Flash Point by James W. Huston Page A

one morning on leave in Naples and saw the big gray ship had left without me.”
    “She know about this?”
    “I talked to her on the phone the last day we were in Venice.”
    “She said it was all right?”
    “It was her idea.”
    Woods shook his head. “I don’t like it, Boomer. Why’d you tell me all this?”
    “You’re my friend. If you see me doing something really stupid you’ll tell me.”
    “Okay. I see you doing something really stupid. I don’t even know if we’re
allowed
to visit Israel on our own. I don’t know if it’s on the list—”
    “It’s not. I asked Pritch.”
    “Don’t do it,” Woods said.
    “Why?”
    “It’s illegal. It’s not the safest place in the world. You’re going to lose your wings if you get caught.”
    “I’ll be back before you know it.”
    “I’m
telling
you not to go.”
    Vialli was taken aback. “Telling me meaning what? An order? You gonna
order
me not to go?”
    Woods had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m
ordering
you not to go.”
    “Oh please. It’s
my
skin.”
    “It’s mine too, now. If something happens they’ll be all over me for not stopping you.”
    “You can say you didn’t know about it.”
    “Just lie?”
    “Sure. They won’t know the difference.”
    “
I
sure will. I’m telling you, don’t go.”
    “I hear you, and I’m going anyway.”
    “I can’t let you—”
    “You’re really something,” Vialli said, the veins in his neck straining. “You follow the rules when it suits you. But when you want to have a little fun, like
thumping
my ass in the middle of the night from a cloudbank, that’s fine! Right? You’re fine with breaking a few rules when it’s
you
, and you think it’s clever, or funny, or shows how adventurous you are. And I’m just supposed to look the other way, not report you for a
flight
violation, like I should have. But when it’s someone else who wants to bend one, and not one that’s gonna get us killed, just one to go visit a girlfriend, then you get all high and mighty.” He was angry. “That’s bullshit, Trey!”
    Woods was stung. “It’s completely different.”
    Vialli got up. “Maybe. But I’m going. If you want to tell the CO and get my ass in trouble, feel free. And if you do, I swear to God I’ll write you up for a flight violation for thumping me. Just try me.”
    Before Woods could stop him, Vialli was on his feet, turning his back on his roommate and walking out of the wardroom.
     
8
     
    Vialli stepped off the El Al Airbus 320 at the Tel Aviv airport. He looked at the California-like terrain through the huge windows and was instantly charmed by the brightness of the sunshine and the blue sky. He was in a mood to be charmed. He felt his stomach tighten when he saw Irit waiting for him. She walked up to him slowly, smiling her perfectly shaped smile. She was wearing tight jeans that just touched her black shoes and a black long-sleeved T-shirt sharply outlining her shape, its sleeves pulled up to the middle of her forearms. Her black leather belt had a silver buckle that Vialli immediately noticed. On it, in English, were the words Israeli Defense Force as well as some Hebrew writing and the figure of an Israeli fighter.
    “Hi,” he said softly as she approached.
    She kissed him on the lips, her right hand still in her pocket. “Shalom,” she said.
    “Oh, oh,” he said. “Do I have to learn Hebrew?”
    She smiled. “Of course not. Most people speak English.”
    “That’s lucky,” he said. He glanced around the terminal, taking it all in. “Lot of soldiers around here,” he said, stating the obvious. There were uniformed soldiers with submachine guns every fifty feet.
    “You’ll get used to them. They’re everywhere. I like having them around.”
    “Thanks for inviting me,” he said, picking up his bag. He was trying hard not to look like a Naval officer, to look like any other twenty-something man. He had even let his