Dixon, regaining his train of thought, continued, answering the question by referring to the map. For the moment he ignored Jan, intentionally averting his eyes from where she stood. Jan, however, could not take hers off him. As much as she had wanted to see him, to speak to him, since their night together, she was at a loss as to what she would say. Was she going to yell at him for leaving her without waking her and saying goodbye? Was she going to tell him that it had been great but he had a wife and family to go back to? Or was she going to tell him what she really felt, what she really wanted?
The briefing ended before she had resolved her dilemma. The officers stood up as a group and saluted the battalion commander. Some men grabbed their gear and filed out of the tent; others gathered around the map or broke into small two-and three-man groups to discuss some part of the plan. The battalion commander, a Lieutenant Colonel Tom Garrison, moved toward Jan. Immediately behind him was Scott. "Miss Fields, it's a pleasure to meet you again." When Dixon, his face set in an expressionless mask, moved up next to Garrison, the battalion commander held his hand up, pointing to Dixon. "Do you know Colonel Scott Dixon from Corps staff?"
A small smile flashed across Jan's face. "Yes, I've had the pleasure of the colonel's company."
Dixon's eyes widened for a second, and the tips of his ears became red. Clearing his throat, he asked if Garrison would mind if he had a word with Miss Fields. Garrison, still smiling, nodded his head. "Of course, take whatever time you need. The S-3 and I need to get a few things straight before the interview." Turning to Jan, he said, "Miss Fields, I'll be over there by the map, ready whenever you are."
Jan smiled and told him she wouldn't be a minute. As soon as he was gone, she turned to Scott. "Is there some place where we can talk?"
Dixon wrapped his hand around her upper arm and led her out of the tent. Once outside, he looked about, then took her between two trucks parked next to the tent.
They faced each other and simply looked at each other for a second. Both waited for the other to speak, neither knowing what to say. Finally Scott, looking down in hangdog fashion, began slowly. "Jan, I'm sorry for leaving you that night like I did. I was going to wake you but—"
Jan reached over with her right hand and placed the tips of her fingers under Scott's chin. Lifting his face toward hers, she smiled when their eyes met. "Scott, since that night I've often thought about what I was going to say to you when I finally caught up with you. Every conceivable thought and emotion came and went, from wanting to scratch your eyes out for leaving me like you did to…"
When she paused, Dixon reached up with both hands and clasped the hand she still had on his chin. "To what, Jan? Running up and grabbing me like the long-lost lover coming home?" He paused for a moment, looking up at the sky as he thought. He caught his breath and swallowed hard, as if the next sentence were lodged in his throat, all the while holding her hand. Ready, he lowered his head. "This is wrong. I know it's wrong. Everything about this is wrong." He paused, then chuckled. "You know, this whole affair wouldn't even make a decent class-B movie."
Jan withdrew her hand, stepped back, folded her arms across her chest, and turned away from Dixon. "There are a lot of people who would love seeing me go around like a moonstruck puppy." Looking over her shoulder, she added, "One of them being your wife. Of course, I doubt if she would find any humor if she knew that you were the man I was pining over."
Dixon walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She wanted to pull away again but didn't. "Jan, this is neither the time nor the place. Perhaps all we had was one good night. I hope that's not the case. But the last thing I'm going to do is screw up another person's life. I've already done quite a wonderful job with Fay's and mine."
Jan turned. "Well, Scotty boy, it's too late to spare me. Whether you want it or not, I think I'm in love with you."
"Like I said, I'm not doing anything until this small-scale disaster is over and Fay and I have a chance to square up."
Up to this point Jan had hesitated to mention Fay's name, reluctant to discuss her best friend with the woman's husband. Since Scott had opened the subject, however, she went ahead. "Scott, do you still love Fay?"
Dixon thought for a moment before answering. "Like I said, there's a lot that I need to get straight before I commit myself to anything. Right now, love, you're looking at a guy Sigmund Freud could write volumes on."
Scott's reference to her as "love" caused her heart to skip another beat. Whether he had meant it or it was just a handy term, Jan hung on it. She missed the next sentence or two, tuning back into Scott only when he mentioned Fay again.
"Perhaps I do love Fay. But the mere fact that I have to ask that question, along with the fact that I have no regrets about having slept with you, makes me wonder."
For a minute, maybe two, neither of them said anything. Neither wanted to leave the issue hanging. Dixon, however, knew that hang it would. Looking at his watch, then at Jan, he simply said it was time to leave, that he had another unit briefing to attend. Jan said nothing. Instead, she put her hands on his cheeks, leaned forward, and kissed him. It was a light kiss on the mouth which Scott didn't respond to. Nor did he resist.
Stepping back, she looked at him again. "Scott, take care." With that she turned and walked away.
As Johnny watched Jan walk around the front of the truck and into the tent, he wondered what he should do. He liked Ms. Fields a great deal. She had been a good boss and a great teacher. But he liked Mrs. Dixon too, probably more. She treated him with kindness and, almost more important, with respect. She was so much like his mom. And so beautiful. The last thing he wanted to see was Mrs. Dixon hurt, by anyone. The conversation he had overheard between Ms. Fields and Colonel Dixon bothered him. How could anyone do that, he thought, to a woman as beautiful and as kind as Mrs. Dixon? She was too nice.
Spitting out a few drops of vomit, he wiped his mouth with his handkerchief, waited a few more seconds, then went into the tent. Perhaps, he thought, he could ask one of the girls at the office what to do. They were always talking about such things and might have some good advice.
From across the room Neboatov watched the general sitting on his stool in the middle of the operations center. As he did so, he wondered if the general always reacted so violently when he received an order from STAVKA. Perhaps, he thought, there was something about this order that he didn't understand. Maybe the general was just upset over this order in particular. That would also explain why everyone on the staff, who had been friendly and professional the night before, had turned inhospitable and rude that morning.
Standing up, Neboatov walked over to where the operations officer, the intelligence officer, and the chief of artillery were working with a group of officers. They paid him no attention as he reached over and picked up the folder containing a copy of the message that had everyone in the headquarters scrambling. Stepping over near the map-board, Neboatov opened the folder and read the message for the first time. The first paragraph explained that a personal appeal from the Libyan leader to the Soviet premier for assistance, coupled with the imminent removal of U.S. forces from the theater of operation, had made the use of Soviet forces possible. The rest of the message directed the commander of the North African Front to commence offensive operations, in cooperation with Libyan forces, against the exposed flank of Egyptian units in the vicinity of Al Adam. The attack was to be conducted as soon as possible in order to prevent the fall of Tobruk. A follow-on mission for the Front, the restoration of the original Libyan-Egyptian border, would be initiated on order by STAVKA once the danger to Tobruk was removed.