When Does Love End?

This is a story I've been thinking about for some time. Currently it's in 4 parts although there may be more. Note there is no sexual content in part 1 and only a small amount in parts 2, 3 & 4 as this is intended to be a romantic more than an erotic tale.

As always constructive comments are welcome.

~~~~~~~~~ Chapter one ~~~~~~~~~~

The midday temperature had reached well over the forecast 32 degrees Celsius. The sun blazing down from the vivid blue, almost cloudless, sky baking the earth and creating a shimmering heat haze coming off the ground. The sweltering warmth ensured that the large group of men moving along either side of the road were soaked under their desert camouflage uniforms.

Ahead of them the track cut invitingly between two small rock-strewn hills that would provide some small amount of shade to the unit, and that fact urged the company forwards.

At the rear of the troop Sergeant Jack Maitland, the second-in-command of the patrol, walked slowly along the edge of the dusty trail that served as a highway in this part of the world. Maintaining the regulation distance from the man in front of him he trudged forwards, shading his eyes as he looked up towards the top of the slopes for any sign of a trap.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as his sixth sense told him that something wasn't quite right. He had been under fire several times before, in this tour of operations, and he knew how well the enemy could remain hidden until they were ready.

Carefully placing each booted foot onto the rough ground, he glanced searchingly from side to side at the bleak rock covered sandy landscape seeking anything that might reveal the presence of the Taliban.

Darker patches stained the armpits of his combat fatigues, evidence of just how much he was sweating under his helmet and Kevlar vest. The perspiration kept running into his eyes and blurring his vision while a constant trickle ran down his spine making his skin itch.

Shifting his SA80 rifle in his hands he rolled his shoulders trying to shift the weight of his bergen and ease the strain on his back. To Jack the sloping terrain they were walking towards looked perfect for an ambush and he checked around him again, issuing a brief order, to make sure that the men close to him were all focused and alert.

At the head of the patrol Lieutenant Carstairs held up a hand signalling a halt and almost as one the unit knelt, all of them keeping the eyes fixed on the area either side of them with their weapons at the ready. A few took the opportunity to drink some water although they never looked away from the surrounding landscape.

Studying the ground ahead of them carefully the young lieutenant contemplated his options.

"Clear, move on." A minute or so later his command came back down the line and, getting back to their feet, the troops started to slowly move forwards again.

"With me sergeant." the Lieutenant ordered Jack up alongside him.

"Sir." Jack jogged up to his commanding officer.

"I'm surprised they haven't set up an...." They had only gone another 100 yards when the IED (improvised explosive device) exploded cutting off the officer in mid-sentence.

In the space of that second the world around Jack Maitland changed into a desperate, chaotic mixture of smoke, dust and noise.

Despite being flung backwards onto the ground by the force of the blast Jack staggered straight back up onto his feet, ignoring the ringing in his ears. As he stood-up he felt a sharp pain in his leg and glanced down momentarily to see a sizeable piece of metal sticking out of his left thigh, a bright red stain starting to grow around it.

His eyes stung from the heat of the explosion and he swayed as a wave of dizziness swept over him. Struggling to regain his senses he blinked and wiped a hand across his face

At the front of the patrol Lieutenant Carstairs and one of the soldiers next to him, Jack's best friend corporal Colm McElhenny, had been caught in the main blast and both looked, at least to Jack, to be dead. A third, Danny Wright, had lost his foot and part of a limb below the knee and lay in the open screaming in pain.

"Medic... medic!" Jack shouted, ignoring the searing agony in his leg and beginning to issue orders, taking over command of the patrol as the first bullets whipped in amongst them, "The rest of you down and return fire."

"Aaaahhhhh." Behind him another one of his men fell back as he was hit by a random shot.

"Shit, fuck, shit!" Jack exclaimed under his breath staring up the slope and quickly estimating there had to be at least three or four terrorists hiding towards the top of rocky outcrop.

"Return fire." He ordered again somewhat unnecessarily, hefting his rifle to his shoulder and firing up into the top of the incline.

Turning to Chris Potter, the radio operator, he barked out another order "Send our co-ordinates and request air support and immediate medical evac."

"Sarge." Came back the confirmation from the communication specialist.

Even as he gave the order Jack knew it would be several minutes before the helicopters would reach them. Being pinned down in the open as they were could well mean more of his men being wounded, or even killed, before help arrived.

Examining the surrounding area, he made a quick decision and shouted for his men to lay down suppressing fire. Then, pushing himself up on his good leg, he darted to the side to get amongst the larger boulders at the bottom of the slope.

"Ahhhh... Fuck!" he cried out.

He had almost made it to cover when a blow to his shoulder spun him round and sent him crashing to the ground amongst the rocks. He knew he had been hit again and he sat up and checked himself. The bullet appeared to have gone straight through the flesh of his upper arm leaving another, smaller, gradually growing crimson stain on his battledress.

It felt a lot worse than it actually was he decided and getting sluggishly to his feet he began to cautiously move upwards again, his weapon at the ready, while using the bigger stones for cover. Each step was more painful than the previous and he could feel his concentration slowly ebbing away from him when a Taliban soldier appeared directly in front of him.

Fortunately, Jack saw him first, just by the merest fraction of a second, but it was enough for him to put two rounds into him before he could bring his weapon up to shoot.

Quickly checking the terrorist was dead he paused, hardly daring breathe as he waited to see if any more extremists appeared, his heart thudding against his ribs as he crouched down. Finally, concluding it all seemed quiet he felt safe enough to move on upwards.

Proceeding more carefully now, even though the sound of his movements were almost completely masked by the exchange of shots going on across the slope, he rounded a large rock to look down on the three remaining terrorists. Two of them had his men pinned down with accurate semi-automatic rifle fire while the third was busy assembling a mortar, obviously with the intention of lobbing shells down onto his men below.

"Aihtaras... jundiin!"

A shout from one of the Taliban told Jack he had been spotted and roused him into action, quickly bringing his weapon up and squeezing the trigger.

The exchange of fire was brief, no more than a few seconds, with Jack sending a series of two-shot bursts into the group as they fired back at him. He knew he had hit two of them before a bullet hit him in the chest, sending him flying backwards into the dirt and knocking the air from his lungs.

"Oh fuck.... Deb." He whispered as his eyes closed and the blackness took him.

~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter two ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leaning against the door frame Claire Simmonds sighed in total exasperation, "Oh come on, please, just the one date? For me? Pretty please."

"No! I mean it Claire, no more. That last guy you tried to set me up with was horrible. He was old enough to be my dad." Deborah Randall told her friend and workmate.

"Come on that's a little excessive." Claire laughed, "He was 38, that's only fourteen years older than you."

Shaking her head Debbie continued, "And he was a total lecher. Just because I agreed to have dinner with him, he thought that meant I had to sleep with him."

"Yeah, sorry about that but to be fair I had never met him. He was just a friend of a friend." Claire admitted ruefully.

"He was like a bloody octopus. His hands were all over me." She ignored her friend's comment.

Claire raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Don't give me that look, it wasn't pleasant." Deborah announced angrily, "I wasn't so bothered about him trying to grope my breasts outside my dress but when he kept trying to put his hand up my skirt. That's when I told him to fuck off."

"But Brandon is completely different Deb's. I know him and he's a really nice guy, he's your age and really, really sweet." Claire went back to pleading with her.

In the, almost, three years the two girls had known each other they had become firm friends despite all their differences. The slightly older Claire was a curvy 38D-26-38, a flirtatious and cute brunette with a tendency to change boyfriends as often as she changed her shoes, she worked two offices along the corridor.

Whereas the much quieter Debbie was a couple of years younger at twenty-four, 5' 8" tall with a slim 34B-24-34 figure and had a long mane of blonde hair that hung down way past her shoulder blades.

"No, I'm sorry that's it, I mean it. No more blind dates. I'm happy just as I am."

Claire stepped into the office and leaned on Debbie's desk, "Please. Just this one more Deb's. Then I promise I'll stop."

"No, you won't." the blonde laughed, "You always say it's the last time and it never is."

"Ok I lied, but this guy is really nice. Honestly."

"Anyway, why are you doing this to me?" Debbie shook her head, "I don't need or want a boyfriend."

"Ah... you only think you don't." Claire smiled back, "You haven't had a proper relationship in the three years I've known you. You have to admit that's not normal."

"I'm happy as I am." The younger girl protested with a rueful smile, "Why can't you accept that?"

Claire grinned, "Now I know that's not true Deborah. You appear that way on the outside but what you need to make you properly happy is a man. Trust me on this one."

Debbie sighed and rolled her eyes, reluctantly surrendering to her friend's persistence, "OK, ok I give in. Just one more date. I'll go out with this... this what's his name?"

"Brandon, his name is Brandon and I'll get him to call you."

"But no more after this one. Promise me?" Debbie asserted.

"Cross my heart and hope to die." Claire laughed and winked at her "At least until the next time."

Deb's knew Claire was probably right. It had been a long while since she had had a proper boyfriend, perhaps it was time for her to come out of her shell and consider having a relationship again. It was a constant battle between her heart and her mind, she knew she should really move on with her life it was just that one important part of her that didn't want to.

Pushing the discussion with her friend from her mind she sat down at her desk and concentrated on work again. There were e-mails to respond to, calls to answer and a management report to complete.

She was still engrossed with her job a couple of hours later when her office phone rang.

"Hello. Debbie Randall. How can I help you?" She picked her phone up, her brain on automatic.

A rather nervous and hesitant male voice on the other end of the line introduced itself as Brandon.

"Oh hi, yes, yes, Claire said you'd be calling."

The disembodied voice spoke again as Debbie listened and thought to herself that this one seemed really keen. She wanted to politely decline his invitation but she knew Claire would badger her for ages if she did. It was just going to be a lot easier to simply go and get it over and done with.

"No, no, Saturday will be absolutely fine with me. I know the restaurant. I'll meet you outside at 7.30."

She half listened, carrying on with her work, as the voice continued to drone on informing her that Claire had told him all about her and that he was eager to finally meet her at the week-end.

"Me too, I'm looking forward to it as well." Debbie lied convincingly, "Bye Brandon, see you Saturday."

Putting the phone down she sighed and once again thought that just maybe her friend was right when she had said that she needed a man in her life. He had sounded nice so perhaps it was time to make changes. But if that was the case, why did she dread going on yet another blind date?

Saturday was almost a whole week away, maybe she would get a little more enthusiastic by then she thought to herself, and went diligently back to her tasks.

"Well? Did Brandon call?" Claire stuck her head round the door just before five, "He said he was going to."

"Yes, he called." Debbie sighed, once again slightly irritated by her friend's persistence.

"And? When are you seeing him? You are going to go out with him, aren't you?"

Tidying her desk Debbie looked up, "Saturday. I'm having dinner with him on Saturday."

"You won't regret it hon. I promise." Claire grinned.

Deb sighed "That remains to be seen."

Parting company with her friend outside the offices Deborah headed home. Spending the twenty-minute walk to her flat wondering just how she could get out of her date that coming week-end without upsetting her friend.

She was still contemplating it when she opened her front door and stepped inside.

"Hi. I'm home." She called out.

~~~~~~~~~ Chapter three ~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack Maitland kept his eyes shut against the glare of the dazzling overhead lights and, wondering why he was still alive, tried to speak. However, despite his best efforts all that came out of his mouth was a strangled sort of noise.

"Whheeeeee.... Ummmm..."

"Welcome back sergeant. We thought we had lost you there for a bit." A soft female voice reached him from far away and he forced his eyes to open despite the brightness.

"Urrmmmmhhhhh!" he mumbled trying, with some difficulty, to focus on the speaker.

"Don't try to talk. Your throats dry from the tube." A pretty brunette in combat fatigues wearing a red cross armband sat alongside the bed smiling at him.

Jack weakly lifted his hand to acknowledge her, getting an even bigger smile as a reward for his efforts.

"Hello Jack. I'm Lorna, I've been looking after you." Her eyes lit up as she spoke to him, "You had us worried there for a bit. You've been out for quite a while but now that you're awake the doctor will want to see you, before we airlift you back to the main base hospital."

He laid his head back on his pillow, his eyes closed collecting his thoughts, while the nurse went off to find the doctor or whoever it was that needed to talk to him.

He couldn't remember very much of what had happened after the attack; his patrol had found him semi-conscious up on the slope and he recalled the heavy 'whump-whump' of the rotor blades on the helicopter as he was evacuated but everything else after he had been hit in the chest, apart from that, was just a blank to him.

What he did know was that he was alive and he really didn't expect, or want, to be.

"Hello, I'm Captain Braithwaite. How are you sergeant?" A voice jerked Jack back to the present and he opened his eyes, looking up to see an older man in a white coat covering his fatigues, standing over him.

The doctor shook his head as Jack tried to answer, "Don't try to speak sergeant. We'll take the tube out later. You'll find it a lot easier to chat after that."

Nodding his response he waited, noticing that Lorna had re-appeared, standing just behind the captain, holding out his chart. Taking the board from her the doctor smiled at the pretty nurse and then focused his attention on the readings.

"You're a lucky man sergeant Maitland. You know if that piece of shrapnel had been just six inches lower it would have shattered your knee instead of sticking in your thigh." He didn't look at his patient as he spoke, just continued to study the chart, "Fortunately, it missed your femoral artery as well, by no more than an inch."

He continued to meticulously study Jack's notes.

"There were no broken bones apart from the two cracked ribs resulting from the bullet impact on your Kevlar vest and the wound to your shoulder went through tissue and not bone. So.... all's as well as it can be I think." The doctor eventually added.

Finishing his review Captain Braithwaite finally looked up, "I believe we can evacuate you out to base hospital tomorrow or the next day. After that they can decide when to ship you home for a long spot of leave for you to convalesce."

Checking Jack over, he took his pulse and other vital signs before updating his notes.

"Excellent." He stated succinctly when he was done.

Handing the chart back to the nurse and turned to Jack for a brief moment, smiling broadly, "It's nice to have you back with us again sergeant."

Once the doctor had left Lorna got to work and the tube was soon removed from down his throat. After allowing him to take a few sips of water Jack started to find his voice albeit a rather hoarse and croaky one to begin with.

"What happened to Lieutenant Carstairs and Colm and the others?" his first words to his nurse were not about himself but the soldiers in his platoon.

"I'm sorry, the Lieutenant and one of the men in your patrol were killed instantly in the explosion." She took his hand and squeezed it gently her eyes full of sympathy, "Another one, Danny I think his name is, he's in a critical condition and two more were wounded as well."

Jack laid his head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, "Shit, shit, shit!"

"You know you're quite the hero, your actions saved the rest of your men. It wouldn't surprise me if you get a medal." Lorna stood up and smiled at him in way that suggested more than just a professional interest, "Whatever happens you'll be on your way home soon Jack, so try to get some rest till then."

He flopped back onto the bed, ignoring her comments, "Why? Why the fuck wasn't it me?"

"It obviously wasn't your time." his nurse sighed, brushing his hair back from his forehead, and looked at him knowingly, "And she's a bloody fool for letting you go Jack. Whoever she is?"

"What?" he looked at her completely puzzled, "How?"

Lorna smiled and turned to leave, "Hasn't anyone ever told you, you talk in your sleep."

After she had gone, he stared at the ceiling her words going round and round in his brain raising memories that started tormenting him all over again. He could feel the tears prick his eyes as he thought of her, and of his CO and Colm, wishing it could have been him instead of them.

Eventually, with a lot of difficulty, he forced himself to push the thoughts aside and closed his eyes.

Within minute's he was asleep again.

~~~~~~~~ Chapter four ~~~~~~~~~~

Debbie's week at work was an extremely busy one and she had very little time to think about her upcoming blind date with Brandon on the Saturday night. She already had an appointment booked to have her nails done otherwise she wouldn't have bothered to do it specifically for her date.

Claire breezed into the office last thing on the Friday afternoon, "Well that's another week over."

"Thank god for that. I thought it would never end." Debbie replied, also relieved that a long and busy week was over.

"All ready for tomorrow evening then?" Claire asked casually as the younger blonde tidied her things away.

"What about it?" Debbie's response lacked the enthusiasm her friend was hoping for.

"You know? Your date? With Brandon." Claire reminded her friend with more than a hint of exasperation in her voice.