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“Clown,” Spencer said, going into his bag, pulling out a pair. “I know it’s a chore, but try to keep your feet dry, best you can.”
Gus started tugging on the socks, wincing. He said, “I’ll do what I can, Doc, but Jesus, humping up and down these trails all day, crossing streams …”
“Yeah, well, do your best,” he said, packing up his gear. The three of them are in a fire hole, covered with sandbags and heavy logs, overseeing one of the trails leading up to the FOB. A fully automatic SAW—also known as the M249 light machine gun—was fastened to the rock wall, pointing out and down to the trail, with full magazines of 200 rounds of 5.56mm ammunition nearby.
“Thanks, Doc,” Liam said.
“House calls are what we do,” Spencer said. “Which reminds me. The Taliban are coming by for a raid later tonight.”
Gus said, “What, the ell-tee told you?”
“Nope,” Spencer said.
“First sergeant?” Liam asked.
“Nope.”
Gus said, “C’mon, who told you?”
Finished with his packing, Spencer sat up against one of the walls. “I’ll tell you, but don’t think I’m crazy.”
Liam said, “We won’t.”
Spencer sighed. “Well, it happened during medical school, and when I did residency. I always had this … feeling, or sense, that something was about to happen. A patient coding on my floor. The ER being swamped with victims from a multi-car crash. Some person sitting calm in the waiting area suddenly going berserk and taking down two security guards.”
Liam said, “That’s what you’re feeling now?”
“Oh, yeah,” Spencer said, his smile barely visible in the red light. “The T-man is coming here tonight. I can just feel it. So eyes open and don’t rack out. Call it extreme situational awareness or a seventh sense, I just know they’re coming.”
As Doc started to leave, Liam said, “Crap, Doc, why the hell are you out here anyway? You could be back in Chicago, working nine-to-five, sleeping in a nice safe bed every night.”
One last smile from Spencer, who said with an exaggerated drawl, “Cuz I love Amurrica, boys. Don’t you?”
As predicted, the Taliban struck an hour later.
Liam thinks,Situational awareness.
Possible seventh sense.
There’s no way on earth that an experienced soldier like Doc would allow himself to be ambushed.
Detective Mazzaglia says, “I’ve already asked Mrs. Webster, but do you know if Captain Webster has any enemies? We’re still regarding this as a robbery gone bad, but we have to consider all possibilities.”
Liam thinks,Sure, President Keegan Barrett, wanting to keep his mental state secret.
He says, “No, I can’t think of anyone.”
Liam goes to Miriam, holds both her hands, and says, “Is there anyone coming here to keep you and the kids company?”
A shaky nod. “My sisters are coming over, and Spencer’s parents … they’re trying to catch a flight out of Chicago tonight.”
He kisses the top of her head. “Miriam, I’m sorry, but I have to go … urgent business. But I promise I’ll come back as soon as possible.”
Her teary-eyed face looks hopeful. “Something to do with Spenny?”
With Detective Mazzaglia and the uniformed officer looking on, Liam needs to lie, as much as it hurts him.
“No, I’m sorry,” he says, “but I’ll be in touch. Honest.”
