23: Nightmare

The cool Singapore night seemed alive with the sound of human activity.  Trams and cars buzzed about, people chattered and laughed, and above it all the moon shone bright in the sky.  I’d had this nightmare too many times before not to recognise it.

I was walking down the road with my girlfriend on my arm.  To many people she was Lieutenant Colditz of the Confederate Naval Forces, and to some of our peers she was Lisa, but to me she was the amazing young woman who had helped me break away from the black dog of depression after my fiancé, Marine 2^nd Lieutenant Ashleigh ‘Crash’ Potter and I had split up.  Lisa and I had been a solid couple for the last six months, but as we were both working in the same HQ department at the time, the Navy regulations forbade us from having a relationship.  We’d managed to keep it a complete secret for long enough that I was almost due to transfer out, which would have meant we could be together.  I was more than ready to transfer to a new department.

Our superiors, not knowing we were romantically linked, had paired us up for a brief undercover mission in Singapore.  Ironically, our cover was as a husband and wife.  We had received a tip-off, and were on our way to investigate.  Lisa spotted an alleyway up ahead.

“That must be it,” she muttered to me.

“Okay.”

It had already been arranged that she would walk into the alleyway to have a look around.  I had a small pistol in a lightweight holster strapped around my waist, but Lisa was unarmed.  Don’t go down there, Lisa, please don’t go down there.

“Wish me luck, Sam.”

“Good luck.  See you in a minute.”

I stood at the corner, just outside the alleyway, while she went in for a look.  Keeping my eyes peeled and scanning the crowds, I waited for her to return.  I already knew what happened next, I’d relived this next minute a thousand times.

There was a blood-curdling scream from the alleyway.  I stood rooted to the spot for a moment, petrified, then turned and ran into the alleyway.  The little revolver was in my hand, and before I knew what had happened I had fired three shots.  I caught Lisa as she collapsed, crashing into her from behind.

“Lisa!  Lisa, are you hurt?”

She was spluttering, gasping for air.  She’d been stabbed.  I pressed my hand down on the bloody wound in her chest, trying to stem the bleeding.  We sank to the dirty, damp floor of the alleyway and I clutched her to me, arms wrapped around her as she lay in my lap.

“Sam…” she said weakly, looking up at me with wide, scared eyes.  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Sam, it wasn’t supposed to end this way.”

She was gasping for breath, talking fast.  I fished my mobile link out of my pocket with bloody fingers and speed-dialled for backup.  “You’re gonna be fine, Lisa, just hold on.  The team’s on their way.”

I voice linked, and before Lt. Casey could say a word I shouted “Colditz is down, get an ambulance, now!”

I heard Casey say “Right away”, and I hung up.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” she wheezed.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Lisa, you’ll be fine.”

“Wasn’t supposed to end this way.  Did you get them?  Sam, did you get the two guys?”

“Yeah, I got them.  I got them, they’re gone.”

“You know what you gotta do now, Sam, right?  You gotta catch this Wade guy, right?  You got this?”

“Don’t worry about that, Lisa,” I said, eyes blurring with tears.  “I’ve got this, I’ve got everything.”

“Did I do well, Sam?  Did I find it?”

“Yeah, Lisa, honey, you did great.”

“I did a good job?”

“You did beautifully, honey, you were great.”

“Sam…  Sam, I love you.”

“I love you too, Lisa.  I love you so much.”

“I love… I… love…”

The ambulances didn’t arrive for another twenty minutes, but even if they could have come in two it would have still been too late.

Four days later, a military funeral was held for Lt. Lisa Colditz, CNF.  Her casket arrived home on a Howard-class frigate, draped in an Australian flag.  I met her parents for the first time at the wake, and I could only shake her father’s hand as we both stood there, crying like toddlers.  A month later, I stood in a locked room with no windows, along with Lt. Casey and the rest of the six-man team.  A portrait of Lisa wearing her black uniform blazer and sitting in front of the national flag stood on a small table.  Her mother and father stood on one side of the table, and a blank-faced man in a suit stood on the other.  Her mother cried as the man presented them with a small, black leather case and opened it to show them the medal.

“On behalf of the Federal Government of New Australia and the Confederate Naval Forces, it is my solemn duty to present you with the Intelligence Star, awarded to Lieutenant Lisa Marie Colditz for sacrifice above and beyond the call of duty in service of her country’s national interest.”

And then it was a week later, at her parents’ house in New Melbourne, and I was sitting across the coffee table from her father with Lt. Casey beside me.

“And you must be John Casey,” her father said.

“Yes, sir,” replied Casey.

“And you were both there when my little girl was murdered?”

“Yes, sir,” we both replied.  We both were wearing our uniform blazers, holding our white officers’ caps on our laps and gripping them tightly.

“Tell me how it happened,” her father said to Casey.

“Well, sir,” he hesitated, “I wasn’t… I was standing by several streets away, so I wasn’t there the moment it happened.  I arrived a few minutes later.”

Her father simply switched his gaze to me without a word.  He was neither angry nor sad, but simply… hollow.  “And you?”

“Yes, sir, I was there.  She went into an alleyway to search for a door, while I waited on the street.  She was unarmed, but I was carrying a revolver.  I, uh… I heard her scream, so I ran into the alley.  There were two males with her, and she was engaged in fighting them when I arrived.  I could see that she was in trouble, and I immediately engaged the two attackers.  I caught Lisa as she fell, and I tried to…”

I trailed off.  Her father’s eyes bored into mine like lasers.

“How did she die?”

My chest felt tight, like there was a steel band wrapped around my ribs.  “She… she was stabbed, sir.  Her lung was punctured, causing it to collapse.  She passed out in less than two minutes, and expired shortly after.  She went peacefully, sir…  I’m sorry, sir, I couldn’t save her.  There was nothing I could do to save her.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.”