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The buildings were just a little shabbier, houses more crammed together. Restaurants were fewer and the cars parked on the street were changing from ridiculously expensive to something that the average man might be able to afford.
His phone rang as he approached the clinic. He hadn’t thought to check what the hours of the clinic were but as the lights gleamed in the distance it was clear that people were still inside.
He glanced at the screen as he pulled the phone from his pocket.
Gibbs.
His breath caught in his throat.
His finger paused over the green light. It would be so easy to push the phone back in his pocket and ignore the call.
It would be even easier to answer and just automatically say yes to the next mission. That’s what he’d always done before.
After his panic attack last night he’d more or less left himself open to scrutiny by Gabrielle. She would ask. She would pry. She would try to fix him.
In a way it was ironic. He’d come to Mirinez to support her. To help her in a difficult situation. He didn’t like it when things were reversed.
He could jump on a plane right now and be in another country in a matter of hours. Forget about all of this. Pretend it had never happened.
His footsteps slowed as he pressed answer and put the phone to his ear. ‘Gibbs, it’s Sullivan. What is it this time?’
‘Sullivan, it’s great to get you. Listen, I know you’re just back but I’m a man short for a specialist mission in Syria. We need an experienced surgeon and your language skills would be a huge bonus.’
Sullivan could feel an uncomfortable prickle on his skin, like a million little insects crawling all over him. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, his mind spinning.
Yes, yes, of course I’ll go. It’s just one more mission. I’m needed. I can make a difference.
A bead of sweat ran down his brow. He wiped it away angrily.
I can sort this other stuff out later. I’ll take a proper break after the next mission. I’ll take some time away then. I’ve lasted this long.
‘So you would leave probably some time in the next twenty-four hours. No need to ask where you are. I’ve seen you in the press. Such a shame about Gabrielle. We hate to lose her. She’s one of the best doctors we’ve got for TB. I’ll need to find about flights from Mirinez. What’s the name of the airport there?’
He stopped walking. He couldn’t breathe now. He wasn’t having another panic attack, but saying no just wasn’t in his blood—not in his nature.
He tried to breathe out, to get rid of the choked feeling in his throat. His first thought had been that his father would never say no to a mission. He may not have been a doctor but as a commander, captain, then an admiral the US military had been in his blood.
He’d already stopped walking but now his feet were rooted to the ground. A cold breeze swept over him, chilling him more than it should.
But his father had said no. Of course he had. When his mother had died his father had refused to be stationed anywhere without his son. It just hadn’t really occurred to him before now what his father might actually have said no to.
Gibbs was still talking incessantly. ‘Sullivan? Sullivan? Have we got a bad signal?’
Sullivan sucked in a deep breath. ‘No.’
‘No? You can hear me?’
‘No, we don’t have a bad signal. And, no, I’m sorry, I can’t come. I’m not available.’
‘You’re not? But...’ Gibbs sounded so stunned he just stopped in mid-sentence.
Sullivan still really, really wanted to say yes but he kept talking. ‘Sorry, Gibbs. I’ve worked for almost three straight years. I need some time off. I need a break. I have a few things to sort out. I’ll get back in touch with you when I’m ready to come back.’ He closed his eyes as he kept talking. ‘I will come back. I want to. I’ll let you know when.’
He pulled the phone away from his ear and ended the call. He wasn’t quite sure what else Gibbs would have said, but he knew he didn’t need to hear it. He could claim a poor signal at a later date if need be.
What was important was he’d said no.
He stared at the phone for a second, then pressed the off switch. His hand gave the slightest shake. The urge to phone back was strong.
He looked over at the lights on in the clinic. He could see lots of people through the windows. Was the clinic usually this busy at night?
He strode across the road. He’d talk to Gabrielle soon. He’d tell her what he’d done, then figure out what came next.
For now, there were patients. And he was a doctor.
* * *
The waiting room was packed. She had two nurses working with her at the clinic. They were used to being here—she wasn’t. The equipment in the community clinic was embarrassing, some so old it was falling apart. The prescription medicine cabinet only had the bare essentials. The computer system was antiquated. All things she would deal with.
It seemed that Sullivan had already had these thoughts. She’d found a list he’d started in the room he’d been working in.
It was long.
She’d worked in countries all over the world with less-than-perfect equipment—she just hadn’t expected to find it here in Mirinez. A luxurious tax haven.
Her desk was covered with mounds of paper. ‘What on earth are you doing, and who are all these patients?’
Sullivan was standing in the doorway, pointing out to the waiting room full of patients.
She ran her fingers through her hair. It had long escaped from the ponytail she’d tied on top of her head. She sighed and gave her eyes a rub. She was going to ask him for help. She had to. But was that fair?
‘The case you thought was TB?’
He nodded as he walked across the room and stood at the other side of the desk.
She nodded her head. ‘Oh, it’s definitely TB. But when I took a history I realised I’d just opened a can of worms. I’ve found another five definite.’ She rummaged through her paperwork. ‘Twelve probable.’ She held up her hand again. ‘And about another twenty still to review.’
Her phone buzzed and she ignored it. He must have caught the expression on her face. ‘Something else going on?’
She couldn’t. She just couldn’t tell him that. Probably because if he asked her a single question about her brother she was likely to dissolve into floods of tears. She had to be strong. She had to keep on top of things. How could she help Sullivan if she couldn’t control her emotions?
She shook her head. ‘Nothing I can’t deal with.’
He picked up some of the paperwork. ‘What do you need?’
Everything about this was wrong. That was the question that she should be asking him right now, not the other way about. But what was worse was that she had to accept his help, even though she knew he needed help himself.
‘Patient histories. Detailed patient histories. Chest X-rays read. Chests sounded. Treatment decisions—and maybe even a few admissions to hospital.’
She winced. ‘My language skills haven’t exactly helped. My Italian just isn’t good enough. I don’t speak Greek at all. As for Japanese? I just don’t have a clue.’ She was embarrassed to admit it. ‘I’ve got one of the security guards out there, taking a history, because he knows a bit of Greek.’
Sullivan just gave a nod. But something was different. She could tell. When he’d been thrown into the breach in Narumba, into an area he’d been totally unfamiliar with, he’d been enthusiastic and motivated for the task. He hadn’t worried about being a fish out of water. He’d just got on with things.
This time he just looked resigned to the fact he had to help. There wasn’t the passion in his eyes. There wasn’t the same cheeky glimmer.
She stood up and walked over, placing her hands
on his chest.
‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m putting you in this position today. I know this isn’t a good time.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he snapped, then visibly winced at his own words and stepped back.
He looked wounded. ‘Do you think I’m not capable of doing the job?’
She shook her head fiercely. ‘Of course I don’t. You’re one of the best doctors I’ve ever worked with.’ She couldn’t hide the passion in her voice. She looked into his hurt pale green eyes. All she wanted to do was pull him closer, to wrap her arms around his neck and feel his heartbeat next to hers.
She lowered her voice. ‘I want to keep working with you, Sullivan. I hope to keep working with you for a very long time.’
Her voice was trembling. It felt as if she was wearing her heart on her sleeve.
His gaze locked with hers. She stopped breathing. She just didn’t know what would come next.
Her phone buzzed again and she could almost see the shutters coming down in his eyes. He picked up a pile of the paperwork. ‘Let me deal with the Italian, Greek and Japanese patients. The histories and exams won’t take long. I’ll let you know if I have any queries or want to admit someone.’
The phone buzzing was incessant. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to go away.
He frowned. ‘Is there something else?’
