C-130 Suite - Deference in Duty

She was surprised at first that he needed her for support. Even injured, Patterson had seemed strong enough to stand on his own with ease, but as he whispered in her ear before trading himself off to a poor medic she understood the display. She answered only with a head nod and a soft, “Stay out of trouble, Squirrel,” while he limped off the plane.

With a sigh she knelt back down and set her take-homes on the chair, dragging Patterson’s bag out from beneath his seat. In the main pouch, she found a sat-phone, which she checked to make sure was powered on. Blue… Ridge, she burned the code and answer in her mind before taking the phone out and making a home for it on her plate carrier, next to her new radio. She would come back for the gifts she intended for her mother.

With Patterson’s pack secured, she hoisted it up before her and proceeded off the cargo ramp, hardly giving the suit more than a glance to observe his person, tracing the lines of his belt and the way his coat settled for weapons. Turner and her team was her mission still, and with any luck, they’d soon be someone else's concern and she could get back to family, both in the Navy and at home.

As her elbow brushed the new equipment, she caught that feeling of doubt that had once beset her long ago, back in the Pacific with her old team.

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