Nick got in the car and started the engine. He drove a gray Ford sedan with soot clinging so masterfully to its exterior it appeared to create a designer pattern. This was not born out of neglect as much as an attempt to blend in.
He drove west on Pennsylvania Avenue toward the Baltimore field office. Matt sat in the passenger seat with an open lunch box on his lap. He held up an apple and inspected it like he was about to dust it for prints.
“What kind of apple is this?” Matt asked.
“How am I supposed to know?” Nick said.
“You do talk to your wife at night don’t you?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, don’t you tell her what I like and don’t like?”
“Listen, do you know why she makes you lunch whenever I have any kind of doctors appointment?”
“Why?”
“Because, she thinks you’ll sit in that waiting area eating lunch, while I’m getting my teeth cleaned and you’ll protect me from terrorists that might barge in and try to kill me.”
“Are you serious?” Matt chuckled.
Nick nodded. “However, what she doesn’t know is that you sit in the car and read Playboy, so if a terrorist ever did come in you’d have a hard-on so big you’d probably sit there with a smirk on your face and point directly to the office I was in.”
Matt took a bite from the apple and chewed slowly. “Playboy has excellent interviews.”
Nick rolled his eyes. He stopped the car at a light and hung his elbow out the window.
“What’s this meeting about?” Nick asked.
“All I know is, it’s a Red Ball special, and nothing good ever comes out of a Red Ball.”
A young black kid wearing a Baltimore Orioles baseball cap approached the car holding a stack of newspapers. “Wanna paper, Mister?”
Nick reached for his wallet, pulled out a five-dollar bill and handed it to the kid. “Are you an Orioles fan?”
The kid handed him a copy of the Baltimore Sun, “You bet.” He dug his hands into his pocket for change.
“That’s okay, keep it,” Nick said.
“Thanks, Officer,” the kid smiled, then wandered toward the next car in line.
Matt laughed. “We may as well have a siren on the roof.”
Nick glanced at the front page. A soldier poked his head out from a U.S. tank surrounded by a mob of angry Turkish civilians. Their faces were twisted into sinister shapes. Their mouths open, assaulting the soldier with venomous emissions, while a U.S. flag burned in the background. Nick dropped the newspaper onto Matt’s lap and accelerated through the intersection. “Looks like the boys are getting a warm welcome in Turkey.”
Matt gripped the paper and shook his head. “They don’t belong there in the first place.”
“You know that and I know that, but try telling that to the President’s pollsters.”
“The Kurds have every right to fight back. Just because Turkey is part of NATO, doesn’t mean we should always side with them.”
“It’s all politics,” Nick said. “The Turks slaughter thousands of innocent Kurds and when the Kurds retaliate, we show up and claim that innocent Turks are being killed. Shit, everyone’s innocent.” He turned to Matt, “Except you.”
Matt gave him an aw-shucks grin. It reminded Nick of the night they’d met nine years earlier when Matt was still a sharpshooter with the FBI’s SWAT team. Matt chose to purchase a 10-millimeter semiautomatic pistol with his own funds and had an opportunity to use it that night while leaving a bar in West Baltimore. He saw a man in a blue FBI windbreaker crouched behind a Volkswagen dodging shots from another man crouched three cars ahead of him. The man in the FBI windbreaker was Nick. It was his first year with the Bureau and he found himself chasing down a wily gun smuggler by himself.
Across the street Matt had acquired a perfect angle. From thirty yards away he blew out the right kneecap of the assailant, sending him to the ground immobile and wailing with pain. Nick swiftly took advantage of his good fortune and cuffed his prisoner. When Matt approached, Nick asked him for identification. “They never asked Superman for any ID when he saved the day,” Matt quipped, holding up his credentials. It was Nick’s introduction to the aw-shucks grin.
A few months later Nick’s partner retired and he needed a replacement. Matt was the first phone call he made.
Now, Nick glanced over at Matt who was slowly working his way through the newspaper. “Anything about Rashid, yet?”
“That’s what I’m looking for.”
“If it was there it would be on the front page.”
“You would think,” Matt said. He folded the paper and reached back to drop it on the back seat. “How does Walt keep that stuff locked up so well?”
“He’s the best I’ve ever seen at controlling the flow of information.”
Matt pulled a baggie of assorted cheese cubes from the lunch pail and held up a cube to Nick.
“No. Thanks.”
Matt popped a cube in his mouth and began a slow chew. “So, what did Dr. Morgan have to say?”
“He said I don’t see the birds and the trees.”
“What?”
“He says I don’t spend enough time noticing the world of nature around me.” Nick shrugged. “Go figure.”
“Did you tell him that staring at sparrows while doing our line of work could get you killed?”
“He wouldn’t understand.”
Matt ate another cheese cube. “Did you go into your dysfunctional family?”
Nick glanced at his partner. “What dysfunctional family?”
“Oh, come on. Your cousin is connected to the Capelli’s and your brother is a compulsive gambler out in Vegas.”
Nick frowned. “Phil’s not a compulsive gambler. He’s just on a prolonged losing streak.”
“Yeah, a twelve year losing streak.”
Nick smiled. “That’s about right. He’ll spin out of it eventually.”
Matt examined the contents of a power bar he took from the lunch box. He appeared dissatisfied and returned it to the box. “Too many carbs,” he said.
“I’ll mention it to Julie.”
“So if you didn’t talk about your family, what else did you discuss?”
“Well, he says I should avoid stress.”
“Uh, huh. Did he tell you anything of practical value?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes even common sense needs to come from a different voice before you recognize it. Besides, I was thinking about taking some time off anyway. Julie deserves a vacation. We haven’t been anywhere that wasn’t job related in. . shit, probably five years.”
“How long have I been telling you the same thing? You’re burning out. Take some time and recharge your batteries. What else did the good doctor have to say? Maybe I can offer some insight.”
Nick sighed. “I’m going to get advice from you?”
“Hey, we’re coming up on our ten year anniversary together. Why wouldn’t you listen to me?”
“Pardon me, sir, aren’t you the guy who parked his car in the fast lane of the interstate at three in the morning to have sex with a stripper?"
“Yeah, so?”
“A stripper you’d met that night at a bachelor party?”
“Okay, so I’m a little impulsive. That doesn’t mean I’m not trustworthy.”
“It was your bachelor party.”
“All right, so I realized I was too young to be married and I subconsciously sabotaged my engagement. I was just a kid. That was before I even met you. Besides, I only told you that story so you could see how far I’ve come.”
Nick laughed. But when he looked back at Matt he knew he’d exposed an old wound. Matt’s fiancee was a fellow FBI agent he’d met at Quantico. They were both young, but beneath the smug veneer, Matt always lamented the loss of Jennifer Steele.
“How long did you guys date?”