Red Sand ✓

Please Live

16 Hours After Capture

2016, Location: Camp Baharia, [REDACTED], Iraq

Voices echoed in and out, a language she couldn't understand. Willow tried to open her eyes but she couldn't. She was just. Too. Tired.

The ground shook under her as a sharp fire rose from her head. It pounded on her skull in beat with the moving ground. Wait, why was it shaking?

Willow struggled again to see what was going on, but all that happened was the voices coming together in a cascade of thunder. They got louder and louder, a roar rushing past her head. The reporter closed her eyes again.

---

The next time she awoke it was to a sharper smell, less of the earthy sand and tangier.

Bleach?

The next thing that registered was small whispers to her left, and beeping on her right. It felt as if Willow was floating, what was going on?

A deep grumble said something and she strained to open her eyes once more. It was English this time, some part of her broken brain fed her. Now if she could just wake up...

The heavyweight of sleep dragged the raven-haired woman back under.

---

The 3rd time waking up, it was with the pain of a massive headache. Willow groaned slightly as she tried to sit up, but wasn't successful.

Blurry figures stood in front of her, calling the reporter's name. She just tried to wave them off, but her throat was as dry as the desert. A cup of water with a colored straw came in front of her, and Willow chugged it down gratefully. After a minute, her throat slightly better, she tried to speak again. "What happened?" She croaked out, now looking around her to the party of 4 that claimed the room.

A tall man of stature with a 5'olk shadow and heavy bags under her eyes answered back. "Ms. James, my name is Master Chief Stephan Webber. I'm Petty Officer Summers Boss."

Fuck. News spreads fast across the Atlantic when it came to the military didn't it?

Willow struggled to sit up and could just barely. Another man, this time with blond curls and on the younger side rushed forward, "Here let me raise the bed for you, I'm 2nd class Officer James Harrison, the team medic."

She gave a tight smile and turned towards the other two. The taller of the pair, with mixed skin and brown eyes, introduced himself as Senior Chief Dave Amato. The other, a ginger fellow, gave himself up as Petty Officer Jacob Castillo, but the moment the words left his mouth he went back to whatever was inside that red file. It must be important.

"I'm sorry that you had to go through something of this extreme, Ms. James. This is nothing that we could have imagined to have happened on your visit. We flew in to BIAP the moment we could. " Webber stated, looking somewhat mournful. "Though we must ask you to keep this confidential."

'You have to be kidding me.' Willow thought. He was trying to keep her from reporting this to her boss, like she would anyways. She was a war reporter, not a gossip column. That was fucked to hell.

Willow gave a click of her tongue, quickly turning as professional as she could in a medical bed. "Tragic, yes. But what exactly are you guys doing to get your own back? Summers protected me with all of her ability and it's her actions that I am still alive. I'm guessing that's why they called her team down here I suppose though, I'm also guessing that you need a statement from me as well?"

This time it was Castillo that spoke up, "You got it Ma'am, any information big or small could help us. We already have a team patrolling the area, and we're going through surveillance of anything that our satellites caught, but right now they have nothing."