Peña looked up from his oatmeal. “Thought maybe you’d gone to the hotel.”

The smell of the food had revived him. “Not until I eat and check in on Ozzy and Drumstick.”

Waller, the medic who had flown with them, sat at the end of the group near McBride. “Sergeant Sanders is resting in the medical facility on the fourth floor. I hooked him up with an IV and got some fluids in him. He’s doing well. Lieutenant Osbourne is still in surgery.”

Rick looked around but didn’t see Cynthia. “Where’s Doctor Myers?”

Waller frowned slightly. “I, uh, think she’s in surgery with Lieutenant Osbourne, sir. Last I saw they were trying to find her some scrubs.” He gestured toward Rick. “I can glue up your head for you if you want. You’re bleeding onto your food.”

He patted his head with a napkin, and to his surprise it came away bloody. He shook his head. “No thanks. It’ll be fine.” He bowed his head and asked God’s blessing on the bounty of food in front of him, then picked up his fork. “Amen.” He scooped corned beef into his mouth. When he noticed that he was bleeding down the side of his face, he said, “Okay. Maybe after I eat.”

“Check” was all Waller said in response.

“Where’s everyone else?” Swanson asked, clearly referring to the other five members of their team.

“They sent them to Djibouti as soon as we boarded the helicopters.”

McBride shook his head. “You know Hanson loved that. I bet he’s still cursing.”

Rick thought about his warrant officer, the perfect right hand for him. “We should hook up with them in a couple of days if all goes according to plan.”

The food tasted better than almost anything he’d ever eaten, and it was perfectly complemented by the coffee and orange juice. About an hour later, feeling full and beyond tired, he went to the medical section. He found Sanders crashed out on a bed behind a curtained area.

A nurse came up to him. “He is fine medically, just a little dehydrated and tired. He’ll probably be released tomorrow morning when we take out the chest tube.”

He turned and faced her. “And my other soldier? Lieutenant Osbourne?”

Her eyebrows drew together in a frown. “He’s still in surgery. If you go through that door there, you’ll see the signs. There should be a waiting room.”

He pushed through the doors, then walked through the corridors until he found a sign that read, “Surgical Family Waiting Room.” He stopped short when he saw Sergeant Waller already there.

“How did you get here so fast?” he asked.

Waller held up his ID badge. “Came in through a different door.”

“Know anything?”