yeah. I get paid triple the salary I pulled in the air force. It’s not as easy as being in. The politics are worse, believe it or not.”
“Ah. There are politics everywhere.”
“So what are you really here for, Boomer?” David asked abruptly. “I heard rumors that you’d given up combat. But instead of going to a civilian bomb squad you went… to find dead people?” He sounded skeptical, and when he put it baldly like that, he could see what he meant.
“Yeah.” He couldn’t count the ways in which he didn’t want to talk about this, especially not to Nitro. Especially not sober. “Hey, maybe we’ll save the soul-searching until we’re better lubricated?”
“Deal. Tonight? Your hotel has about the only bar in a fifty-mile radius, apart from my hotel. And I’m sick of that bar. Say, eight? We have a good few years to catch up on.”
“Yes, we do.” Matt agreed.
“Here we are,” David said as they skidded to a halt on a sandy path. “I’m not going further; this has a ton of bulletproof shit on it—if it gets caught in the sand, we are never getting it out. And I’m not having it taken out of my paycheck. You can walk the rest.”
“Really?” he said, undoing his seatbelt. “Well if I get shot walking from here to there”—he pointed at Harry’s ops center trailer—“you better not get a fucking bonus this year.”
David’s constant smile faded as he took off his shades.
“I’m kidding, bud,” Matt said.
“No. Look. That’s… no, that’s not… it can’t be, right?” His voice started to get high-pitched and wobbly. “It’s just the desert, right? A mirage? The country’s fucking with us right?” He looked at Matt. “You don’t see her, right?”
Matt’s heart sank as he realized that Nitro had just seen Harry walking toward them. “We’re not in a
Tom and Jerry
cartoon, dude. No chick is going to arrive in a grass skirt with a cocktail in a pineapple skin.”
For the first time ever, Nitro looked terrified, white and sweating, like he really had seen a ghost.
“It’s me, right? This is my punishment?”
“Punishment for what? Pull yourself together, man. That’s Harry, Danny’s wife. She’s an archaeologist. She’s really here. Come on. Get ahold of yourself. You don’t want her to see you having a fit of the vapors, do you?”
Matt watched as David slowly pulled himself together. Matt obviously wasn’t the only fucked-up member of the team, then. For a second he wondered about the other four guys who usually deployed in their rotation. Justin, Liam, Bill, and Mark. Maybe there wasn’t anything unusual about his own flashbacks after all. Maybe they were all messed up.
Harry stood in front of the truck waiting for him to get out. He stole a look at David. How well did he know her? Or had he met her before Danny died? David reached for the interior door handle and opened the door. Matt got out, too.
“Harry, this is David Church. He was…” Matt began.
“Yes, I know. David? I know you were kind enough to come to the house after Danny died; I recognize your face, but not your name. It was all a bit of a blur. You played ball with Danny’s little sister when you visited. Thank you for that. Thank you for visiting. And it’s nice to meet you again.”
He watched them shake hands, smiling, but his brain was whirring in a bad direction. He hadn’t thought to visit Harry. Okay, that was a lie. He had thought about going around to pay his respects to Danny’s family, but he hadn’t. He’d worried that some big guy coming around and breaking down in front of them wouldn’t do them any favors. And by the time Danny’s death became “normal” inside his head, it was really too late to make a courtesy call.
“What are you doing back here in Iraq? Did you know you’d both be here?” She looked between them with a smile that faltered as neither of them spoke.
David stepped toward her. “Not until I got the wire asking me to meet him at the
“Ah. There are politics everywhere.”
“So what are you really here for, Boomer?” David asked abruptly. “I heard rumors that you’d given up combat. But instead of going to a civilian bomb squad you went… to find dead people?” He sounded skeptical, and when he put it baldly like that, he could see what he meant.
“Yeah.” He couldn’t count the ways in which he didn’t want to talk about this, especially not to Nitro. Especially not sober. “Hey, maybe we’ll save the soul-searching until we’re better lubricated?”
“Deal. Tonight? Your hotel has about the only bar in a fifty-mile radius, apart from my hotel. And I’m sick of that bar. Say, eight? We have a good few years to catch up on.”
“Yes, we do.” Matt agreed.
“Here we are,” David said as they skidded to a halt on a sandy path. “I’m not going further; this has a ton of bulletproof shit on it—if it gets caught in the sand, we are never getting it out. And I’m not having it taken out of my paycheck. You can walk the rest.”
“Really?” he said, undoing his seatbelt. “Well if I get shot walking from here to there”—he pointed at Harry’s ops center trailer—“you better not get a fucking bonus this year.”
David’s constant smile faded as he took off his shades.
“I’m kidding, bud,” Matt said.
“No. Look. That’s… no, that’s not… it can’t be, right?” His voice started to get high-pitched and wobbly. “It’s just the desert, right? A mirage? The country’s fucking with us right?” He looked at Matt. “You don’t see her, right?”
Matt’s heart sank as he realized that Nitro had just seen Harry walking toward them. “We’re not in a
Tom and Jerry
cartoon, dude. No chick is going to arrive in a grass skirt with a cocktail in a pineapple skin.”
For the first time ever, Nitro looked terrified, white and sweating, like he really had seen a ghost.
“It’s me, right? This is my punishment?”
“Punishment for what? Pull yourself together, man. That’s Harry, Danny’s wife. She’s an archaeologist. She’s really here. Come on. Get ahold of yourself. You don’t want her to see you having a fit of the vapors, do you?”
Matt watched as David slowly pulled himself together. Matt obviously wasn’t the only fucked-up member of the team, then. For a second he wondered about the other four guys who usually deployed in their rotation. Justin, Liam, Bill, and Mark. Maybe there wasn’t anything unusual about his own flashbacks after all. Maybe they were all messed up.
Harry stood in front of the truck waiting for him to get out. He stole a look at David. How well did he know her? Or had he met her before Danny died? David reached for the interior door handle and opened the door. Matt got out, too.
“Harry, this is David Church. He was…” Matt began.
“Yes, I know. David? I know you were kind enough to come to the house after Danny died; I recognize your face, but not your name. It was all a bit of a blur. You played ball with Danny’s little sister when you visited. Thank you for that. Thank you for visiting. And it’s nice to meet you again.”
He watched them shake hands, smiling, but his brain was whirring in a bad direction. He hadn’t thought to visit Harry. Okay, that was a lie. He had thought about going around to pay his respects to Danny’s family, but he hadn’t. He’d worried that some big guy coming around and breaking down in front of them wouldn’t do them any favors. And by the time Danny’s death became “normal” inside his head, it was really too late to make a courtesy call.
“What are you doing back here in Iraq? Did you know you’d both be here?” She looked between them with a smile that faltered as neither of them spoke.
David stepped toward her. “Not until I got the wire asking me to meet him at the
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