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Chapter 23
“Jase,” Laila screamed, rushing to get back down the stairs.
The Marine who’d been directing the boarding caught her arm and yanked her back into the plane. As she struggled against his hold, she screamed, “No! Let me go! I need to get to Jase!”
The Marine wrapped an arm around her waist and carried her, struggling, to the passenger area.
As she twisted against his hold, he said, “I can’t let you off the plane.” Sympathy filled his voice, but he tightened his grip on her. “You need to take a seat and fasten your seatbelt. Please, Laila,” he said quietly.
Through the small window beside her seat, she saw Jase, still sprawled on the stairs.
The Marine handed her over to the attendant, who barred her way as she tried to follow the Marine. He ran toward the front of the plane and down to Jase on the stairs. As Laila watched, he pulled off his belt and cinched it high on Jase’s left thigh.
The door slammed shut, the stairs with Jase lying on them were pushed away from the plane, and moments later the plane rolled down the runway.
“No!” Laila howled. “Please let me out. I need to go to Jase.”
One of the pilots appeared from the cockpit and gripped her arm. “I understand you’re upset, Ma’am, but we need to leave. I have clearance, and if we don’t go now, I’m not sure when we’ll get out. With the Taliban closing in on Kabul, all those people are desperate to leave. So stay in your seat. Please.”
As the plane gathered speed away from Jase, Laila stared out the window as he got smaller and smaller. He was moving, at least. He’d rolled onto his side, and blood continued to pour from his leg, although now it was a stream instead of a river.
The Marine who’d been on the plane squatted next to him. He appeared to be talking to Jase, and Jase was nodding. Laila swallowed and pressed closer to the window as Jase became an indistinct blur in the distance. Far away, Laila heard the wail of a siren.
As the plane turned and Laila lost sight of Jase, she pulled out her phone with shaking hands. Hit the speed dial for Mel.
“Laila,” Mel said. “What’s up?”
“Jase was shot,” Laila sobbed, her throat swelling. Swallowing the lump, she said, “Right in front of me. I was already on the plane, though, and they wouldn’t let me go to him.”
Mel sucked in a breath. “Where was he hit?”
“His leg, I think. Someone put a tourniquet around it.” She leaned forward, craning her neck, but she no longer could see him.
“They’ll get him away from the tarmac and take him to the infirmary,” Mel said, and her voice sounded too damn calm. Way steadier than Laila felt. “The docs will examine him. Stabilize him. They’ll get a trauma surgeon to do surgery, and once he’s stable, he’ll be medevac’d out of Afghanistan.”
“I need to get off this plane. I need to be there when he has surgery. Stay with him when he’s evacuated. Please, Mel,” she begged.
“Not going to happen,” Mel said gently. “But I’ll make sure you’re kept in the loop. I’ll keep you posted about the extent of his injuries.” She sighed. “That’s the best I can do, Laila.”
Laila felt the plane lift into the air. “We just took off,” she said, slumping in the seat. The crowds and Jase disappeared from view. “I’ll call you when we land wherever we’re landing so you can tell me what’s going on.”
“Yes, call me,” Mel said. “I’ll let you know. And I‘ll update you every step of the way.”
Laila curled in on herself. “Thanks, Mel.” She ended the call and tossed the phone onto her lap.
She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes to try and stop the tears, but they trickled down her cheeks. Silent sobs escaped, and she sat hunched over in her seat, unable to move. A flight attendant came down the aisle, offering drinks and snacks, and Laila ignored her. Didn’t look up when she returned to pick up the trash.
She had no idea how long she sat there, thinking about Jase and hoping they’d gotten him to the infirmary. Wondering why he’d called her name and started up the steps.
Hoping it was because he’d changed his mind about ending things with her.
As she stared down at her lap, watching tears drip onto her hands, a hard bump rocked the plane. When she looked up and out the window, she realized the plane had landed.
She stared at the desert surrounding the runway and wondered where they were. What would happen next. She closed her eyes. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Jase had been shot. All she could see was Jase lying on that staircase, blood pouring out of his leg and spilling onto the tarmac.
As the plane slowed, then stopped, she turned around to find all the Afghans staring at her. Nahid came forward and crouched beside her seat. Took her hand.
“I’m sure your man will be all right,” she said. “He was moving. It looked like he was shot in the leg. Legs can be fixed,” she said.
