If I Don't Ask, page 2
deserves five stars.
- CELEStial books Reviews
Other Bella Books by E. J. Noyes
Ask, Tell
Turbulence
Gold
Ask Me Again
Alone
If the Shoe Fits
Reaping the Benefits
Pas de deux
Go Around
About the Author
E. J. Noyes is an Australian transplanted to New Zealand,
which may be the awesomest thing to happen to her. She lives
with her wife, a needy cat and too many plants (and is
planning on getting more plants). When not indulging in her
love of reading and writing, E. J. argues with her hair and
pretends to be good at things.
Copyright © 2022 by E. J. Noyes
Bella Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 10543
Tallahassee, FL 32302
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in
writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses,
places, events and incidents are either the products of the
author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events
is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control
over and does not assume any responsibility for author or
third-party websites or their content.
First Edition - 2022
Editor: Cath Walker
Cover Designer: Kayla Mancuso
ISBN: 978-1-64247-391-9
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the
Internet or via any other means without the permission of the
publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase
only authorized print or electronic editions, and do not
participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted
materials.Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Acknowledgments
Book Number Ten. I never thought I’d say (or more
accurately, write) those words, but here we are. And what a
way to bring it about, coming full circle back to my debut,
Ask, Tell. This book has been in my brain from the moment I
started to think Ask, Tell might actually be A Book, but it
always felt a little like a silly, self-indulgent project. But with
everything swirling around us, I just really needed to spend
some time with fictional friends, and that’s exactly what
writing this book was like. I’m so fortunate that my readers
love my fictional friends too.
With every book I produce, I feel I thank the same people
over and over (and try to do it in a new and exciting way every
time, so sorry if I repeat myself…), but I really do have the
best small, tight-knit team around me, helping me make every
book the best it can be.
Kate, even when you were dealing with all your stuff, you
still found time for me and this book, and I will be eternally
grateful for your thoughts and your support throughout the
process.
Claire, I have some Faith…
Linda, Jessica, everyone at Bella – I still remember the
morning I got that email telling me Bella Books wanted to
publish Ask, Tell. I would never have imagined then that I’d
find such an amazing publishing family. Thank you all for
making the non-writing part of publishing work so easy.
Cath – double digits! I’ll let you blow out the birthday
candles for this one because you deserve all the cake. Thanks
for being the best editor a gal could ask for. So much of
editing is about trust, and I’m so grateful to have found an
editor I trust completely, even when I know those (word) cuts
are going to sting.
Pheebs. Heart emoji. In my very first book
acknowledgments ever (back when you were partner, not
wife), I said you’ve always felt like home to me. That
sentiment has never been truer than during this past year.
Home may have shifted, but what we share hasn’t. I know you
don’t read my book acknowledgments, so maybe next book
I’ll just say “Ta, babe” and leave it at that…
Author’s Note
The implementation (February 1994) and subsequent repeal
(September 2011) of the United States Military policy Don’t
Ask, Don’t Tell (DADT) plays an important role in LGBTQ+
history. As a blanket attempt to “fix” the problem of
homosexuality in the military by pretending it was okay to be
queer while serving—as long as you didn’t tell anyone—
DADT instead created a stifling environment for LGBTQ+
service personnel. They were still unable to serve openly and
were subject to the same disciplinary action as they had been
prior to the policy’s implementation. DADT was a harmful,
unnecessary
policy
that
achieved
nothing
except
discrimination and anguish, and continues to do so for those
who served under it.
When my debut novel, Ask, Tell, was published in 2017, I
never dreamed Sabine and Rebecca would become so
cherished among the sapphic fiction community. I also never
dreamed that I would write more than just that one book
featuring two of my favorite leading ladies, yet here we are
again, together, with their fourth— If I Don’t Ask.
Written from Rebecca’s point of view, If I Don’t Ask holds
everything I wish I could have included in Ask, Tell—if I’d
had endless page space and a better knowledge of writing craft
way back then. To those of you who have followed Sabine and
Rebecca all the way from Ask, Tell—welcome back. And to
everyone just joining them now—welcome.
CHAPTER ONE
FOB Atlantis Military Hospital, Paktika Province,
Afghanistan
January, 2007
The phone ringing was a welcome distraction, dragging my
thoughts away from my failure and the fact two members of
the unit were going home early from deployment. I snatched
up the handset and forced cheer I didn’t feel into my, “LTC
Rebecca Keane.”
The quiet buzzing static and few seconds of delay indicated
the call originated from the States, rather than another forward
operating base. Finally, a familiar male voice came through.
“Rebecca, Bill Linkfield. How are you?”
My forced cheer turned unforced. “Bill,” I said warmly.
“Good to hear from you. I’m doing well. They finally fixed the
heating in my office, so things are looking up.” January in
Afghanistan—we were lucky to hit the midthirties during the
day, and I’d been shivering through paperwork for the past
week.
“Lucky you. Took them almost three weeks to fix my air-
conditioning last time I was over there.”
“I think I’d rather have no heat than no cooling.”
“Same,” he agreed. “Now I’m just calling with some good
news. I have replacement surgeons for you, should be there
late tomorrow.”
I leaned into my chair, arching my back for a satisfying
stretch. “Wonderful, thank you. What can you tell me about
them?”
“Both general surgeons, trauma subspecialty.” Bill paused,
and his next words were steeped in apology. “And I’m sorry,
but they’re also fresh out of commissioned officer training.
Yours is their first unit assignment. They’ll stay with you and
rotate out in July, then continue on as fully integrated
members.”
A shortened first deployment. Lucky people. I smiled at
Bill’s apologetic tone. “You should know by now that fresh is
my favorite.” I found genuine joy in teaching newly
commissioned officers the ins and outs of how the Army
operated in-theater overseas. “Thanks for getting me
replacements so quickly.”
“My pleasure. Hell of a thing to happen during your first
deployment as an LTC.”
“You’re telling me.” There was no malice or accusation in
Bill’s statement, so I had no anxiety about my relatively new
promotion to lieutenant colonel. I glanced at the papers on my
desk which would send two good and capable surgeons home.
Adultery and pregnancy. A double whammy. “Here’s hoping it
never happens again.”
“You had The Talk with the rest of them yet?” There was
laughter in the question.
“I have. After we already had it before we left for this
deployment. And again, it was like giving a sex talk to a group
of middle-schoolers instead of a group of educated adults. A
little snickering, lots of squirming and avoiding eye contact.
I’m pretty sure they realized ‘Please remember you’re not
supposed to be having sex with other people while you’re on
deployment’ was related to Riley and Evans and their
impending bundle of joy.”
Bill grunted. “No matter how much you tell ’em, some of
’em can’t be helped. Now their careers will suffer. Damned
fools.”
“I know, but I still think it’s horrible. She seemed
overjoyed to be pregnant and I’m happy for her in that regard.
And not to mention she had no idea he’s married. But the fact
is he committed adultery, so he has to go, and she’s pregnant,
so she has to go. And even if I could overlook the fact she’s
not due to give birth for another five months, they still
engaged in a handful of prohibited activities under General
Order Number One and leaving them in the unit could be bad
for morale. So now I have to integrate new members into an
established team.” I still wasn’t sure that was any better for
morale.
“If anyone can do it, Rebecca, you can,” he said. There was
a hint of cheerleader in his voice.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“My pleasure. The helo is due at Atlantis around fourteen-
hundred tomorrow, assuming there’s no holdups.”
There usually were holdups organizing a huge planeload of
cargo and people to travel from the USA to Afghanistan.
“Understood. And thanks again for getting me replacements so
fast.”
His laugh sounded almost devious. “Don’t thank me yet. I
have a feeling one of them is gonna grind your gears.”
I’d yet to meet a subordinate that annoyed me to the point
of frustration, and the thought that I’d have one now made me
smile. “Oh? Which one?”
“Name’s Fleischer. If type A, obsessive-compulsive
perfectionists had an overlord, she’d be it.”
I laughed at the visual. The unit was full of perfectionists—
not a bad trait to have in Med Corps personnel. “Surely she
can’t be that bad.”
“I don’t think bad is the right adjective,” he mused. “She’s
good, almost too good. I read her file from Officer Candidate
School and she did everything perfectly. Everything. The OCS
trainers said she made them feel like they were recruits who
couldn’t perform the most basic tasks.”
My mirth melted away. “Is she insubordinate?”
Perfectionism was fine, insubordination was not.
He hastened to backtrack. “Oh no, not at all. Model soldier
and model surgeon too, according to everyone who’s worked
with her. Model everything. You might have to squash her
down a little, put her in her place before she starts pushing
against the way things are done.”
I bristled at the insinuation that putting subordinates down
“in their place” was the best way to make them realize how the
Army worked. That didn’t breed good leaders. It only bred
contempt for the chain of command. I moderated my response.
“I try not to squash anyone. But thanks for the heads-up.”
“You’re welcome. Their electronic files will be through
soon and you can see for yourself.” The sound of his hand
slapping the desk carried through the line. “Right, I have a
meeting to sleep through. I think you’ve got all you need. Let
me know how they get on.”
“Will do. And thanks again for your efficiency. It’ll give
me time to integrate them before things get busy.”
Bill snorted a laugh. “Don’t thank me yet, Rebecca. Stay in
touch.”
I returned to my paperwork and my feeling of having failed
the team. Neither was pleasant. I rolled my shoulders, trying to
push the unhelpful sensations aside. What had happened was
over and done. I couldn’t babysit the unit 24/7, and Riley and
Evans were adults capable of making their own decisions,
even if they were stupid ones. I’d just signed the forms
authorizing their departure when an email pinged cheerfully
into my inbox. Time to turn my focus from the old to the new.
I skimmed the body of the email and noted the names of
my new team members. Captain Mitchell Boyd and Captain
Sabine Fleischer, both thirty-three. Young, but their medical
education and training were top-notch. As I read their files I
noted not a single black mark. Not even a gray mark. They
looked fit and healthy, and also like they’d been ripped from
an Army recruitment brochure. Mitchell Boyd was All-
American handsome—tanned, with a square jaw, piercing
bright blue eyes and a nose that looked like it’d been broken in
the past, but which only seemed to add to his rugged
masculinity.
And then there was Sabine Fleischer… I stared for far
longer than necessary. Her face was angular without being
harsh, olive skin darkened by a tan, dark hair and eyes,
cheekbones for days, and a laughing, sensual mouth that
looked like it’d barely kept itself from smiling in her ID
photograph. The longer I studied her, the more I became aware
of a sensation I hadn’t felt for well over a decade. A sensation
I didn’t want to feel.
Attraction.
Goddammit. I couldn’t afford to feel that for anyone,
especially not a fellow service member and especially not
someone under my command. I could only hope her
personality was as unappealing as her exterior was appealing.
Maybe Bill would be right, and she’d grind my gears. I stared
at the photograph again. There was something in that face that
made me certain she wouldn’t. Seriousness layered over the
top of amusement layered over the top of an almost earnest,
puppy-like expression. Sabine Fleischer looked like she’d turn
herself inside out to perform a task perfectly and in exactly the
way you wanted it done. Then ask you if she could do
anything else for you. And smile the whole time.
I sighed and closed the email. She would do the opposite of
grind my gears. I just knew it.
* * *
A little before 1500 the next day, the deep rotor sound of a
Black Hawk announced the imminent arrival of my new team
members. Though I’d assigned Amy Peterson and Bobby
Rodriguez—the two most outgoing, friendly personalities in
the unit—to show Boyd and Fleischer around, they were
nowhere in sight when I went to meet the transport.
The base was fairly quiet—or boring, depending on how
you chose to look at it—and a helo that wasn’t one of the Pave
Hawks used by Pararescue who delivered our casualties had
drawn the attention of half the FOB. People milled about,
trying to seem like they just happened to be outside, moving
from Point A to B, not like they wanted to catch a glimpse of
the new arrivals. Welcome to Forward Operating Base
Atlantis, Captains Boyd and Fleischer.
I strolled briskly through the cold, rotor-noisy air, noting
they had already dragged their bags from the helo and set them
down on the dusty, rocky ground away from the aircraft. Both
looked as if they were waiting for someone to tell them what
to do and where to go. As I walked closer, I sized them up.
Mitchell Boyd would be easily six-one, if not more, and
Sabine Fleischer looked to be a few inches taller than my five-
five.
At my approach, they moved beside their bags and stood to
attention. Almost in unison, they saluted and the moment I’d
returned it, I smiled and raised my voice over the declining
rotor noise. “At ease.” I took my time to study them and tried
not to let my gaze linger on Sabine Fleischer, whose dark eyes
- CELEStial books Reviews
Other Bella Books by E. J. Noyes
Ask, Tell
Turbulence
Gold
Ask Me Again
Alone
If the Shoe Fits
Reaping the Benefits
Pas de deux
Go Around
About the Author
E. J. Noyes is an Australian transplanted to New Zealand,
which may be the awesomest thing to happen to her. She lives
with her wife, a needy cat and too many plants (and is
planning on getting more plants). When not indulging in her
love of reading and writing, E. J. argues with her hair and
pretends to be good at things.
Copyright © 2022 by E. J. Noyes
Bella Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 10543
Tallahassee, FL 32302
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in
writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses,
places, events and incidents are either the products of the
author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events
is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control
over and does not assume any responsibility for author or
third-party websites or their content.
First Edition - 2022
Editor: Cath Walker
Cover Designer: Kayla Mancuso
ISBN: 978-1-64247-391-9
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the
Internet or via any other means without the permission of the
publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase
only authorized print or electronic editions, and do not
participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted
materials.Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Acknowledgments
Book Number Ten. I never thought I’d say (or more
accurately, write) those words, but here we are. And what a
way to bring it about, coming full circle back to my debut,
Ask, Tell. This book has been in my brain from the moment I
started to think Ask, Tell might actually be A Book, but it
always felt a little like a silly, self-indulgent project. But with
everything swirling around us, I just really needed to spend
some time with fictional friends, and that’s exactly what
writing this book was like. I’m so fortunate that my readers
love my fictional friends too.
With every book I produce, I feel I thank the same people
over and over (and try to do it in a new and exciting way every
time, so sorry if I repeat myself…), but I really do have the
best small, tight-knit team around me, helping me make every
book the best it can be.
Kate, even when you were dealing with all your stuff, you
still found time for me and this book, and I will be eternally
grateful for your thoughts and your support throughout the
process.
Claire, I have some Faith…
Linda, Jessica, everyone at Bella – I still remember the
morning I got that email telling me Bella Books wanted to
publish Ask, Tell. I would never have imagined then that I’d
find such an amazing publishing family. Thank you all for
making the non-writing part of publishing work so easy.
Cath – double digits! I’ll let you blow out the birthday
candles for this one because you deserve all the cake. Thanks
for being the best editor a gal could ask for. So much of
editing is about trust, and I’m so grateful to have found an
editor I trust completely, even when I know those (word) cuts
are going to sting.
Pheebs. Heart emoji. In my very first book
acknowledgments ever (back when you were partner, not
wife), I said you’ve always felt like home to me. That
sentiment has never been truer than during this past year.
Home may have shifted, but what we share hasn’t. I know you
don’t read my book acknowledgments, so maybe next book
I’ll just say “Ta, babe” and leave it at that…
Author’s Note
The implementation (February 1994) and subsequent repeal
(September 2011) of the United States Military policy Don’t
Ask, Don’t Tell (DADT) plays an important role in LGBTQ+
history. As a blanket attempt to “fix” the problem of
homosexuality in the military by pretending it was okay to be
queer while serving—as long as you didn’t tell anyone—
DADT instead created a stifling environment for LGBTQ+
service personnel. They were still unable to serve openly and
were subject to the same disciplinary action as they had been
prior to the policy’s implementation. DADT was a harmful,
unnecessary
policy
that
achieved
nothing
except
discrimination and anguish, and continues to do so for those
who served under it.
When my debut novel, Ask, Tell, was published in 2017, I
never dreamed Sabine and Rebecca would become so
cherished among the sapphic fiction community. I also never
dreamed that I would write more than just that one book
featuring two of my favorite leading ladies, yet here we are
again, together, with their fourth— If I Don’t Ask.
Written from Rebecca’s point of view, If I Don’t Ask holds
everything I wish I could have included in Ask, Tell—if I’d
had endless page space and a better knowledge of writing craft
way back then. To those of you who have followed Sabine and
Rebecca all the way from Ask, Tell—welcome back. And to
everyone just joining them now—welcome.
CHAPTER ONE
FOB Atlantis Military Hospital, Paktika Province,
Afghanistan
January, 2007
The phone ringing was a welcome distraction, dragging my
thoughts away from my failure and the fact two members of
the unit were going home early from deployment. I snatched
up the handset and forced cheer I didn’t feel into my, “LTC
Rebecca Keane.”
The quiet buzzing static and few seconds of delay indicated
the call originated from the States, rather than another forward
operating base. Finally, a familiar male voice came through.
“Rebecca, Bill Linkfield. How are you?”
My forced cheer turned unforced. “Bill,” I said warmly.
“Good to hear from you. I’m doing well. They finally fixed the
heating in my office, so things are looking up.” January in
Afghanistan—we were lucky to hit the midthirties during the
day, and I’d been shivering through paperwork for the past
week.
“Lucky you. Took them almost three weeks to fix my air-
conditioning last time I was over there.”
“I think I’d rather have no heat than no cooling.”
“Same,” he agreed. “Now I’m just calling with some good
news. I have replacement surgeons for you, should be there
late tomorrow.”
I leaned into my chair, arching my back for a satisfying
stretch. “Wonderful, thank you. What can you tell me about
them?”
“Both general surgeons, trauma subspecialty.” Bill paused,
and his next words were steeped in apology. “And I’m sorry,
but they’re also fresh out of commissioned officer training.
Yours is their first unit assignment. They’ll stay with you and
rotate out in July, then continue on as fully integrated
members.”
A shortened first deployment. Lucky people. I smiled at
Bill’s apologetic tone. “You should know by now that fresh is
my favorite.” I found genuine joy in teaching newly
commissioned officers the ins and outs of how the Army
operated in-theater overseas. “Thanks for getting me
replacements so quickly.”
“My pleasure. Hell of a thing to happen during your first
deployment as an LTC.”
“You’re telling me.” There was no malice or accusation in
Bill’s statement, so I had no anxiety about my relatively new
promotion to lieutenant colonel. I glanced at the papers on my
desk which would send two good and capable surgeons home.
Adultery and pregnancy. A double whammy. “Here’s hoping it
never happens again.”
“You had The Talk with the rest of them yet?” There was
laughter in the question.
“I have. After we already had it before we left for this
deployment. And again, it was like giving a sex talk to a group
of middle-schoolers instead of a group of educated adults. A
little snickering, lots of squirming and avoiding eye contact.
I’m pretty sure they realized ‘Please remember you’re not
supposed to be having sex with other people while you’re on
deployment’ was related to Riley and Evans and their
impending bundle of joy.”
Bill grunted. “No matter how much you tell ’em, some of
’em can’t be helped. Now their careers will suffer. Damned
fools.”
“I know, but I still think it’s horrible. She seemed
overjoyed to be pregnant and I’m happy for her in that regard.
And not to mention she had no idea he’s married. But the fact
is he committed adultery, so he has to go, and she’s pregnant,
so she has to go. And even if I could overlook the fact she’s
not due to give birth for another five months, they still
engaged in a handful of prohibited activities under General
Order Number One and leaving them in the unit could be bad
for morale. So now I have to integrate new members into an
established team.” I still wasn’t sure that was any better for
morale.
“If anyone can do it, Rebecca, you can,” he said. There was
a hint of cheerleader in his voice.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“My pleasure. The helo is due at Atlantis around fourteen-
hundred tomorrow, assuming there’s no holdups.”
There usually were holdups organizing a huge planeload of
cargo and people to travel from the USA to Afghanistan.
“Understood. And thanks again for getting me replacements so
fast.”
His laugh sounded almost devious. “Don’t thank me yet. I
have a feeling one of them is gonna grind your gears.”
I’d yet to meet a subordinate that annoyed me to the point
of frustration, and the thought that I’d have one now made me
smile. “Oh? Which one?”
“Name’s Fleischer. If type A, obsessive-compulsive
perfectionists had an overlord, she’d be it.”
I laughed at the visual. The unit was full of perfectionists—
not a bad trait to have in Med Corps personnel. “Surely she
can’t be that bad.”
“I don’t think bad is the right adjective,” he mused. “She’s
good, almost too good. I read her file from Officer Candidate
School and she did everything perfectly. Everything. The OCS
trainers said she made them feel like they were recruits who
couldn’t perform the most basic tasks.”
My mirth melted away. “Is she insubordinate?”
Perfectionism was fine, insubordination was not.
He hastened to backtrack. “Oh no, not at all. Model soldier
and model surgeon too, according to everyone who’s worked
with her. Model everything. You might have to squash her
down a little, put her in her place before she starts pushing
against the way things are done.”
I bristled at the insinuation that putting subordinates down
“in their place” was the best way to make them realize how the
Army worked. That didn’t breed good leaders. It only bred
contempt for the chain of command. I moderated my response.
“I try not to squash anyone. But thanks for the heads-up.”
“You’re welcome. Their electronic files will be through
soon and you can see for yourself.” The sound of his hand
slapping the desk carried through the line. “Right, I have a
meeting to sleep through. I think you’ve got all you need. Let
me know how they get on.”
“Will do. And thanks again for your efficiency. It’ll give
me time to integrate them before things get busy.”
Bill snorted a laugh. “Don’t thank me yet, Rebecca. Stay in
touch.”
I returned to my paperwork and my feeling of having failed
the team. Neither was pleasant. I rolled my shoulders, trying to
push the unhelpful sensations aside. What had happened was
over and done. I couldn’t babysit the unit 24/7, and Riley and
Evans were adults capable of making their own decisions,
even if they were stupid ones. I’d just signed the forms
authorizing their departure when an email pinged cheerfully
into my inbox. Time to turn my focus from the old to the new.
I skimmed the body of the email and noted the names of
my new team members. Captain Mitchell Boyd and Captain
Sabine Fleischer, both thirty-three. Young, but their medical
education and training were top-notch. As I read their files I
noted not a single black mark. Not even a gray mark. They
looked fit and healthy, and also like they’d been ripped from
an Army recruitment brochure. Mitchell Boyd was All-
American handsome—tanned, with a square jaw, piercing
bright blue eyes and a nose that looked like it’d been broken in
the past, but which only seemed to add to his rugged
masculinity.
And then there was Sabine Fleischer… I stared for far
longer than necessary. Her face was angular without being
harsh, olive skin darkened by a tan, dark hair and eyes,
cheekbones for days, and a laughing, sensual mouth that
looked like it’d barely kept itself from smiling in her ID
photograph. The longer I studied her, the more I became aware
of a sensation I hadn’t felt for well over a decade. A sensation
I didn’t want to feel.
Attraction.
Goddammit. I couldn’t afford to feel that for anyone,
especially not a fellow service member and especially not
someone under my command. I could only hope her
personality was as unappealing as her exterior was appealing.
Maybe Bill would be right, and she’d grind my gears. I stared
at the photograph again. There was something in that face that
made me certain she wouldn’t. Seriousness layered over the
top of amusement layered over the top of an almost earnest,
puppy-like expression. Sabine Fleischer looked like she’d turn
herself inside out to perform a task perfectly and in exactly the
way you wanted it done. Then ask you if she could do
anything else for you. And smile the whole time.
I sighed and closed the email. She would do the opposite of
grind my gears. I just knew it.
* * *
A little before 1500 the next day, the deep rotor sound of a
Black Hawk announced the imminent arrival of my new team
members. Though I’d assigned Amy Peterson and Bobby
Rodriguez—the two most outgoing, friendly personalities in
the unit—to show Boyd and Fleischer around, they were
nowhere in sight when I went to meet the transport.
The base was fairly quiet—or boring, depending on how
you chose to look at it—and a helo that wasn’t one of the Pave
Hawks used by Pararescue who delivered our casualties had
drawn the attention of half the FOB. People milled about,
trying to seem like they just happened to be outside, moving
from Point A to B, not like they wanted to catch a glimpse of
the new arrivals. Welcome to Forward Operating Base
Atlantis, Captains Boyd and Fleischer.
I strolled briskly through the cold, rotor-noisy air, noting
they had already dragged their bags from the helo and set them
down on the dusty, rocky ground away from the aircraft. Both
looked as if they were waiting for someone to tell them what
to do and where to go. As I walked closer, I sized them up.
Mitchell Boyd would be easily six-one, if not more, and
Sabine Fleischer looked to be a few inches taller than my five-
five.
At my approach, they moved beside their bags and stood to
attention. Almost in unison, they saluted and the moment I’d
returned it, I smiled and raised my voice over the declining
rotor noise. “At ease.” I took my time to study them and tried
not to let my gaze linger on Sabine Fleischer, whose dark eyes
