NERVES OF STEEL

CHAPTER 23- TENDED TO BY HER ENEMY

                  Groaning in pains, Diane sat on the small bed in the corner of her personal cabin. She looked around for a first aid box. None! Fuck! Back there, she had fallen on some broken glass on the ground and now she was loosing blood. What now? She had to act fast. It was 11pm. Most of the men would be asleep in order to rise early tomorrow.

               Grabbing a rag from the floor, she tried her best to subdue the bleeding. They might not have proper medical attention till they returned back to Saint Petersburg and God knows what will be the state of her by then. This could even get her withdrawn from the mission. Shit!

              And the captain, she noticed he was sort of like her father. Trying to find a way to prove that she was weak and not good enough. She couldn't let him have the last laugh. She was just about to take off her gear but just then she heard a knock on her door. Who could that be? She thought, still holding the rag to her bleeding side.

              Diane reached out and opened the door only to come face to face with the last person she wanted to see. Okay maybe not face to face because he was way taller. Six foot six to five foot five wasn't a very fair match. It was safe to say she had the least height among the other Soldiers.

             Surprised, Russo corked his head to the side noticing the rag she was holding against her side. So his hunch right. In a swift move, she tried to slam the door shut but somehow, something was preventing that from happening. She looked down, it was his leg wedged against the door.

"What do you want?" She asked, trying to suppress the pain in her voice but it was still obvious.
"You're bleeding." He simply said, taking in the sight of the blood.
"I'm fine."
Russo looked above her head into the small room and her heart skipped a beat in realization.
"You can't come in. This is a woman's private cabin."
A faint smirk curled up the side of his lip. "And who's that woman?"
"What?" How dare him? She felt offended.
"Out here in the open fields, you're no different from any man. Get used to it."
"And out here you're not my Superior. You're no different from any of us."
"Ah! Right! That explains the audacity. These things always comes with consequences."
"I-no." She shook her head. "You still can't come inside—"

                     Her voice trailed off as he pushed the door further open with one hand, allowing himself access into the room. He walked the small space around for awhile and then crouched in front of the small fire place. Kneeling down in front of it, he began to light the fireplace. She watched him, speechless and confused. That was when she noticed what he was holding was a....firstaid box. Russo got to his feet and set the box on the table.

"That was an awesome fight out there." He commended.
"I lost."
"And you'll keep losing of you see it that way."
"What?"
"Don't think of it as a loss, think of it as a lesson."
"It's certainly one hell of a lesson." She said as she sat down on the bed, whincing her nose in pain."
"Here's the thing, tiger." He started, the nickname catching her by surprise. "If you were to face Lewis again tomorrow, what would be your chances of winning?"
"40%?" Diane frowned.
"That's how many more than today?"
Her eyes narrowed in sudden realization. "30 perharps?"
"Good and why? Because you didn't just lose, you learned something today. You learned some of his techniques and that's all you need to finalize and when you do?"
"I'd know how to counter them and then, win."
"But it'll take more than one training session. So never be scared or ashamed of losing. Just make sure you've learned. Afterall, there's no rising without a fall." Russo said.
She nodded, holding his gaze. Surprisingly she was feeling lighter.

            He walked away from the fireplace. Russo pushed the table separating them aside and then crouched down in front of her. He obviously wanted to tend to her wounds but he had to see how bad they were first.

"Take off your shirt."
"What? No!"
"I need to see how bad it is or would you rather, we flew you back home?"
Not wanting to be withdrawn, Diane pulled up her shirt, revealing the ugly wound on her side.
"There happened to be broken glasses on the grounds."

                She could see his jaw clench as he simply nodded, not saying a word. He reached out to the first aid box and pulled out an antiseptic bottle along with the cotton wool. Just as he was about to clean the wound, Diane held his hand. He looked up a question at her. The expression on her face was skeptical.

"What are you doing?" She asked but he knew there was a thousand other questions behind that one simple question.
"Cleaning a wound?"
"Drop the act, Russo Fedorcenko."  She snapped, causing him to reveal a dim smile.
"Do you always call my full name whenever you're angry?"
"Wh-at? No I don't—" Her voice trailed off, realizing that was exactly what she does.
"You do, don't do?" He asked.
"That's not the question here? Why are you helping me?"
"We might be on very ugly terms but that doesn't mean, I'd leave a fellow comrade to die."
"What?"
"Ofcourse I don't like you anymore than you do." Russo said.
"Who's talking about death here? It's a minor flesh wound that....."
"....could get infected." He cut in, sternly. "Besides.... I owe you one." Russo said, referring to that night in the cottage.
"Knock yourself out." She rolled her eyes.

                  Russo dabbed a piece of cotton wool in antiseptic spray and wiped the blood off the wound. Diane winced as the liquid burned into her injury.

"Sorry. Lewis can be very.....aggressive." She heard him say, not looking up at her. His eyes were rather focused on the cut. This wasn't the first time this man had come to her rescue but the odd question was...._why?_  The last step was the bandage plastered on her side and then he was done.

"Thank you."
"It's a big day, tomorrow. So get some rest." He simply said, leaving the box behind, he walked out of her cabin.

             Diane got up to her feet once he was gone. Her side still hurt, with the bandage plastered on her side being the only memory that her enemy just got on his knees in front where she sat and tended to her wound a few minutes ago. She watched him from her window.

                He wasn't going back to the others, rather he sat on the open grass, a few feet away from the other cabins. Though, she couldn't decipher what could be going through his mind, it was obvious there was a lot in it. The pressure of being a General must be hard on him but was that all?