"Disney, dude, for five whole days."
Keagan tossed his napkin on his tray. "A blast for the boys. Take lots of pictures to show us."
"The boys? Sure. But I'm already dreaming about Space Mountain and the food. Oh, baby!"
Monica forced a laugh. The image sounded perfect. Normal. A couple enjoying alone time. A family going on vacation. Something she would have loved growing up and found she actually dared dream about having now.
"You should have a houseful of children, Crusty," interjected Yasmine.
What a time to try to be social.
Awkward silence settled like a toxic cloud while everyone looked anywhere but at Crusty whose wife couldn't have children. Of course, to be fair, Yasmine had no way of knowing that since she'd only heard Crusty didn't have other children yet. Not why.
"We will someday." Crusty snitched the cookie from Yasmine's tray. "No rush. My brothers can use some more time to settle in." He jammed the pilfered dessert into his mouth.
Before Crusty finished chewing, a staff sergeant from Keagan's force protection counterintelligence team entered the chow hall, stopping at their table.
Keagan shifted round in his seat. "Problem?"
"We've got a situation outside," the burly staff sergeant hurried to explain. "A worker from one of the NGOs that helped us pass out the supplies just arrived with a local. Apparently there's a medical emergency in one of the villages. Said she's gotten help from our military before."
"Yeah, that's true. American forces send out medics and docs to help treat locals, but we're tapped out now. Everyone's either been sent forward into the field or is heading for the medivac in an hour."
"All right, sir. I'll let them know."
Yasmine canted forward. "What is the problem?"
The sergeant glanced down at Keagan for permission to answer. Keagan nodded the go-ahead.
"A woman's having a difficult labor and their resident midwife is ill, doesn't want to risk infecting the mother and baby."
Monica shoved to her feet. "I'll write out instructions for the NGO worker to translate and pack up some supplies, things to keep the field sterile. We could send one of our SPs. Security police have some basic medic type training."
"Wait," Yasmine interrupted again.
Monica forced herself not to snap. Fighting wasted minutes. "Time's short, Yas."
"I can help her."
"Run that by me one more time?"
"I am a nurse. I can deliver her baby."
Shock glued her boots to the floor. "You're a nurse?"
"The woman is not going to let your military man—or any man—treat her. I am trained and speak her language. Send me."
Shock gave way to suspicion. "I thought you wanted to leave here? If you want to stay in Rubistan after all, you really don't need to be so elaborate in your escape."
"I have no wish to stay. Send your security man along to guard me."
Crusty leaned forward on his elbows. "She'll need a military escort, anyway, for safety. Max? Security's your call, dude."
Keagan studied her long and hard, then speared a hand through his blond-tipped hair. "There's no reason not to send her if she wants to go. Nothing she could do or say will change anything or harm anyone at this point."
They continued to bat plans and specifics back and forth while Monica stood with her feet stuck to the floor and worked to wrap her brain around the changing image of her sister. A nurse, not just a spoiled trust-fund girl. And if Yasmine was truly trying to leave Rubistan, stepping outside the compound was a brave thing to do.
She'd spent so long associating Yasmine with their mother, how many feelings had been unfairly transferred? And what else about her sister would she have to rethink?