out of a cave. Desk jockey was her guess. His thick glasses made his dull, brown eyes frog-like.
"Private Coleman and I are guarding Kelly and we're eating lunch, sir." Larsen motioned to the three of them.
He spewed his words over the crowd. "Then what are the rest of you doing standing around?" Turner glared at the group.
The crowd dispersed, most leaving the tent grumbling. Smith stayed seated, his attention glued on Kelly.
"What are you still doing here, Smith?"
"I'm eating, too." The young NCO smiled.
Turner narrowed his eyes. "You look done to me."
Smith looked at his empty dishes. "Yes, sir." He dragged himself off the chair.
It was nice having the gawking crowd gone, but Major Turner immediately took Smith's seat. He gave Kelly the creeps.
"Now that the unruly crowd is taken care of … you must be the mystery woman I've heard so much about."
Coleman and Larsen went back to eating. They weren't going to be any help.
"I guess I am."
"I heard that you claim to not know how you got here." He crossed his arms over his thin chest and settled back, making himself at home.
"Well -"
He leered down his nose at her. "And that you were found in Captain Duran's bed."
"Yeah, uh -"
"They also said you were wearing a slinky negligee." He waggled his eyebrows.
"Uh -"
"Ah, come on, you can't be serious." He waved one hand imperiously.
Kelly sat back in the chair and folded her arms. He didn't want to hear what she had to say; he just wanted to hear his own voice. Her first assessment was right and she felt smug, I've still got it .
"I'm surprised you and Duran couldn’t come up with a better story than that." He took a quick breath. "If it were me, I could have come up with something far better." …Breath… "Maybe a midnight raid where you were rescued. Damsel in distress is always better than ' I don't know.’ And I always thought Duran was smart." …Breath... "Well, I think I should take over guarding the prisoner; this is obviously a job for an officer."
"What! You've got to be kidding!" Kelly wound up, it’s time to tell this pompous -
Larsen placed his hand on her arm and squeezed before stacking his dishes and pushing his tray away. Larsen cleared his throat. "Major Turner, sir. With all due respect, sir, Private Coleman is under strict orders from Colonel Broan. And as you know, if those orders are to be changed, they must come directly from the colonel."
Turner sputtered. "I'm sure the colonel won't mind if I ... protect the prisoner."
"Well sir, that's between you and Colonel Broan, I'm only a sergeant. Meanwhile, we're done eating, and I have strict orders to accompany these two back to the women's compound."
Coleman rushed Kelly out of her seat.
Larsen took his time rising. "If the colonel does change his mind, just send word to Private Coleman, and she'll be glad to bring Kelly to you." He picked up his tray. "Oh, will you excuse us, sir?"
Turner was deep in thought. "Yes." He waved them away. Turner's screwed-up face looked as though he hurt from the lone thought.
Kelly didn't look back but could feel the Major’s eyes on her. She and Coleman slipped out of the tent first. It seemed like hours before Larsen meandered out. He continued the ridiculously slow speed with his hands in his pockets, whistling. Whistling, really?
The two women turned a corner and waited for him. Kelly decided he would go faster even if she had to carry him. But that became unnecessary when Larsen’s second step around the corner was the beginning of a sprint.
"Come on, slow pokes!" he taunted.
With some effort, the women caught up with him around the next turn, where he slowed down.
Coleman wasted no time, and punched his arm.
"Ouch! What was that for?"
"Why'd you go so slow? He could have changed his mind!"
Larsen rubbed his arm. "Turner doesn't have a mind to change, the jerk." He nudged Kelly forward, still massaging his bicep. "Come on, we have to get you back to Coleman's tent."
"Why?"
"Because he
"Private Coleman and I are guarding Kelly and we're eating lunch, sir." Larsen motioned to the three of them.
He spewed his words over the crowd. "Then what are the rest of you doing standing around?" Turner glared at the group.
The crowd dispersed, most leaving the tent grumbling. Smith stayed seated, his attention glued on Kelly.
"What are you still doing here, Smith?"
"I'm eating, too." The young NCO smiled.
Turner narrowed his eyes. "You look done to me."
Smith looked at his empty dishes. "Yes, sir." He dragged himself off the chair.
It was nice having the gawking crowd gone, but Major Turner immediately took Smith's seat. He gave Kelly the creeps.
"Now that the unruly crowd is taken care of … you must be the mystery woman I've heard so much about."
Coleman and Larsen went back to eating. They weren't going to be any help.
"I guess I am."
"I heard that you claim to not know how you got here." He crossed his arms over his thin chest and settled back, making himself at home.
"Well -"
He leered down his nose at her. "And that you were found in Captain Duran's bed."
"Yeah, uh -"
"They also said you were wearing a slinky negligee." He waggled his eyebrows.
"Uh -"
"Ah, come on, you can't be serious." He waved one hand imperiously.
Kelly sat back in the chair and folded her arms. He didn't want to hear what she had to say; he just wanted to hear his own voice. Her first assessment was right and she felt smug, I've still got it .
"I'm surprised you and Duran couldn’t come up with a better story than that." He took a quick breath. "If it were me, I could have come up with something far better." …Breath… "Maybe a midnight raid where you were rescued. Damsel in distress is always better than ' I don't know.’ And I always thought Duran was smart." …Breath... "Well, I think I should take over guarding the prisoner; this is obviously a job for an officer."
"What! You've got to be kidding!" Kelly wound up, it’s time to tell this pompous -
Larsen placed his hand on her arm and squeezed before stacking his dishes and pushing his tray away. Larsen cleared his throat. "Major Turner, sir. With all due respect, sir, Private Coleman is under strict orders from Colonel Broan. And as you know, if those orders are to be changed, they must come directly from the colonel."
Turner sputtered. "I'm sure the colonel won't mind if I ... protect the prisoner."
"Well sir, that's between you and Colonel Broan, I'm only a sergeant. Meanwhile, we're done eating, and I have strict orders to accompany these two back to the women's compound."
Coleman rushed Kelly out of her seat.
Larsen took his time rising. "If the colonel does change his mind, just send word to Private Coleman, and she'll be glad to bring Kelly to you." He picked up his tray. "Oh, will you excuse us, sir?"
Turner was deep in thought. "Yes." He waved them away. Turner's screwed-up face looked as though he hurt from the lone thought.
Kelly didn't look back but could feel the Major’s eyes on her. She and Coleman slipped out of the tent first. It seemed like hours before Larsen meandered out. He continued the ridiculously slow speed with his hands in his pockets, whistling. Whistling, really?
The two women turned a corner and waited for him. Kelly decided he would go faster even if she had to carry him. But that became unnecessary when Larsen’s second step around the corner was the beginning of a sprint.
"Come on, slow pokes!" he taunted.
With some effort, the women caught up with him around the next turn, where he slowed down.
Coleman wasted no time, and punched his arm.
"Ouch! What was that for?"
"Why'd you go so slow? He could have changed his mind!"
Larsen rubbed his arm. "Turner doesn't have a mind to change, the jerk." He nudged Kelly forward, still massaging his bicep. "Come on, we have to get you back to Coleman's tent."
"Why?"
"Because he
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