Everything burned: his lungs, his legs, his concern. Casey pushed himself a little harder, a little faster, a little further, urgency lending strength when he desperately wanted to stop.
Another mile passed under his feet. And then another. He was close to camp now, maybe a mile out yet. He needed to take a break, to relax overworked muscles before he arrived. A Staff Sergeant didn’t sprint into camp, no matter what the emergency.
He slowed to an I-have-business-to-attend-to-get-out-of-my-way speed. He’d made good time. He would find Lincoln, find out where Bean labored, and then go to her. And then, after she delivered safely—safely! Dammit—he would take her under his care. He wouldn’t let her come to harm. He’d sworn an oath.
He smiled ruefully, an oath, one he’d already broken just by keeping her in the camp. Casey still didn’t quite understand all of his reasons for not sending her back. But one thing was confirmed. She would never have made the trek to St. Louis, and having a baby in the woods without any form of supplies other than the non-surgical extraction kit had the potential of being disastrous. At least in camp, he had a fire, an abundance of water, and some medical supplies in the supply shed. Outside of his camp, none of those items were guaranteed.
Casey stopped in his tracks and ran his hand through his hair. He really was not looking forward to the task at hand. His thoughts were again in a tangle, and the desire to keep her safe—to protect her—the strongest emotion. He snorted in frustration. When did he start getting protective about the girl? When did she become an individual and not a concept?
With a shake of his head, and a mental order to get moving, he walked down the final hill before the low water bridge near his command shed. His legs shook from the effort of running so many miles in the sweltering heat. His shirt was plastered to his body and the sweat dripped past his waistband. As he crossed over the bridge he looked to the left but didn’t see anyone at the bathing point. When he looked right, he saw two people sitting in the river.
He stopped to watch them.
Jules sat in water almost to his armpits with Bean in his lap tucked under his chin. Casey could see Jules arms around her, cradling her in his embrace. His hand splayed over her belly. Jealousy and envy coursed through him, surprising him that the feelings existed at all, let alone in their intensity.
Casey pushed the emotions aside.
He had work to do.
Walking up the hill, he made a mental list of the things he would need. He turned onto the path to command and stepped into the clearing next to the structure. Jaesen and Hong were sitting at the picnic table Casey often used to do paperwork.
“Hong, tell Lincoln I’m here,” Casey ordered, pleased he didn’t sound breathless.
Hong and Jaesen stood when he spoke. Casey noted the faint discoloration at the corner of Jaesen’s mouth, barely visible due to his dark skin. Hong didn’t have any visible bruising. “Go,” he reminded Hong. He nodded and moved off to find Lincoln.
Casey turned his gaze to Jaesen. The question asking which side of the fight he chose was on Casey’s lips but he stifled the inquiry. Later. He would ask about that later. “Jaesen, build a fire on the stones by the collection point. I don’t think we’ll be moving far from that location and I want a blaze going in case we need it.” He glanced around the camp to see if Lincoln was on his way over. He wasn’t. “When you’re done with that—” he said and handed Jaesen a key, and Jaesen closed his fingers over it. “—I want you to bring me several blankets, the extraction kit—it’s labeled—and a change of clothes from my tent for Bean and myself. You can leave it all next to the fire.” Movement caught his eye, Lincoln was walking down the hill toward him. “Now,” he barked, dismissing him.
Jaesen didn’t move, only stared back, calmly assessing him. Casey lifted an eyebrow? “Something unclear?” he asked.
“No, Case,” he replied. “Just so you know, I do not agree with Ethan.”
“Good to know. Neither do I,” Casey acknowledged.
Jaesen’s expression warmed and he nodded. Taking the key Casey had given him, he went to the shed to collect the supplies Casey had requested.
“Report,” Casey snapped at Lincoln when he drew near.
“Territory war over the affections of the evader. Ethan and Tristan are on camp arrest in their tents. Nothing else to explain,” Lincoln told him with a shrug.
Casey wondered at the response. The answer—clipped and distilled to two sentences—made him question Lincoln’s views. Did he favor Ethan’s opinion? He needed to explore this further, but not right now.
“And what did you do for the girl besides let Jules sit in the river with her?” Casey queried. His anger over the treatment of the evader by his soldiers felt too close to the surface and he had to lock it down. Forcing himself to keep his gaze on Lincoln, he waited for his second in command to answer.
But Lincoln didn’t reply. He kept his expression steady and blank. He didn’t even blink.
Casey’s irritation grew. He did not need to have this pissing contest right now. He let a bit of his anger show in his expression, and he was about to reprimand Lincoln for his silence when Lincoln finally broke the standoff and answered. “Ethan and Teo brought her to mess, and she ate. Before joining the fight, Jaesen sent her to your tent to keep her out of the way.”
“Unescorted?” Casey asked.
“Yes.”
“And you let her go?”
“Yes. I had no reason to believe she wouldn’t do as she was told. Besides, where would she go that we couldn’t find her? She moves slower than a box turtle,” Lincoln retorted.
“Immaterial. Your orders were to keep a twenty-four-hour watch on her and you failed in that regard.”
Lincoln’s eyes narrowed. “I did not fail—”
Casey cut him off. “You did. If you’d been doing your job, you would have known she was in labor. Instead, you were informed by a private sent by another who is comforting her in the river.” Casey took a deep breath and let it out, trying to reign in his frustration. “Jules has shown more leadership today than you have. I find that unacceptable.”
Lincoln opened his mouth to respond and Casey held up his hand to stall him. “Didn’t Ty have to inform you of her whereabouts?”
He closed his mouth and glared at Casey.
“Exactly,” Casey snapped. He ran a hand through his hair and let some of his tension dissipate. Screaming at Lincoln wouldn’t solve anything, and he needed to get to Bean. “After you sent her to my tent, what happened next?”
“When Matt and Hong didn’t join in the fight, I sent them to guard her.” Lincoln stood straighter and continued, “It wasn’t until Ty reported in that I knew she was elsewhere.”
“At least you set a guard.”
Lincoln’s lips thinned. Casey assumed he was shoving an angry retort from his mind in order to not challenge Casey’s authority. Good.
With a sigh, he asked, “Did you learn any details? When did her labor start? How much time do I have?”
Lincoln’s expression relaxed. “You know as well as I do. She hides in silence.”
Casey nodded. Would he have known? Each caress of her stomach could have been due to her body’s response to her upcoming labor. And if she refused to talk, how would any of them learn of it. “Did you question Jules? Did she tell him anything?”
Lincoln shook his head.
Casey gritted his teeth in renewed anger. He didn’t have the patience to deal with this mess anymore today. “Write up a report on the incident. Include all the details—each and every one, injuries too—and I’ll deal with it later. Now, I’m going to Bean. I want someone stationed nearby as a runner. I will leave it to you to decide the rotation. And the rotation will last until I say it is no longer needed.” Casey looked at him pointedly, wanting to make sure his order was clear. “I want whoever is on duty to be far enough away that Bean stays clueless that she is being watched. She is under enough stress right now, and having people leer at her will not help. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” he replied. “Send for Tristan. His experience in the labs will be an asset.” And his presence may help keep Bean calm.
Casey stood up straighter. It was time to deliver a baby.
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