowed her hand to slip from Penny’s shoulder but held her gaze. “Or sane. I’ve given up trying to figure out who’s right or wrong, or if there even
is
a right or wrong. According to Lane, it’s okay to kill in war because it’s the moral thing to do. Of course, if we kill here in civilian life, it’s murder. Does that make sense?”

Penny lost her smile, the laughter dying in her eyes. She dropped the butt, crushing it beneath the sole of her boot. “Those are dangerous thoughts,
cara
. Don’t let anyone hear you thinking them out loud. Besides, war never makes sense. It doesn’t decide who’s right or wrong. Just to those who survive it.”

“No kidding. I’ll be careful,” Cathy promised. “I never thought of life in terms of danger, always looking over my shoulder to see if Big Sister was watching my every move.” Cathy sighed deeply and looked at the raw desert landscape. “Coming into the WLF has totally unglued me. I used to think I knew who I was and where I was going. I’m not sure anymore. All I know is that I have to make sure Lisa survives this next six months.”

Pursing her lips, Penny became sober. “You take care of
yourself
first,
cara
, then the others. You’re a natural mother by instinct—always putting that squad of yours first like they were your children. Did you ever stop to think that you might not be there to do it if you don’t take care of number one? Lisa will survive. She’s got spunk.”

“She’s idealistic as hell and she’s going to hit a brick wall when she gets over there.” Cathy frowned. “And I’m worried what will happen after that. “

“Lisa’s got more strength than you know. Trust me on that. Anyway, I think when this is all over, I’m going to find a nice Italian man for you. They know how to treat a woman right. And that’s what you need—a little care, a little fussing over and plenty of love.”

They both laughed and Penny paused to light another cigarette.

“What you need is a brood of bambinos,” Penny continued, looking Cathy over fondly. “Tell me, what are you going to do when you get out of the Marine Corps?”

“Go back and finish up my degree and become an R.N.”

“Ah, a nurse. A respectable profession. Very good,” she praised.

Cathy gave her a shy smile. “I want to work in obstetrics. Do you know, when I worked as a paramedic, I helped deliver three babies? I think that’s what made me decide on that field.” Her voice took on a note of animation and excitement. “I mean, to catch that baby coming out of its mother, hold it and feel its first breath in your hands is such a natural high, Penny. I felt reborn every time it happened. It’s a miracle.”

Penny patted Cathy on the shoulder. “All of life is a miracle,
cara
.”

Cathy abruptly lost her smile. “A miracle? Hardly.”

“Hey,” Penny said, swiftly changing the subject, “did you hear? We have to be at next week’s press conference?”

Cathy groaned. “Don’t remind me! I’ve never been to one in my entire life.”

“I’ve been to three,” Penny laughed. “They’re not so bad. Usually we get free eats.”

With a shake of her head Cathy muttered, “I’m scared to death I’ll say the wrong thing and Lane will be pissed off at me. I don’t need that hanging over my head before we go to Thailand.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine,” Penny said.

THE PRESS conference came faster than Cathy would have liked. There was almost a carnival-like atmosphere at the main staging area of Camp Pendleton. Cathy had never seen so many press or media people assembled into one place. Television and video cameras sat on tripods or were seen riding around on the shoulders of their human pack animals. Huge vans with satellite dishes crowded together. Cathy sat up on the long, gaily decorated podium with six other women, including Penny Amato. Major Lane, at the center of the group, smiling confidently and looking trim in her pale green summer Marine Corps uniform, seemed to enjoy the drama. Her hair, although short, was extremely feminine. She even wore a hint of makeup, which surprised Cathy. At the barracks, no one wore anything to suggest femininity. Of course, this was Cathy’s first press conference, and she was fascinated with how the major adroitly choreographed the milling crowd of some three hundred media people crammed into the auditorium-like room into order. Major Lane began the news conference on time. The questions had been an avalanche of reporters shouting and calling her name. The first half hour centered on Lane. Cathy watched as individual reporters began to choose some of the enlisted women and fire questions at them. No one chose her, thank God.

“Major Lane!” a television reporter yelled.

“Yes, Ken?”

“I’d like to address the next question to Corporal Cathy Fremont.” The good-looking blond newsman held up a piece of paper from the distributed press pack. “She’s supposed to be your best marksman…er, markswoman.”

There were titters from the audience.

Ken smiled his thousand-megawatt smile in apology to Louise, who took his error with grace. “Anyway, I’d like her to step forward to the podium.”

“Of course.” Louise turned and motioned for Fremont to take over. “Corporal Fremont?”

Despite an instant cold sweat, Cathy rose in one fluid motion, presenting a commanding figure herself in her starched utilities and polished black combat boots. Flashes from cameras and the glare of a dozen television and video cameras put her off balance. Cathy gripped the sides of the podium, her expression closed and measured.

“Yes, sir?” Thank God, her voice wasn’t wobbling.

“Corporal Fremont, Major Lane has been showing us your stats for the last three months. She says you’re the best of all her markswomen. Can you tell us
why
you joined the WLF? Was it to find a niche to use your obvious talents with a rifle? Doesn’t killing bother you?”

Louise shot her a discreet look from where she was sitting alongside the podium. She saw Fremont’s face lose color. Damn her, if Cathy said one negative thing, she’d have her ass. Louise took a deep breath, praying that Kay had warned Fremont to watch her conduct at the conference.

“I joined for three reasons, sir. First, my best friend, Private first class Lisa Gardner, wanted to take part of the WLF. Second, I felt that my knowledge of game hunting might be beneficial in helping to keep the other women safer. I’m primarily a person who’s good at taking care of others and I like that role. And, most importantly, I believe there is a type of woman who has combat capability providing she can handle the physical demands of it. If a woman wants to volunteer for combat, no matter if on land, sea or air, I see no reason for her to be barred from it as a career path.”

Cathy took a deep breath, her fingers digging into the podium’s surface. “As to your second question, I’ve handled pistols and rifles from my teenage years. I wasn’t particularly looking for a career that would include them.” Cathy swallowed again, feeling sweat running from beneath her armpits. “I can’t answer for anyone else here, but killing for the pure pleasure of killing would bother me.”

“Yes, but you’re going to kill Laotians very soon,” Ken pointed out.

“I’m responsible for the safety and effectiveness of my squad, sir,” Cathy replied evenly. “My first priority is to the women under my command. I’ll do whatever I have to so they come home alive after our tour in Thailand.”

“It says in your bio that you were a paramedic before joining and you’re working your way to a degree as an R.N.,” a red-haired woman reporter shouted before the first newsman could continue. “How can you consider killing a human being on one hand, when you claim you want to save lives as a nurse?”