At 1136 hours PST Friday night, Crocker sat across from Cyndi watching her devour a grilled sirloin at Todd English’s Olives restaurant overlooking the Bellagio fountains.
Before he had met her at the O stage door, he’d received a call from Ukrainian Special Forces commander Colonel Marko Hubenko asking him for additional help. The Donetsk airport was under attack by Russian proxies and in danger of being overrun. Hubenko’s troops lacked operational expertise and leadership.
Crocker told Hubenko he would be happy to help but could only do so under orders from his CO, who he promised to call. This he did ASAP, relaying Hubenko’s request to Captain Sutter back at ST-6 HQ in Virginia Beach.
Sutter said in his western Kentucky accent, “More damn crises in the world than we have spec ops to handle ’em. Frankly I don’t know if Ukraine is a priority.”
He told Crocker he would pass Colonel Hubenko’s request up the chain of command, and that Crocker and Mancini should assist Ms. Blackwell over the weekend and report back to Nellis AFB at 0630 Monday morning.
“Yes, sir.”
Why training recruits how to survive in the desert was more important than defending Ukraine from Putin’s insurgents was something Crocker didn’t ask. DC politics and military policy and order of priorities weren’t in his purview or part of his skill set. Right now he was on his first date with a woman (besides his soon-to-be ex-wife) in over eight years, and he was enjoying it.
He and Cyndi had watched the fountain water dance and soar to Sinatra’s “Good Life” and shared a bottle of her favorite Chardonnay-Beckett’s Flat Five Stones. Now they were both feeling warm and mellow, aided by the romantic setting-subtle overhead lighting, the warm tones of the furniture, Mendelssohn’s sublime Violin Concerto in E minor, Opus 64, playing over the stereo.
The pretty woman across from him with the sparkling blue eyes started to tell him about her life. Her mother had become pregnant with her in high school. She barely knew her father, and had been raised primarily by her grandparents on her mother’s side. No bitterness, no blame, which he admired.
She had her first serious boyfriend at fifteen, and was following her mother’s trajectory when she was arrested at a party for selling ecstasy. She did community service and tried to turn her life around.
Sex and boys had always been an issue. She loved it and them, and they loved her back. After graduating from college she drifted from one relationship to another, then discovered ballet, modern dance, and gymnastics. They became her passion. For years she made a good living dancing in gentlemen’s clubs. After the birth of her daughter she took a hard look at herself in the mirror, asked herself what she really wanted to do with her life, and decided she wanted to be a legitimate dancer.
She worked hard, auditioned, and got parts dancing in the touring shows of several Broadway musicals, including revivals of Oklahoma! and Pippin. When she wasn’t touring, she performed with a local circus. During a Christmas Eve performance she was discovered by a scout from Cirque du Soleil and was invited to Montreal.
Crocker was fascinated, but as she talked about herself, he started to think about his own history and all the details he’d have to fill in and things she’d have to accept about him before they could really be comfortable with each other. It seemed like a lot.
If he thought his life was complicated, hers was a snarl of difficulties and attachments that included her ex-husband, who had been a drummer in a rock band before a serious accident destroyed his hand. Cyndi was now helping pay for his physical therapy. The daughter they had together had a rare blood disease called Diamond-Blackfan anemia that had to be treated with steroids and bimonthly blood transfusions. She had recently put her mother-who was still struggling with alcohol and drug abuse-back into rehab.
The fact that she remained so upbeat and energetic through all this difficulty inspired him. He told her that.
She responded by saying, “I’m boring you. I’m sorry. When I get excited, I can’t stop talking.”
“No, it’s interesting. Go ahead.”
He was already thinking about how their lives could fit together. It would be extremely challenging. She had her career; he had his. She lived in Las Vegas; his home was in Virginia. The only times they could meet were when he was on leave. He’d get to know her daughter. He’d done the same with Holly’s son.
Cyndi reached across the table and again placed her hand on his. “Tom?”
Warmth spread up his arm. “Yeah?”
“Is something wrong?”
“No. No, not at all.”
“Tell me about yourself.”
“I think you know the basics already. I’m a Navy SEAL. Have been for the last seventeen years.”
“I want to know about your life.”
He gave her a quick summary. His wild, gang-member teenage years; how he had been drifting into a life of crime before becoming interested in long-distance running and endurance racing. After dropping out of college, he joined the navy and passed BUD/S (Basic Underwater Demolition School). One of the proudest moments in his life was receiving the gold trident that made him a Navy SEAL. He talked about some of his deployments, injuries, the times he was captured by the enemy and escaped, his daughter and marriages.
He stopped there. Cyndi looked deep into his eyes asked, “Have you had to kill people?”
It was something he didn’t like to think about. “Yes, I have.”
“Was that hard?”
“Yes and no. You do it because you have to, but those things…linger.”
“I would think so. I’m sorry. You do what have to in defense of our country. You see and do things that most people can’t face.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Some of it leaves scars…on your soul.”
It was a big admission to someone he’d just met. He looked away, embarrassed, wondering where she was going with this.
Cyndi sighed. “I admire you, Tom. I do. And I want to get to know you better, even though I’m kind of scared.”
“Why?”
“Why?” she asked back. “Because you’re a serious dude. That’s both frightening and exciting.”
He reached across the table, took both of her hands, and looked into her eyes-warm and bright. They started to open something inside him. He wanted to go further, but he wasn’t sure he was ready.
He said, “I want to get to know you better, too. But let’s keep it simple…for now.”
She smiled and nodded. “Sure, Tom. I agree. Simple and straightforward is better.”
When he excused himself to go to the men’s room, he stopped to pull her close and kiss her on the lips. She felt delicate in his arms.
He was feeling light-headed from the sudden intimacy and was two-thirds of the way to the men’s room when the lights in the restaurant went out. A current of panic passed through the room. A waiter dropped a glass that shattered. The maître d’ hurried to the middle of the dining room and announced, “Sorry for the temporary inconvenience. Our waitstaff will provide candles. Until power is restored there will be a delay in the kitchen, but we have an unlimited supply of wine and dessert.”
Crocker was in the men’s room, using the light from his phone to find the toilet, when Jeri called.
“Crocker, you there?”
“Yeah, Jeri. What’s going on?”
“All the electrical power just went out throughout the city. My money says the guys upstairs will use this opportunity to bust out. Where are you?”
“Olives restaurant at the Bellagio, having dinner.”
“Oh…Hold on.” She came back thirty seconds later. “You think you can find your way back?”
“Now?”
“Yeah. Chop-chop. Meet me in the office.”
“See you in ten.”
Chapter Six
Everything is dangerous, my dear fellow. If it wasn’t so, life wouldn’t be worth living.