"Oh boy." He said and stood up. Mark looked at him and pointed his fingers like a gun and put them up to his own
head to make a silent point. Hector made a face and flipped him the bird as he followed the doctor out.
"Sure is a nice night. Don't see too many nights like this where I come from, at least not in the summer." He said
casually as he walked. "Maybe its because we have more trees and we can't see the sky so much."
Now that she realized the stories were nothing more than a trick to gain trust, she shook her head.
"Please." She raised a slim hand. She'd fallen into that trap once and saw no reason to continually have to skirt it now.
Besides - it hurt a bit that the only reason he'd charmed the children was so their parents wouldn't protest his
presence. She understood it. It was just another weapon in his war. But she couldn't help how disappointing and cold it
felt. "I really don't need stories to soften me up."
She stopped walking as she said it, far enough from the tent and slightly in the shadow of another one that held
nothing with ears. He could still see the clinic but they could talk without worry here. Her voice was still low though as
she met his eyes.
"So what are you honestly doing here tonight?" She suspected she knew but if he articulated it she'd be better able to
explain why it was hardly necessary.
"Okay." Hector said and stopped to look at her. "Here's a story for you. I was walking in one of the villages last week.
Just come from securing the food lines, making sure the militias and war lords didn't get them, and that the food
actually went to the people. Anyway, I was walking. And suddenly I looked down, and there was a grenade at my feet.
Luckily for me, it wasn't a live one, happens sometimes. But I looked up to see who had tried to kill me, and it was an
eight year old." He shook his head at the memory.
"And it happens all the time. You guys in the Red Cross think that red cross symbol will protect you. It won't. And we
respect the fact that you refuse our help in that area for the most part. But as long as my men are in your tent, I'm
there." He said. "Because they, the enemy, knows that you guys are defenseless for the most part. By choice, I might
add. And one American soldier in captivity is worth more than food to some of these guys."
"You don't like me there, I can respect that. But I'm there until the next shift. Because as long as my men are in your
tent, everyone's in danger. And if they weren't hurt and needed the medical attention, I'd pull them out of there in a
minute. You think I like the fact that our presence puts everyone in there in harm's way? But I don't see another way."
Andi looked away. Not because she couldn't meet his eyes and ask him what he'd done to that little boy with the
grenade. But because that wasn't what she needed to be thinking about right now. The problem at hand was the
soldier wanting to haunt her tent. So she turned her face and looked out at the night beyond the lights from the
generators and thought.
Wishing she hadn't heard his last story because she knew why he'd told it and it was still affecting her judgement
despite that.
He had valid points. She knew it. Red Cross could go where no one else could. Because their neutrality was respected
and because they treated anyone. She could as easily be talking to a warlord's lieutenant as an American soldier at
this moment. Not taking sides was one of the main reasons they were such an effective organization. And the warlords
in the area, with enough savvy to have already risen to the top of their food chain, knew that.
That said, you'd be a fool to think that meant you were safe just because you worked under a red cross. There wasn't
a single one of them that didn't realize that a single RPG could change everything. And no single soldier was going to
be able to stop something like that. Dying was too much a part of her life for Andi to be afraid of it.
But hostages... such a common practice and even Red Cross workers weren't entirely immune if the villains were
determined enough and desperate enough to cut off their country's sometimes only chance at food and medicine. And
hope. Being taken hostage was scary but another part of the bargain she'd known was a possibility when she'd come
here. Having someone in her charge taken away however... for torture and leverage and - and they'd been under her
protection and trusted her to keep them safe while they were weak and helpless... especially a soldier who didn't trust
anyone but perhaps his doctor enough to be weak...
She gave a quiet sigh she wasn't aware of. Still watching the darkness beyond the tents. She should protest on
principle alone. So they realized soldiers were only welcome in the camp under duress and this wasn't the beginning of
something they could take advantage of. File something formal at least. She looked back up at him.
"You can stay." Her voice was soft. What could one soldier do? Possibly quite a bit. She prayed to God they never had
to find out though. On impulse she reached up and gently cupped his cheek as she added:
"And I'm sorry. About the boy."
"Don't be." He said, looking at her as she touched his face. "Because he's in there. He's the one with the shattered
leg." He took her hand in his and took it off his face. "And we had nothing to do with that." He said, seeing the silent
question she would never ask dance briefly across her face. "That was his own people." And he let go of her hand as
he took a step away.
"I think they're ready for another round of stories." He said. She could think what she wanted, and he knew what she
was thinking, but he liked kids. Back home he was covered with nieces and nephews.
She hadn't thought he'd hurt the child that had tried to kill him. It wasn't in most men and that was both a blessing and
a curse when your enemy didn't mind using them against you. She'd been sorry he'd had to face that kind of brutality
and hate from a child. She didn't just notice physical wounds. Not with parents like hers. But she was far better at
setting bones and treating malaria than she was at healing souls.
She linked her hands together in front of her. Her director would want to talk to her tomorrow about perfectly fine
soldiers hanging around the clinic.
She'd deal with that tomorrow.
"Don't keep them up too late." She warned gently without moving from where she was. Manipulative intentions
originally aside, maybe the children's trust would sooth something in his soul too. "Some of them have class tomorrow."
He chuckled at her. "Yeah, okay." He agreed with a grin as he headed back into the tent to weave more stories of
heroic deeds and silly trolls. He liked their laughter, reminded him of far easier times. He'd seen far too many conflicts
like this, where children were used as weapons. Or caught in the crossfire. It was just too much at times.
The director had come out of his tent to steal a smoke when he saw the soldier walking back into the med tent.
"That Delta boy looks fine. What's he doing in my clinic?"
Andi hadn't expected him to still be up. Though if she and Suzette were it only stood to reason that the rest of the
camp was still awake and burning the midnight oil. Her bad luck that he'd chosen now to come out for a breath of -
fresh air.
"It’s nothing, Sam." she answered, walking over to join him. It was always half in her to take up smoking. Simply
because you needed something doing what they did. It wasn't as if lung cancer was something you worried about living
in war-torn countries. But she'd always internally cringe at the thought of what her mother would say about such a
'manish' habit and so far that had been enough.
"He's got a mate in my tent. Apparently they had a cook out and he brought some food to share." Sam would find out
soon enough of course. Suzette told him everything and she'd notice that the soldier wasn't leaving when the dishes
were done. But Andi was tired and the last thing she wanted at the end of her long day was to find herself defending a
soldier's right to stay in a neutral area he really didn't belong in. "The children are pestering him for stories, so he
stayed on while everyone's eating. The little ones like that he can talk to them in their own language."
Sam shook his head, a life long pacifist and general surgeon, he'd been in these parts too long he thought at times.
"Hard enough to live in peace, but add armed men to the equation...it never equates." He said with a shake of his
head. then he looked at Andi, surprised.
"He speaks the language?" He said, surprised. Even if he only said a few words, that was more than unusual for
soldiers, who usually rode in, and rode out, transferring out of places like this as their governments demanded. "Well...
if he's entertaining the kids...I suppose there's no harm. For now." He walked over and peeked inside the tent where
Hector had rearranged his nice clinic so all the beds of the children were close together and in front of him as he told
stories.
"He's actually rather good." Andi supplied, standing at Sam's shoulder. Hector had apparently been jumped as soon
as he'd come in and was already into one of his stories. "Good enough to tell them stories. And they like correcting his
word usage."
Suzette had come to the front of the tent when cots had started being moved but hadn't done anything to stop it. Now
she looked questioningly at Andi and Sam in the doorway. Andi shook her head with a smile. Then she patted Sam's
shoulder.
"I'll make sure everything's back in place come morning when the children wake back up." She told him. Thinking that,
circled as they were, it reminded her of her own childhood around the camp fires with the villagers that lived near her
parent's home and the stories that were woven there. Even if it had started with secondary motives, the children were
still getting a special treat tonight. One they'd remember for most of their lives most likely. The night an American
trooper brought them food and told them stories long into the darkness. If only all this country's problems could be so
easily solved.
Somehow she doubted warlords were interested in campfire tales however.
"Get some sleep, Sam." She advised softly. "Tomorrow will, no doubt, start early."