After an uncomfortable silence, he let his breath out in a huff. “At ease.”
Dane tried to relax his posture, but found himself too tense to do anything but stare straight ahead. Bonebrake didn’t seem to have that problem. He sidled over to Maxie’s desk, picked up the photo, and whistled.
“Is this your daughter? Man, she is going to be a beauty. She must get her looks from your wife’s side of the family, huh?”
Maxie sat up, relieved Bones of the photo, and replaced it on his desk. “That’s my daughter Kaylin and, yes, she does take after her mother. A fate that hopefully awaits any children you might have.” He laced his fingers together, rested them on the desk, and gave them another silent stare.
“I’m sorry…” Dane began.
“I don’t want your apologies, Maddock. I want the two of you to change your behavior. You’re two of the finest I’ve ever trained, and I don’t want to lose either of you, but you pull a stunt like this again, I’ll come down on you like Ric Flair. You get my meaning?”
“Yes, sir!” Bonebrake said. “My grandfather loved Flair.”
Dane had no idea who Ric Flair was, but he got the gist. “Yes, sir.”
“All right, Bonebrake. Tell me what you know about Maddock.”
“What do you mean?” Bonebrake cocked his head like a confused puppy.
“I’m sorry. Was that question too difficult for you? Tell me about Maddock. And I don’t mean what he looks like or what he eats for breakfast. What do you know about him as a man?”
“Not much. I just know he thinks he’s better than everyone else. He doesn’t respect or appreciate the rest of us.”
Dane wanted to object, but held his tongue
Maxie turned to Dane. “Your turn. Tell me about Bonebrake.”
“He doesn’t take anything seriously. He wants respect, but he has no respect for anyone or anything.”
Maxie sighed. “You morons do realize I could make your lives miserable if I wanted to?”
Dane and Bonebrake nodded.
“If you don’t want that to happen, you’re going to do something for me. Blow this chance, and the next time you step out of line your dreams of becoming a SEAL are over.”
This time, their nods were reluctant.
“My family and I were supposed to take a little trip to Boston during leave time,” Maxie continued, “but now her mother has decided to come for a visit.” He rolled his eyes. “The tickets are non-refundable, so I’ve had two of them transferred into your names.” Maxie tore the top sheet off his note pad and slid it across the desk. On it was an airline name, and dates and departure times for the outbound and return flights.
Dane’s mouth went dry. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“You two are going to take a trip to Boston. I happen to know that you like Colonial history and Bonebrake likes bars. You’ll find plenty of both there. You’ll be in the birthplace of the American Revolution on the Fourth of July. Maybe that will remind you two why you serve and who is and isn’t your enemy.”
“Maxie, you can’t…” Bonebrake stammered.
“Do you really want to finish that sentence?”
Apparently, Bonebrake did not, because he lapsed into sullen silence.
“I expect you two to spend your leave together. Every minute of it. I’m going to interrogate you when you get back. Don’t give me reason to believe you did anything other than spending time getting to know and respect one another. You leave tonight, so you’d better get packed. Now get out of my sight.”
A million thoughts raced through Dane’s head, but he voiced none of them. What would be the point? Leave time at close quarters with Bonebrake. He had to hand it to Maxie. The man knew how to dole out punishment.
CHAPTER 2
Even within the confines of the subway car, Dane covered his ears as the screech of steel wheels sent a shrieking tremor down his spine.
North Station, the screechy, tinny voice called out. Exit on the right, please. Thanks for riding the T.
The doors slid open. A wall of exhaust and thick, humid air hit him right in the face. Who would have thought Boston could make him miss the sweltering heat of South Florida?
“I really don’t get why we’re doing this.” Dane grimaced and surveyed the scene. “I was all ready for a nice evening of resting up from the flight and doing absolutely nothing. But no, Bonebrake, you had to drag me out here.”
“Relax, Maddock.” Bones gave Dane’s shoulder a friendly shake. “You’re wound up tighter than my grandmother’s girdle. Loosen up and get into the spirit of things. We’re on leave, dude. Guys like us, we’re supposed to have a few drinks, maybe get into a fight. You know, experience life.”
They turned right and headed down the stairs to the turnstiles. Another passageway skewed off to their left, across Causeway Street. Several people walked that way, some wearing replica Red Sox jerseys. “Cheer up. You’re going to get to study that Colonial History stuff that you like so much.”
“I was going to do that… after I slept,” Dane countered, “but somebody wouldn’t shut up until I agreed to go drinking with him.”
Bonebrake smirked as they passed through the turnstiles and headed down the long staircase and out to the street. Dane looked around and saw the filth that coated the once-green steel of the elevated subway station, as if exhaust fumes clung to the metal and constricted it, squeezing the life out of the neighborhood. They entered the converging shadows as they walked along the sidewalk adjacent to the decaying Boston Garden. Several of the street level store fronts were empty, the windows blackened. Dane wrinkled his nose at the acrid stench of stale urine.
“We’ve already learned one new thing about Boston.” Bonebrake fanned the air in front of his nose. “It’s apparently the world’s biggest urinal.”
Dane smirked. He refused to laugh at Bonebrake’s wisecracks. He still couldn’t believe Maxie had bullied them into this trip. Then again, Maxie was a good judge of character. If he saw something in Bonebrake, Dane knew he ought to give the guy a chance.
They walked a few more feet before Bonebrake guided him through an open door. “Now, this is my kind of place.”
Dane grimaced. It was exactly what he’d envisioned, perhaps “feared” would be a better word, when Bonebrake suggested they go out for a few beers. It wasn’t a high-class establishment where the wood had a high glossy shine on the bar, or well lit during the day to let potential customers know it was open to quench a hearty Bostonian thirst. Bonebrake had laid out their options for him: this place, or a bar in something called the Combat Zone. Dane had figured this to be the safer option. No telling what Bonebrake might get them into in a place with that name.
They sat down at the bar. Several televisions surrounded the perimeter, most tuned to pregame coverage of the Red Sox at Fenway Park. One had Keno playing, the timer ticking down to the next game. The place wasn’t nearly half-full. A few men played pool in the corner, the crack of the stick against the ball rising above the blended sounds of conversation, laughter, and baseball talk. Outside and above, the sounds of another subway train rolled through the station. A motorist honked their horn.