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Olivia felt the same way, but there was no way they could change what was going on outside. For two hours, they monitored the patients and did what they could to keep everyone calm and comfortable.

Then the barrage stopped. It took Olivia a moment to realize what had happened. Her ears were so used to hearing the constant thrum of the Centurions blasting stuff out of the air that the lack of the sound was deafening. For the first time, her ears relaxed, and it almost hurt.

She looked at Baylee. There was a painful hope in the woman’s eyes, and she grinned. “Do you think we beat them and they’re giving up?”

Olivia sighed and shook her head. “Doubtful. I have a feeling they’re resupplying troops and reloading.”

Santana arrived to relieve Rune, and Jessie Plank arrived to relieve Olivia. They were running 18 hours on, and six hours off, so that three nurses overlapped, while one relaxed. Olivia wasn’t sure she’d be able to sleep, but it would be wise to try to get out of here and freshen up a little. She had layers of grime on her body, and even a cold shower might feel good right now. If the Taliban was taking a break, she was going to take advantage of it.

She and Rune walked out into the sunlight together a little hesitantly. They’d been inside the ward for so long. They walked to the right, toward the medical personnel tents.

“Guess I’ll see you in a few hours,” Rune murmured, hand on his arching back as he headed inside.

Olivia turned for the female tent, on the other side of the men’s tent. A few things had been destroyed around them, and smoke still billowed from the recovery tent when she looked back. It was quiet, though, comparatively. Trucks were speeding by as troops moved to reinforce their defenses or reload the Centurions. They used a massive amount of ammunition. Olivia wondered how much they had on the base, and if they had enough to last, but she was afraid to ask any of the men rushing by her.

Inside her tent, she crossed to her bunk and sank down. As if some internal switch had been flipped, her body melted in on itself and she fell over to the pillow, more tired than she could ever remember being. Within seconds, she was out.

Three hours later, she was proven correct, which didn’t make her happy. The Taliban attacked harder than ever, waking her out of a solid sleep. Her eyes were gritty, and her head throbbed as she regained consciousness. Blindly, she reached for her helmet, slapping it on her head, as she held her arms up protectively. Dust and debris were swirling in the tent, and she knew something big had happened. Men were screaming, and she feared the Taliban had broken through.

Pushing through her door, she ran to the medical tents, machine gun fire chasing her. It sounded so close. Marines scrambled around her, and one shoved her toward cover as another blast sounded.

Baylee was the first one she saw when she entered, and there was fear etched into the woman’s face. “Rex says they’ve broken through.”

No sooner had the words been spoken than a group of Taliban slammed through and into the space, firing their weapons wildly. Olivia cried out as she saw Marines and soldiers on stretchers being slaughtered, and she would have raced toward them if Baylee hadn’t grabbed her arm and dragged her to the floor. Olivia was in shock, and she slapped her hands over her ears, the ringing of the bullets in the enclosed space too much for her.

Baylee clung to her, and Olivia held her as tight as she could, until the shooting stopped. She was afraid to open her eyes. Afraid to see all the men that they’d worked so hard to save slaughtered like animals. There was moaning, but it was quickly snuffed out with more bullets.

Why? Why had this happened?

And why the hell was she over here, doing this job that the natives fought against?

All of those thoughts flashed through her brain as they tried to hide from their attackers. She knew it was just a matter of time, though, before they were found. It wasn’t like they were hiding behind anything, they were just huddled against the wall. They were literally sitting targets. The only ones on base at that moment with weapons were the Marines.

The shooting stopped, and she heard men laughing, which infuriated her. Rough hands grabbed her and stood her up, and Baylee as well. Olivia clamped her jaw and looked up.

The men were wearing masks, but it was obvious they were Taliban. Mismatched rifles, rough-hewn clothing, no uniforms. Two of the men standing before them wore traditional turbans, three of them wore mismatched hats. One didn’t wear anything at all on his head, and his face was clear of a mask, which startled her. Why wasn’t he wearing a damn mask? He stepped forward.

“If you don’t fight, you will not be hurt. You are medical personnel, yes?”

Olivia nodded her head automatically, stunned that the man had spoken perfect British English.

“Move over here,” the man directed, motioning them across the room with the end of his rifle.

Olivia silently cried as she looked at the surrounding horror. Men they had worked upon for hours and cared for had been slaughtered. The floor and walls were covered with dripping and oozing blood.

“Why do you cry? They were only suffering. They weren’t going to be leaving anyway,” the man said, shifting his rifle, nudging them toward the far wall.

“You bastards,” Baylee breathed. They still held each other, and Olivia could hear the anger in her voice, and feel the shaking in her body. “These men were all injured, and you slaughtered them. I suppose you think that makes you big men.”

The English speaker grinned at her, and his dark eyes went hard. In a flash, the butt of the rifle flashed out and struck Baylee in the mouth. She went down immediately, blood pouring from her nose and lips. Olivia kneeled down with her, holding her shoulders now as Baylee gagged and spit.

“You will live longer if you keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told,” the man warned.

Olivia grabbed a sheet that had only a little blood on it and held it to Baylee’s face, and they moved to the wall he directed. They sat when they were told to. And they stayed there, for hours, as they listened to other Marines and Army personnel being killed.

Olivia lost track of time as she sat there, wondering if the voices she heard crying out in pain were someone she knew. Occasionally, there was a spate of gunfire. The Taliban were torturing men, trying to get information from them. Twice they dragged beaten men in and flung them on a gurney. The man that spoke English would come in and order them to fix the man, and they would drag him out again once she and Baylee had cleaned wounds and repaired what they could. One man they brought in was Rex. They drug him to the gurney and shoved him onto it.

Baylee gasped as she leaned over him. He was bleeding from two bullet holes. One high through his upper shoulder, and the second through his thigh. Both wounds were messy, but not life-threatening. Baylee began to clean his wounds, and Olivia leaned over him. “Do you know what’s going on?”