Camp Lemonnier was a United States Naval Expeditionary Base located near the Djibouti-Ambouli International Airport. It was the only permanent U.S. military base in Africa.
Lucky for them, it wasn’t too far from the hospital they were in, now. Sophie just prayed the team they were sending got here sooner, rather than later.
Since coming here three weeks ago, she’d witnessed her fair share of aggressive behavior by some in the area. But nothing more than what she’d been warned about by the AMOVA representative when she’d initially agreed to the trip.
AMOVA—which stood for American Medical Organization for Volunteer Aid—was a non-profit organization that traveled all over the world to help those in need. The doctors and nurses who joined would take temporary assignments in countries with great deficiencies in supplies and properly trained medical professionals.
Sophie and her temporary colleagues had not only been helping treat patients in the poverty-stricken city of Djibouti and its surrounding area, but they’d also spent time training the doctors and nurses at one of the local hospitals in the city.
In addition to that, two days a week they’d been travelling to Chabelley—a small village located about seven miles southwest of Djibouti. There, they set up a makeshift clinic for those unable to travel into the city.
By and large, the interactions Sophie and the others had experienced were positive. Most locals were grateful for the added medical aid, and expressed their thanks with smiles, handshakes, and hugs.
Of course, like most areas such as this, there were also radical groups present. Terrorists who’d love nothing more than to kidnap American aid workers, either for profit or as a voice to push their horrific agendas.
Until now, the worst Sophie had personally witnessed were a few minor physical assaults on the streets. Not that those were okay, by any means. But they were nothing compared to what had been happening during the last twenty or so hours.
Bombs detonating in the distance. Car alarms blaring and emergency sirens screaming. Loud, sporadic pops of gunfire.
It was everything she’d seen on TV and in the movies but never dreamed she’d have to experience in real life. She couldn’t imagine living in a place where this sort of violence was considered the norm.
Sophie also couldn’t imagine what it was like for the heroic military men and women who ran headfirst into the line of fire.
The minute they signed their names on that dotted line, they agreed to risk their lives for people they’d never met before. Innocent strangers needing protection from the terroristic wrath some men felt they had the right to bestow upon the world.
As if reading her most recent thoughts, Christine sat down in the chair next to the patient’s bed and sighed.
“Part of me hates knowing American soldiers are out there right now, risking their lives just to get to us. But at the same time, I’m really freaking glad they are.” Trepidation oozed from the woman’s big, brown eyes as she looked up at her. “Does that make me a horrible person?”
“No.” Sophie shook her head. “It makes you human.”
At least, that’s what she’d been telling herself to justify thehurry up and get herethoughts that had been spinning through herownmind.
Sophie had always considered herself to be a pretty tough cookie. As an emergency room doctor, she had to be. But she wasn’t trained in combat, and she sure as heck didn’t have a death wish.
As much as she hated the idea of leaving the local medical staff and their patients behind, Sophie knew she’d be of no use to anyone if she got herself killed trying to be a martyr.
Still, as the volunteer doctor in charge of today’s shift, it was up to her to remain calm. For her staff and their patients.
Another round of successive gunfire filled the night air, making her muscles tense. Moving the curtain to the side, Sophie peeked past the thick material to see if there was any immediate danger near their building.
“Dr. Sophia Ruiz?”
Hearing her name, Sophie spun her head around with a start.
A man stood in the doorway, black paint smeared from below his eyes to just above his dark beard.
Carrying what appeared to be an M4 assault rifle, the newcomer was dressed in head-to-toe desert camo. Complete with a combat helmet, coms, and night vision goggles that had been pushed up and out of the way.
But it was the American Flag patch on the center of the man’s chest that sent relief flowing through Sophie’s system.
He’s American.
“Oh, thank God!” Christine shot up out of the chair.
Without looking at the other woman, the man kept his eyes locked with Sophie’s. “Are you Dr.—”
“Sophia Ruiz,” she finished for him. “Yes, that’s me.”