captive. Even in his own room he could not get away from these eager Germans.
“No, but seriously,” said Hans. “The Coast Guard has a boat in these waters currently. I was put through to them. Also there are some local cadets they are helping, a mentoring exercise. The Americans are training them in search-and-rescue, so it will be like a practice.”
“I don’t . . . give me a second, I have to splash some . . .” He was mumbling as he retreated, but still they stepped into the room after him.
Gretel pulled open the drapes with a certain exuberance.
“You need some fresh air in here, Hal Lindley!” she said.
Probably to let out the morning breath.
Germans were not known for their sense of humor, he reflected as he brushed his teeth, the flimsy bathroom door shut carefully behind him. Their idea of a joke was not his own, that was all. Cultural barrier. Not uncommon. But he could have used another hour of sleep.
Let them stand there in all their terrible beauty. He was secure here in the bathroom, with a toothbrush and a tap and a clean toilet. In the end there was not much more a man truly needed.
But it could not last forever. Breath freshened, head aching, he stepped out again. There was no helping it.
“They will arrive tomorrow,” said Hans. “The Coast Guard and also the cadets. All of them.”
“Ha . . . it isn’t that funny, though,” said Hal. He hoped the fly on his boxers was not gaping. Couldn’t risk a downward glance, however. He was already playing the buffoon in this particular comedy. Where were yesterday’s pants?
He bent down and grappled with the bedcovers.
“No, but really, really,” said Gretel, and smiled again. “It is a special task force! There will be approximately twenty persons.”
“That’s impossible,” said Hal flatly.
He felt around under the bed for the pants, found them collapsed in a heap.
“Hans was just talking to his friends,” said Gretel. “It’s not a problem.”
“Hans has friends in the Coast Guard?”
“Actually they are working for NATO,” said Hans, nodding. “The Supreme Allied Command Atlantic. In Virginia?”
“He consults for them on the avionics systems,” said Gretel.
“I called in a small favor,” said Hans.
Hal shuffled away from them to pull the pants on. When he zipped up and turned back, their heads were backlit by the window and their faces indistinct; he saw them for a second as leviathans. They might be slim and standing there in their G-string swimwear, which had an all-too-floral tendency and made them look far more naked, even, than him. But in the strength of their Teutonic conviction he put his finger on what it was about them.
They were machines of efficiency, purposeful. Even in the simple act of unwrapping a granola bar there was the sense of a necessary fueling.
•
“ I ’m afraid you may be drinking too much,” said Susan.
She had him paged in the dining room while he was eating his breakfast. Because the Germans were sitting at the table with him, believing him to be a family man who was close to his loving wife, he could hardly refuse to take the call. Reluctantly he had followed the waiter to a telephone at the end of the front desk.
“Not at all,” he said.
“What was that fax about, then?”
“It was accurate. There’s a task force involved. Something to do with NATO.”
“Come on, Hal. I don’t get how you’re acting, these last few days. I’m asking you please just to be serious.”
He had brought his coffee cup to the phone with him and took the opportunity to sip from it with a certain poised nonchalance, his telephone elbow braced on the high, polished wood of the counter.
Robert the Paralegal could not raise a task force. A Trojan perhaps, but not a task force. None.
“What can I say? I met Germans with connections. Germans who refuse to take no for an answer, I’m guessing.”
“See? This is what I mean, Hal. You just don’t make that much sense right
“No, but seriously,” said Hans. “The Coast Guard has a boat in these waters currently. I was put through to them. Also there are some local cadets they are helping, a mentoring exercise. The Americans are training them in search-and-rescue, so it will be like a practice.”
“I don’t . . . give me a second, I have to splash some . . .” He was mumbling as he retreated, but still they stepped into the room after him.
Gretel pulled open the drapes with a certain exuberance.
“You need some fresh air in here, Hal Lindley!” she said.
Probably to let out the morning breath.
Germans were not known for their sense of humor, he reflected as he brushed his teeth, the flimsy bathroom door shut carefully behind him. Their idea of a joke was not his own, that was all. Cultural barrier. Not uncommon. But he could have used another hour of sleep.
Let them stand there in all their terrible beauty. He was secure here in the bathroom, with a toothbrush and a tap and a clean toilet. In the end there was not much more a man truly needed.
But it could not last forever. Breath freshened, head aching, he stepped out again. There was no helping it.
“They will arrive tomorrow,” said Hans. “The Coast Guard and also the cadets. All of them.”
“Ha . . . it isn’t that funny, though,” said Hal. He hoped the fly on his boxers was not gaping. Couldn’t risk a downward glance, however. He was already playing the buffoon in this particular comedy. Where were yesterday’s pants?
He bent down and grappled with the bedcovers.
“No, but really, really,” said Gretel, and smiled again. “It is a special task force! There will be approximately twenty persons.”
“That’s impossible,” said Hal flatly.
He felt around under the bed for the pants, found them collapsed in a heap.
“Hans was just talking to his friends,” said Gretel. “It’s not a problem.”
“Hans has friends in the Coast Guard?”
“Actually they are working for NATO,” said Hans, nodding. “The Supreme Allied Command Atlantic. In Virginia?”
“He consults for them on the avionics systems,” said Gretel.
“I called in a small favor,” said Hans.
Hal shuffled away from them to pull the pants on. When he zipped up and turned back, their heads were backlit by the window and their faces indistinct; he saw them for a second as leviathans. They might be slim and standing there in their G-string swimwear, which had an all-too-floral tendency and made them look far more naked, even, than him. But in the strength of their Teutonic conviction he put his finger on what it was about them.
They were machines of efficiency, purposeful. Even in the simple act of unwrapping a granola bar there was the sense of a necessary fueling.
•
“ I ’m afraid you may be drinking too much,” said Susan.
She had him paged in the dining room while he was eating his breakfast. Because the Germans were sitting at the table with him, believing him to be a family man who was close to his loving wife, he could hardly refuse to take the call. Reluctantly he had followed the waiter to a telephone at the end of the front desk.
“Not at all,” he said.
“What was that fax about, then?”
“It was accurate. There’s a task force involved. Something to do with NATO.”
“Come on, Hal. I don’t get how you’re acting, these last few days. I’m asking you please just to be serious.”
He had brought his coffee cup to the phone with him and took the opportunity to sip from it with a certain poised nonchalance, his telephone elbow braced on the high, polished wood of the counter.
Robert the Paralegal could not raise a task force. A Trojan perhaps, but not a task force. None.
“What can I say? I met Germans with connections. Germans who refuse to take no for an answer, I’m guessing.”
“See? This is what I mean, Hal. You just don’t make that much sense right
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