I tell them with a calm, cool voice, “That was a security update. Currently, it’s not important enough to alarm you. If that changes, I will say more. All security protocols stay as they are.”
Everyone but Vickie relaxes.
I sigh, but Jose spoke for me, “Bill probably has a thousand things in his head right now. He is an expert on prioritizing things. Too much information can overwhelm people; he keeps it simple for us. When danger is imminent, he will tell us. It’s what he does well, let it go, or you will fall to pieces in nerves. If he isn’t worried enough to tell us, there is nothing to worry about. When he does tell us, that’s when you get nervous and steel yourself to act.”
I add some fun, “Ok smart guy since you know what I was going to say, what’s for dessert?”
Jose smiles, “Scones.”
How the hell did he know?
He’s giggling, “I was in the kitchen getting a soda, and your chef asked me what we want for dessert. I remember those scones we had in the south of France, those were epic, and I asked for that. For the last ten minutes, I have been smelling them, and the anticipation is killing me.”
They were every bit as good as we had in France.
That night the sleeping order is the same. The only difference is that Vickie is no longer shaking when we climb in bed. I guess that’s progress.
+++++
10:00 am the following day, several black vehicles pull up in front of the house along with an ambulance. I think mommy just arrived. Vickie is never far from me.
I look at her, “Let’s go answer the door. I think a guest has arrived.”
Vickie looks nervous and hopeful. Both her hands are grabbing mine. The poor girl is shaking like a leaf.
The gurney is wheeled out of the ambulance in a few seconds, and four people almost run with it into the house.
I use my commanding voice, “Upstairs, turn left twice.”
Next is a procession of agents carrying various medical equipment and supplies. Two nurses show up with suitcases. I set them each up in a guest room. They’re both young and look me up and down for a long time. I think, good luck.
I check up on Sophia.
The nurse objects with me, mom, Jane, and Vickie in the room, “All of you out. She is tender and needs rest. She has been an excellent patient and is healing well. The best thing for her is to rest. Now go.”
Vickie states flatly to the nurse, “Over my dead body. I’m staying.”
The nurse asks, “Vickie?”
She nods her head yes and holds her mother’s hand. We all leave them alone. It’s noon, we go into the kitchen for lunch. The nurse is instructing our chef on Sophia’s diet and the size of her meals. She better not put me on that diet.
A cable installer set off our alarm, Juan sprinted to investigate. He’s my most aggressive attack dog. He is perfect for this. I don’t even ask if he has a weapon. The guy will be clean; he was paid to test us. That tells me they know that at least Vickie is here and with all the vehicles, Sophia as well. They will look up Juan and see that he was in the military, and that’s it.
Most people, they wouldn’t think anything of that. The people after Sophia, it will be a big red flag. Because we are classified, that tells them all they need to know. That means they will be much more careful, and they’ll bring many more people. They will hit us at night in two days. If there isn’t money involved, then they might be smart and wait a month for us to let down our defenses.
With the quick probing of our defenses, this feels like they will come quickly. I walk inside the house. Besides Juan, my friends are sitting in the living room with my family, telling the funny stories of dumb shit we have done.
I look serious and worried; all talk stops.
Using my calm voice of reason, “Juan just ran out for a cable repair truck that set off an alarm. They’re testing our defenses; they know at least Vickie and probably Sophia are here. Mom, Jane, you are not targets. I want you to pack a bag for a few days and go see Libby (her sister), one of Jane’s friends, or I know Sandy will take you in. Anywhere but here.” They don’t move. My anger builds. “NOW! This isn’t a game. I can’t have you getting killed!”
They don’t move.
Before I can yell again, Jane explains it to me, “You, dear brother, have a habit of getting shot. Your friends just explained all the glorious times they carried your body back to base. That’s not easy with your huge body.”
I defend myself, “Woah, hold on there, buckaroo. Most of the time, I limped out or was assisted. Don’t believe all the shit they’re shoveling around here.”
She continues, “I have seen your body and the patchwork they did. You’re a BIG target; you get shot. If you get shot again, I want to be there. I love you, Bill.” Tears are streaming down her face.
Mom has a stern look on her face, “I’m not running away. If you and these men are here, this is where I will be, and I dare you to try to force me to leave.”
Why won’t anyone listen to reason? There is NO need for them to be here. I’m frustrated.
Jose explains to me, “This is just like our last mission. We had terrible intel, and we were dropped into a hornet’s nest. None of us should have walked out of there. I know they blamed you, but they were wrong. Without you, none of us are here today. All of us can see the love they have for you. We all know how women can’t say no to you.”
Now they tell all the stories about me and the times I am caught … out of uniform. I did have my fair share and then some. In my job, I didn’t want a wife. The odds were not in my favor of coming back. It only takes one bad thing to happen, and it all goes sideways. Other guys had families; I just couldn’t do it.
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