Torrinson nodded, watching his two favorite operators leave the office. He knew they weren’t going just for the coffee. He walked over to the window then waited.
A few minutes later there was knock at the door, and Torrinson said, “Come.”
Grant and Adler entered and stood at parade rest. Torrinson kept his back to them. Grant spoke. “Sir, since you won’t be leaving NIS for at least another couple of weeks, Joe and I would like to take some leave, just for a few days.”
Torrinson walked near his two men, standing in front of them, looking into their eyes. “The Navy wouldn’t know what to do without you two.”
“Sir, after Germany, you know I almost had to ‘hang it up,’” Grant said.
Torrinson’s eyes narrowed. “Grant, are you still having physical issues?”
“Every now and then, sir, but guess I might have overdone it during this last op. I’m planning on getting checked out at Bethesda, sir.”
“Good. Good.” Then Torrinson turned to Adler. “And you, Joe… you thinking the same?”
“I don’t know, sir. The Navy’s been my life since I was sixteen. But I think once in awhile, especially at this time in life, it’s good to step back and reexamine things. Hope you understand, sir.”
“Of course, I do, Joe.” He thought briefly, and wondered if it would make any difference, whether it would help them make a decision if he added further comments. “I probably don’t have to remind either of you that you’re both due for promotions.
“Joe, making lieutenant commander would be a wonderful achievement for a ‘Mustang.’” A ‘Mustang’ refers to an enlisted person who came up through the ranks.
“And Grant, I can see ‘rear admiral’ in your future, and probably sooner than you’d think.”
Grant let out a slow breath through tight lips, uncertain how to reply. “Hope you don’t take this the wrong way, sir, and no disrespect, but I don’t know if that’s what I’m cut out for, sir.”
As it turned out, Torrinson wasn’t surprised in the least to hear Grant’s response. Grant Stevens was a covert operator, a man who belonged in the field, whether or not it was with the U.S. Navy.
“I guess time will tell, Grant.” He decided he’d said enough. “Look, have Zach prepare your leave papers. Go do your thinking, and I’ll see you back here next week.”
Grant and Adler came to attention. “Thank you, sir.”
“All right, gentlemen. Dismissed.”
After turning in the AARs, the two friends walked out of NIS. Putting on their caps, they stood outside the building, remaining quiet.
Adler finally asked, “You want some company when you go to Bethesda?”
“Thanks, Joe, but I’ll be okay.”
“You gonna hang around D.C. when you’re through at the hospital?”
Grant lifted his aviator sunglasses from his pocket, enjoying the feel of warm sunshine on his face. “Think I’ll drive up to the Blue Ridge. There’s a campground that rents small cabins. Might be a good place to take in some quiet time. You going to see your dad?”
“Yeah. I haven’t seen him in awhile. Hey! Why don’t you come with me? I know he’d really like to see you. Come on, skipper! The fishing’s great this time of year!”
Grant put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Appreciate it, Joe, but we’ve got decisions to make.
“Well, if you change your mind, you’ve got his number, right?”
“Tucked in my wallet.”
“What now?”
It was time to modify their thought process, if only briefly. Grant started walking to the Vette, digging his keys out of his pocket. “Now, Joe? How about we pick up some flowers, then go pay Grigori and Alexandra an overdue visit?”
“Who’s that? Oh, you mean Uri and Natasha!”
Just then, they heard the door to NIS open. They swung around. Zach held the door, as he called, “Captain Stevens! Lieutenant Adler! You’ve gotta come back to the office, sirs!” Without saying another word, he turned and ran to the elevator.
Grant and Adler immediately broke into a run. “What?! What the hell is it, Zach?!” Grant shouted.
The petty officer was already standing at the elevator, punching a button, when Grant anxiously said, “Zach! Tell us!”
“It’s a call from St. Mawgan, sir. A Chief Becker’s on the line!”
Torrinson’s office was as quiet as a tomb. The three officers were at a loss for words. Torrinson leaned against his desk, with his arms folded tightly across his chest. He realized this was one of those times he had to give his two men a chance to let their emotions play out. As he walked toward his office door, he finally broke the silence. “Gentlemen, I want you to use this room as if it were yours. Speak your minds. Talk it out. I’ll be in the outer office.” He left.
Adler paced back and forth, keeping his head down, occasionally wiping his eyes. Grant sat on the edge of the couch, shaking his head as he stared at nothing. Leaning forward, he rubbed his hands briskly together, part in anger, part in frustration. But he mostly questioned why?
Why couldn’t they have rescued the Henleys sooner? If they had, maybe Victoria would still be alive.
He abruptly got off the couch, ready to toss something against a wall, saying under his breath, “Goddammit!” He pounded his fist against his forehead, until Adler grabbed his hand.
“Skipper! Look at me!”
Grant stared into the familiar blue eyes, as he pulled his hand away. “What, Joe? You gonna tell me it’s all part of the job? That I should be used to this ‘game’ we play? Well, I’m not used to it! Maybe I don’t give a damn about my job anymore!” Before Adler could respond, Grant asked, “What about you? Don’t give me any bullshit and tell me you’re not tired of it.”
Adler knew the anger wasn’t directed at him, but it wasn’t like Grant to talk this way, especially to him. “No bullshit, skipper. And, yeah, I’m tired of it. But it doesn’t always turn out like this, does it? You’ve gotta remember the POWs. We got them home last op, didn’t we?”
For a brief moment Grant backed away, as his anger subsided. He pictured the five men and their expressions when they learned they were finally going home.
But then he leaned toward Adler again, saying with his voice low and eyes narrowed, “And what about Tony? You remember him. He died trying to save my ass, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, he did. But don’t bullshit me and say you wouldn’t have done the same for him! Hell! Look what you did to save all of us! We were able to get our asses outta East Germany because of you!”
Grant’s shoulders went slack. His voice became calm. But still, he questioned. “Jesus Christ, Joe. Just tell me why the hell we do this?”
“Why, skipper? It’s in our DNA.”
Jamming his hands into his back pockets, Grant turned away from his friend, saying softly, “Yeah, well, maybe it’s time to alter my DNA.”
Torrinson stood by the counter near Zach’s desk, ignoring the aroma of coffee. Neither he nor his yeoman spoke, but occasionally looked toward the office door. Torrinson’s concern was that both his men were about to make a critical, life-changing decision. The outcome of this last op could be all that was needed to push one or both of them out of the Navy.
Voices coming from behind the door suddenly went silent. He walked into his office and closed the door. “Grant. Joe.”
Grant had his head down, swiping fingers across his eyes. He and Adler braced at attention, both of them staring straight ahead.
With his fists clenched by his side, Grant cleared his throat before speaking. “Sir, I apologize. I wasway out of line. I regret letting it happen, sir.”
Adler spoke quietly. “Me, too, sir.”