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Afghanistan is a land of extremes. The desert is scorching hot in the summer heat without much ground cover or trees in the mountains and then the further up in elevation or at night, it freezes the blood in your veins.
Eddie grew up in a desert but this one is much deadlier than his home thousands of miles away and he needs to get his head in the game.
Dodging Shannon’s call earlier had been convenient—none of their conversations lately have been good or ended any other way than one of them angrily hanging up on the other. He knows his wife is barely hanging on at home and he’s in a war zone, unavailable even if he wanted to be.
He misses home and his son.
Eddie’s not sure he misses Shannon and that’s… they’re probably not going to make it.
They’d married because of Christopher. Eddie had signed up for another contract and deployment because Christopher needed the healthcare and the deployment bonus would keep Eddie’s kid and wife financially secure. He’s done everything the last few years for Christopher, his little ray of sunshine who deserves a much better father than the absent one Eddie is.
It doesn’t matter if Eddie feels like he’s losing bits of himself every day as he patches up other men and women, plugging the holes in their bodies while he feels like he’s internally bleeding out himself. What matters is Christopher getting everything he needs, which Eddie will give him while there’s still breath left in his body.
He should have been more polite though when ending his last call though.
Abuela would be disappointed in him for not taking the time despite being ordered to get on the medevac bird that was seconds from taking off.
The steady thump thump thump of the helicopter’s rotor blades overlays his own slightly elevated heartbeat as he monitors their patient, a marine who got into a bit of a gunfight—PFC Greggs. Gregg’s heart rate is fast from pain but his other vitals are in a good range so Eddie figures the tourniquet is working okay and as long as they get him to the surgeon at the FOB quickly, this is relatively speaking thus far a milk run as the sun sets behind the mountains.
Mills who is across from him smiles as she chats into her mic but Eddie isn’t paying that much attention to his teammates until Mills comments, “You know, Afghanistan would almost be pretty if it weren’t for the names.”
“Names?” Hayes says, the other medic that Eddie is teamed with.
“You know, this is the Valley of Death, right?” Sergeant Anita Mills says, flashing a teasing grin at Eddie as she winks.
Something walks across Eddie’s grave, a shiver running down his spine at Anita’s poorly chosen topic of conversation. You don’t tempt death—not out here.
Fuck, Mills. Don’t go throwing that energy out into the universe. They don’t need to challenge Murphy’s law today because Murphy always fucks you harder when you challenge him, Eddie thinks even as the rest of the team groans at Anita’s jibes.
“Mills,” their Lieutenant growls from the cockpit, attempting to belay any further jokes but Anita is known for having a terrible sense of humor that has unfortunately infected the entire team by this point in their deployment.
“Well, blame all the dead people for the name!” She jokes, doubling down. “I didn’t name it—they did!”
In true Murphy’s law fashion, that’s when the alarm goes off, blaring loudly in a noise that will echo in Eddie’s nightmares in warning for an incoming rocket.
“Incoming!” The pilot screams as the helicopter lurches to the right and Eddie would have been thrown if he wasn’t strapped in, a threatening sounding whistle noise growing rapidly closer and louder. The gurney that Greggs is on bucks as the helicopter twists in the air attempting to throw off the locked in missile that is coming in hot.
In seconds, there’s another violent jump to the left as the rocket hits the tail section and explodes. Everything is spinning as the helicopter itself tumbles in a death spiral towards the mountainside a couple hundred feet away, smoke choking Eddie as he tries to tell up from down. There’s no time to brace for impact as steel and stone meet, the still turning rotor blades chewing into rock with a deadly whine before the engine blows up in another thundering jolt and gravity proves herself to be a bitch as she pulls all of them into the earth as they make a bone shattering impact crater on the side of the mountain before the helicopter is torn apart as it falls in three pieces down towards the valley floor as the steel frame around him buckles and fractures.
Eddie is lucky and his harness holds and he’s stuck in a washer on spin cycle as the helicopter rolls downhill, crushing everything in it’s wake, shedding ribbons of metal and electronics.
The rest of his team isn’t so lucky.
When they finally roll to an sliding, tilted stop Eddie has to cut himself free. Smoke obscures the wreckage. Greggs is silent, the monitor screaming for attention and displaying zeros for all vitals. Hayes is just gone, his seat ripped out with a missing wall. Mills somehow is still inside the helicopter but when Eddie checks on her, she’s unconscious and her face is covered in blood from a cut near her hairline.
Since he got to Anita first, he checks her over. She’s breathing, has a pulse. Her neck seems okay and the smoke is getting worse so he hauls her outside and away from the wreckage before going back in. The pilot—Johnson—is slumped over the controls. His lieutenant—Webb—is also unconscious and has lost his helmet. There’s a streak of blood on the windshield which has stellated from where the Lieutenant’s head probably met it at some point.
Webb groans when Eddie checks him for a pulse, dark eyes opening to squint at Eddie in confusion. “Diaz?”
“Can you move?” Eddie immediately presses.
Webb takes a worryingly long time to answer in the positive, fumbling for the clip to unbuckle while Eddie cuts Johnson the pilot out of his. Throwing the pilot over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, Eddie somehow manages to climb out of the wreck a second time.
Just as he’s putting Johnson down next to Mills who is awake and blinking around in confusion, the sound of shouts in another language echoing off the valley walls announces that whoever shot them down is coming to find them.
“Can you shoot?” Eddie asks Mills, pushing her rifle into her hands.
He doesn’t wait for her to reply—Webb and Greggs are still in the burning helicopter so he dives back into the smoke. Webb hasn’t been able to unbuckle so Eddie cuts him out and shoving the lieutenant towards the open air before reaching for Greggs. There’s no need to be gentle at this point and he cuts the marine loose from the gurney and drags him out to the others.
The first shots go wide and ricochet off the rocks below Eddie’s feet as the hostiles arrive and the gun battle begins. Mills screams as she returns fire, her aim off by a wide margin but makes the approaching men duck and dive for cover. They’re out in the open and Eddie takes a few shots himself as he desperately casts around for something to block the bullets whizzing past him. The lieutenant also manages a few shots but they’re ineffectual.
Here, Eddie hears from his left, almost missing it in the cacophony of rifle fire and the whines and shrieks of the burning helicopter.
“What?” He shouts, shooting at the closest hostile who returns fire, a bullet nicking Eddie’s left arm and making him hiss at the stinging pain that feels like a hot poker was shoved into his muscle.
Here. I am here, the voice calls a second time and Eddie notices the small cave entrance that likely had been revealed by the helicopter smashing into the mountain. It’s about ten yards uphill but it’s better than being out in the open. He’s not sure which of his teammates noticed it—maybe Hayes is in there.
“Mills! There’s a cave—get in there! I’ll cover you!” Eddie shouts, trying to aim rather than just spraying cover fire.
Mills grabs and drags the pilot, lurching towards the cave entrance. Eddie covers her, waiting until she’s at the cave before telling his lieutenant to follow her. “Webb, get to the cave!”
Eddie’s lieutenant luckily enough doesn’t argue with him, scrambling in a hobbling half run towards the dark crease in the rock.
Of course, he doesn’t grab Greggs as he runs to safety, Eddie thinks darkly as Webb disappears from sight leaving only Eddie and Greggs’ body exposed. Eddie shoots another couple of rounds toward the asshole who shot him before throwing Greggs over his shoulder and running for it. Mills pops out of the cave, bracing herself and unloading an entire clip to provide cover fire but it’s not enough.
Twin fiery pokers steal Eddie’s breath and he stumbles to his knees as breathing becomes difficult. He’s been hit in the chest and side, the pain excruciating as it tears through him.
“Diaz!” Mills screams his name, firing again and again.
From out of nowhere, Hayes appears and lays down covering fire like the ice cold operator he is, protecting Eddie and Greggs. “C’mon, Diaz. Get your slow pretty ass in that cave!”
Somehow, Eddie does.
He takes turns with Hayes alternatively providing cover as they leapfrog their way to the meager cover provided by the shallow cave.
Webb is in the very back which is only about twenty feet from the entrance, eyes closed as he leans against the curved rock wall, gun held lax in his hands. Johnson is still out but breathing. Eddie drops Greggs next to the pilot, trying to catch his breath as Hayes and Mills trade shifts at the cave entrance, shooting at irregular intervals.
Eddie’s knees threaten to buckle but he stays upright. If he stops now, he’s not sure he’ll be able to get back up. His vision swims threateningly, his breath coming in short painfully wet pants as he counts how many bullets they have left. He’s got three clips still in his pockets assuming he didn’t lose them in the crash and he ejects his mostly spent one and replaces it.
“You need to help cover,” Eddie manages to say, his words intended for his lieutenant who is remains slumped in the back.
Webb shakes his head, refusing.
Eddie takes a step towards the man. He’s never liked Webb who replaced his old lieutenant, Gage, a month ago. Everyone on the team has noticed how the man is an expert at avoiding work but Eddie hadn’t thought him a coward.
“If you’re not going to shoot, give me your mags.”
“No,” Webb speaks, shaking his head in refusal. “I need them.”
“They get in here,” Eddie growls, motioning towards the hostiles with his head, “then we’re all dead. Give me your spares.”
Webb denies him again. “No. Get back to your job, sergeant.”
Eddie almost laughs in Webb’s face. He is doing his job—protecting his team.
He takes another step towards Webb. He’ll wrestle the clips from the asshole if he has to—Eddie trusts Mills and Hayes. They’ll keep them all safe.
Webb belligerently continues to refuse so Eddie moves to take the clips from him and stumbles, going lightheaded, reaching out to brace himself so as not to faceplant in the cave wall. Meanwhile, Webb scuttles away like the cockroach he is and Eddie’s gloved hand hits the wall and punches through it.
Huh, he thinks as his glove comes away wet with thick yellow colored mucous, having punched through a paper thin surface.
Thank you, he hears and the wall…cracks.
There’s an eye the color of the summer Texas sky looking at him that freezes him in place as the cave quakes around him. Webb shrieks and darts towards the entrance leaving Eddie alone to face the growing hole as a talon longer than his fingers sneaks out and begins to break the wall down further.
He’s trying to get out—I should help him, Eddie vaguely thinks as he reaches towards the blue eye that has entranced him.
Thanks, the voice whispers through Eddie’s mind like a caress as he hooks his fingers into the hole and tugs away the thin pieces of… shell?
It’s a shell—an ivory shell with an inside the same color as an abalone shell.
He’s barely recognized what the blue eyes must belong to when the egg cracks fully open and Webb gasps.
“A dragon! Get out of the way Diaz—there’s no way it’s yours!”
The shove from behind has Eddie knocked to the ground, pain exploding as the wounds he’s been ignoring are jarred by the impact with the cave floor. A loud draconic snarl makes Webb yelp in pain.
There’s more yelling accompanied by snarls and growls but Eddie’s too preoccupied with trying to breathe and he loses track for a minute or two or twenty. Gradually the pain lessens just enough for him to be aware that a dragon the size of a bobcat is nuzzling his shoulder and licking the wound in his chest, wings spread like an umbrella and protectively over Eddie.
Dragon saliva has a lot of medicinal properties, he remembers from somewhere in his training. A lot of modern pharmaceuticals have their origins in dragon spit or blood.
The dragon’s tongue is rough like a cat’s as it laps at his blood, licking the wound clean and sealing it as numbness spreads outward. Satisfied with the chest wound, the dragon then nudges him to move enough to get at the wound on his side and Eddie…
Eddie lets him.
The dragon is a him. He’s not sure how he knows but he knows the newly hatched dragon is a boy dragon.
Satisfied, the dragon pulls back to meet Eddie’s eyes and there’s something behind them that’s sharply intelligent. Eddie’s never met a dragon before—they’re rare and usually only choose to interact mostly with rich and powerful people, not grunts like Eddie. Being a chosen companion of a dragon is a one way ticket to wealth and power.
Which is probably why Webb was trying to shove Eddie out of the way.
If the stories are true, a young dragon’s first companion is usually the first person that tames them.
Eddie has no idea how you can tame a dragon—and the one in front of him seems as tame as an overly large house cat given the purring he’s emanating.
Well, a house cat with a wing span larger than an eagle’s if those slender appendages on his back stretch to their full length.
“Thank you,” Eddie whispers, his fingers hesitantly tracing the forehead ridges between the dragon’s eyes which the dragon seems to appreciate, pushing into the touch to encourage him to continue his petting and he notices a slightly darker mark on the outside ridge of the left eye like a birthmark.
“You’re welcome,” the dragon chirps with a purr, surprising Eddie with the clear english words. “Do you have anything to eat? I’m hungry.”
They both stare at the dragon’s stomach as it rumbles in hunger and the inanity of the question has Eddie reaching for the spare granola bar he always stashes in his uniform jacket pocket and unwrapping it.
He’s lost a glove somewhere between punching the shell and now but everything is confusing so he rolls with it. The dragon delicately takes the chocolate peanut butter granola bar in his mouth right from Eddie’s fingers, that ridged tongue cleaning them with a tickle that makes him want to laugh but Eddie swallows it down.
Dragons are meat eaters? Omnivores?
“Sorry, that’s all I’ve got on me,” he apologizes. Eddie hopes he hasn’t poisoned the dragon. Dragons can have chocolate—they’re probably not like dogs, right?
“It is good,” the dragon says, shamelessly begging for more pets as it settles down, practically draping himself over Eddie with his wings spread protectively like a golden blanket. “The others say help is on the way.”
Eddie looks around for the first time in a while—he and the dragon are not alone. The only other member of his team that is still in the cave is Hayes who is standing guard at the entrance of the cave, his back to them.
“Hayes?” Eddie calls and the other medic turns to face him, expression making it clear he was giving Eddie and the dragon privacy.
“Yeah, Diaz?”
“What… happened?” Eddie asks, wondering how much time he’s missed.
“Well, you were chosen by a dragon, Diaz.”
“I was?”
“Yeah. Quite the vicious little one you’ve got there. He took out most of the hostiles with a little bit of an assist from Mills and me.”
The dragon preens slightly at Hayes’ mention of him taking out a bunch of hostiles.
“Huh, he did, did he?” Eddie says, rubbing the dragon’s eye ridges and contemplating how a creature that’s maybe thirty pounds took out several armed men. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Mills hauled Webb’s ass out of here so your buddy didn’t eat him. She’s trying to raise someone to come pick us up on the radio.”
“What about Johnson?”
“He’s got a headache worse than a three day bender hangover but he’s alive. He’s getting some air.”
“Oh.” A nasty concussion then.
He doesn’t ask about Greggs and Hayes doesn’t volunteer any other information about the man they’d been sent out to medevac.
“Yeah. And, Diaz? What’s our newest teammate’s name?” Hayes asks, interrupting before Eddie can get too lost in guilt, indicating the dragon with his chin.
Eddie looks back to the dragon, whose eyes have fallen to half mast in pleasure at Eddie’s continued caressing of his eyebrow ridges, thumb resting right on that patch next to the left eye. “What’s your name?”
“You may call me Evan.”
“Well, Evan, I’m Eddie.”