He felt his teeth grit together and forced his jaw to relax. He’d never come across anyone so closed-minded. “Fine,” he bit out. “I’ll take my men, and we will stay in our camp. Likewise, our weapons will stay in our camp. Meanwhile, I can try to get you IV antibiotics or any other medications or supplies you need. Can you give me a wish list of your specific needs?”

Her eyes widened, and she nodded, clearly ignoring his evident dissatisfaction with her demands regarding firearms. “I’ll make a list.”

After glancing at his men lying in their cots, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. The smell of the pine cleaner took him back to the Infantry Basic Officer Leader Course he’d attended in the backwoods of Fort Benning, Georgia. He’d cleaned that latrine one too many times with industrial pine cleaner.

He opened his eyes, feeling the weight of his fatigue as he slowly let out his breath. “Don’t be afraid to ask for anything at all,” he said, feeling his beard shift as he smiled. “We may not be able to get something, but the answer’s always no if you don’t ask, Doc.”

In the quiet of the night, Cynthia typed patient notes into her laptop, detailing the surgery she’d performed on Sergeant Bill Sanders. She’d had to crack his chest. A part of her had hoped the bullet would just make its way to her when she went after it and the surgery would require little effort or know-how. Instead, she found herself repairing an artery and then patching him back up. It had taken every ounce of skill and not a small amount of prayer to keep him alive on the table. Thankfully, Tadeas had his blood type, which allowed her to replenish some of the blood lost with whole blood instead of just saline. She honestly would rather face more warlords than ever again hear the sound of a chest cracking under the force of her own hands.

Now to keep him from getting an infection.

She prayed Captain Norton would have the opportunity to fill her supply list. Then she would feel far more confident in Sanders’s survival.

After she typed the last sentence, she turned the laptop off. She used the generator to charge it once a week, and the notes piled up when the battery died in between charges. As she closed the lid, she jumped at the screech of a milky eagle owl right outside her window. Thinking of the critters that enormous owl would eat, she didn’t mind the noise it made in the late evening. The spiders here grew to the size of house cats.