“Marine gunner, that’s a tough gig. May I record our conversation?”
She shuddered.
“Jessie, I’m not going to use this recording to hurt you, I swear. I just don’t want to make you repeat yourself.” He slumped slightly in his chair.
“Mommy, can you go outside?” Jessie begged.
“Mrs. Brooks, I won’t hurt Jessie.” Troy’s eyes filled with sympathy and an ache. “I’ll be right back.”
Troy approached the nurses’ station, then returned, joined by the head nurse. Before they entered the room, he asked the nurse to remain quiet unless Jessie was in medical danger.
“Jessie, you are a victim who deserves justice. My job is to see you get it.” Troy pressed record and, after reintroducing himself, provided the legal information and captured Jessie’s consent for the recording. He scooted closer to her. “Are you able to tell me what happened eight days ago?”
“It was the start of our last week at CAMOUT, the Combined Arms Military Operations in Urban Terrain, for our enhanced Mojave viper. Our technical was hit by enemy fire and disabled. We were clearing the ammunition and moving the wounded. Corporal Marx and I brought our first patient to the medical tent, and we both headed out to get our next patient. Bursts of enemy fire picked up around us; the smoke thickened and, even with our night vision goggles, it was hard to see. We headed deeper into the mock village.
“As a burst came over close, I hit the deck. My rifle was in my hands over my head. As I tried to get up, someone kicked it out of my grasp. Another had a knee in my back and a Ka-bar to my throat. I kept fighting. The more I fought, the harder I was kicked and punched. The man with the knife pulled me up to my knees by my throat. The other secured my arms. Both were in full black from head to toe and balaclavas. The man with the knife—his balaclava had gold around the eye holes.
“I screamed to stop, to let me go, like anyone was going to hear me over the explosions. The one without the knife ripped my helmet free and hit me with it. I was dazed because, when things started to make sense, I was over his shoulder. I was in this weird room.” Her eyes began scanning the hospital room.
Troy saw sweat cover her brow; her heart rate increased, and her voice increased in pitch. “Jessie, you are here in a hospital room and safe. Look at me.”
Her eyes snapped to his. “I’m scared. Do you think they will come back?”
“I know you are. I don’t think they will come back, but I can arrange for security to be at your door until I can get you transferred to a facility off-base. I want you to feel safe.”
“You can do that?” Her eyes dampened.
Troy smiled. “Yes, and I will. Are you able to keep going?”
“Mmm hmm.” She balled up her sheets in her fists.
“Take a breath with me.” Troy breathed. “That’s it. And another.” He did his best to control his breathing.
She followed his lead and began to talk. “I was tossed on a table, and my limbs were tied to the legs. The man without the knife, he sat in a chair and stared at me. I kept asking what he wanted. The other stuffed a rolled gauze in my mouth. I remember paying attention to the barrages. I stopped being scared of them. Pretty funny.” Her lips turned down.
Troy’s heart beat in his ears. Was he a masochist for doing the interview? Jule could do it. No, Jule said it himself: he was good at this. “You’re doing great. I know how hard this is.”I do.
“Thank you. I kept telling myself it was a bad dream. I kept shaking my head no. The man with the Ka-bar—he cut my uniform free. The man watching—he had a book on his knee, and he was taking notes. His other hand was in his lap.” Her face contorted with disgust.
Troy swallowed hard. He wanted to help her with the words, but he couldn’t. “Jessie, my name is Troy. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You are in the hospital. It’s all a memory. You’re safe.”
“The man put the Ka-bar on my stomach and reached into his pocket. It was a silver scalpel. He stood between my legs and he…he…cut… And when he stopped…he forced himself into my bottom.
“I thought he was done. He came toward my head, and with two quick cuts, my nipples were gone. It hurt so much. I felt my blood drip down my sides. I felt dizzy and nauseated and started to retch.” More tears began to fall.
“The man watching pulled the gauze from my mouth. He pressed his mouth to my forehead, and then it was quiet. The next thing I remember was four Marines rushing me to a helo.” Jessie started to hyperventilate and choke on her tears.
Troy grabbed some tissues and dabbed her tears. “Shh. Shh. Shh. Slow breaths. Jessie, push the button on the PCA pump. It will take the pain down.” He was grateful the timer between doses had run down. Everything in his being wanted to make it go away for her. "Hang on for me. Nothing you did was your fault. Help is coming."
He watched the twenty-five-year-old fall out to the haze of medication. After the nurse moved to tend to her, Troy opened the door to find her mother wringing her hands. “Meredith, this is my card. Two operators from Chase Security will be here within the hour to keep Jessie safe. I’m also making arrangements to move her to a place better for her recovery. I’ll let your husband know. Your daughter is a brave young woman.”
“How can I thank you?” the sad mother asked.
“I haven’t done anything,” —except making her suffer. "You need something or have a question, call the number on the card 24/7, and someone will help you.” Troy squeezed Meredith’s hand, took a breath and walked from the room.
Chapter 12
The elevator ride with Trask to the penthouse was tense. “Thanks for your help today with Jessie’s doctor,” he told Trask. As the doors opened, Troy stepped out and charged toward Gwen’s office. “Verna, hold my calls.”
