Only Yours

36

Jonty's P.O.V

The sun beats down on my neck and I reach up, scratching at the peeling skin. Great. Just what I need. Sunburn.

'Got nits, Jony?' Jimmy, my best friend here in Afghanistan, drops off the roof and lands next to me in the land rover. He's meant to be up on the top, looking out for enemy snipers, but I don't blame him for coming down. The sun is relentless here in Helmand.

'Sunburn, arsehole.' I snap. The heat is making me cranky and I scratch irritably as Oswin, the driver, hits a pothole at the wrong angle and bounces the entire car.

'Shit.' Jimmy rubs his head and I grin. The lads make fun of me for being short but it can come in handy.

'You shipping out tomorrow, Jony?' Creg asks. Creg is a well-humoured Scotsman in his mid-thirties whose been here longer than anyone. He should be the one leaving tomorrow, not me, but as he cheerfully put it, 'There's no one for me back home, lad, and there's plenty for you.' He'd been looking at me meaningfully when he'd said that.

I told the other men in my barracks about my family. The moment I set foot in the tents Brian, my first friend here, had yelled, 'You're Jonathan Holmes! Sherlock's son!' He hadn't told anyone else but he was constantly asking questions about what it was like with a famous father, a smart arse brother, gay parents etc.

I didn't bother telling him my name wasn't Jonathan Holmes. When I registered to join the army I put my name down as Jonathan Watson, the name I've gone by for most of my life.

Two days later, Brian was blown up in front of me by a land mine. Since then, I've been Jony Watson.

My barracks, Eta 8, consist of twelve-fifteen people at a time, but there are six of us who haven't been killed, wounded or sent home in the two years since I joined. There's me, Jimmy, Creg, Caddie, Tigger and Kat. Kat's an eighteen year old girl who joined just after me. A couple of days later, she made a play at me and I quietly informed her I was as gay as Sherlock Holmes and soon after that her and Jimmy started dating. It's adorable, really.

Creg pulls up at Sterga 2, the second biggest camp here at Helmand. I was meant to leave Camp Bastion this morning, but my helicopter was cancelled. No biggie. I'll leave from Sterga 2 tomorrow morning.

Tomorrow morning is Will's birthday and I'm almost bursting with excitement. Today is my last day in Afghanistan. Afterwards I will go home forever. I can get together with Will, we can get married and have kids and live happily ever after.

I thought I'd ruined things when I saw Eddy O'Brien, Joseph Moriarty's main lacky, at the wedding and run off. Moriarty Snr. Had called me later that day and told me he would hurt Will, but nothing's happened and once I get back to England I can protect him myself.

We unload from the cars until all of Eta 8 is standing in front of someone who's obviously in command. He looks really young, only seventeen or eighteen, but his blonde hair is cut military styles and his sunglasses add an air of mystery to him.

'Greeting, Eta 8.' His smile looks really familiar and for a second I think I recognise him but quickly brush the thought away. I don't want to be recognised here and I'm sure whoever the commander is feels the same way.

As the man starts to talk, pacing down the line of soldiers, I subtly put my hand in the top of my pack and feel for Benedict and Martin, my good luck charms. I've kept them with me always since I was thirteen years old.

'I am your commander, Jiles Moran. I am told you are all seasoned soldiers so I feel no need to go through the ropes with you. It will be dark in three hours and I want a patrol run through the night. There have been disturbances in nearby villages and I want to make sure everything is alright. The first shift will be; Jimmy Hartley, Creg Murray and Jony Watson. They will arrive back at camp at half twelve. I hear, Jony, it's your last night here in Afghanistan.' He pulls his sunglasses down and stares straight at me, his gaze as cold and unnerving as a snakes. 'Let's try and keep you out of trouble.'