Adler looked down as he walked to the chair, but he didn’t sit. He described to Grant how Mullins died, what he was trying to do, and finally he said, “They sent his body back to D.C. the other day.”
“Goddamn it, Joe! Goddamn it! If I hadn’t asked him to… ”
“Hold it!” Adler said loudly, slapping his hand on the bed rail. This was another one of their moments, when military protocol was about to be thrown out the window, when a brotherly friendship would take over.
A nurse tending a patient on the opposite side of the room walked quickly toward Adler. “Shhh! Please! Keep your voices down!” She drew the curtain around the bed and left.
“Yeah. Yeah,” Adler commented, waving her off. He turned back to Grant, leaning over the rails, trying to keep his voice down to a loud whisper. “Look, you just wait a freakin’ minute! You just remembered that you asked him if he could help us while we were in Moscow, right?”
“Yeah, so?” Grant asked, still angry at himself.
“Well, do you remember that he took it on himself to show up at the safe house? In fact, you tried to talk him out of it when we were in Washington, the night at the memorial. Remember?” Grant gave an almost imperceptible nod. “He put his ass out there. Shit! He wanted to put his ass out there! Nothing you said changed his mind. So don’t you go busting your ass and take any blame. Hear me?” Grant remained motionless, taking in Adler’s words, but unable to believe the fact, unable to shake the guilt.
Adler put his arms on the bed rail, then rested his chin on his fists. “Look, skipper. You’ve been through shit these past few days. You haven’t been able to think straight, and I know you’ve still got questions and probably blank pages in that brain of yours. It’ll all come back.”
“I know, but it’s just so damn frustrating. Listen, Joe, can you give me a few minutes?”
Adler nodded, “Sure. Sure I will. I’ll go get us a couple of Cokes. You want a Snickers?” Grant didn’t answer. Adler understood.
Grant needed some private time, to think about Mullins, think about everything he’d ever asked of him. Joe said he was aboard the rescue chopper, picking up the POWs. It was something Tony wanted to do, for his cousin. How ironic if one of those men was his cousin, but it wasn’t likely.
Thinking of the arguments they had, and the firefight aboard the Bronson,and that scraggly ass hair and beard, Grant managed a brief smile. “Damn, Tony,” he said under his breath.
He was trying to adjust to a more comfortable position in bed, when Adler walked in, seeing him shifting his body. “I think doc said they’d try to get you up this afternoon.”
“That’s what I hear,” Grant answered. “You know it’s driving me nuts being in this place.”
“Yeah, I know.” He handed Grant a Coke. “I got you a Snickers just in case.” He put it on the side table, then asked, “Hey, are you okay, I mean, about Tony?”
“Yeah. You’re right. No matter how much I chewed his ass out, he’d made up his mind. Guess we all can be hardheaded at one time or other, but he died because of it.”
“Do you think the CIA will try to tarnish his record?”
“Christ, Joe! I hope not. When I get back, maybe the two of us can stand up for him. See what you can find out, since you’ll be home before me.” Adler gave a quick nod. “Okay, time to change the subject. Did Grigori and Alexandra fly back with the admiral?”
“Yeah. On the same plane he flew in on, courtesy of the President.”
Grant just shook his head slowly. “Can’t believe it actually happened, Joe. I mean, Grigori ‘coming over.’ Guess he’ll be going through some tough G2 sessions. Jesus! I wish I could be there for him.”
“I got word I’m supposed to be ‘interviewed’ when I get back. Think they’ll send somebody here to talk with you?”
“I hope so. I’ll be waiting.”
“Oh, one other thing,” Adler said, clearing his throat. “Lieutenant Palmer was here briefly the day you were brought in.”
“Terri? She was here?” Grant questioned, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, but you were still in recovery. She drove down from Rhein-Main but said she couldn’t stay.”
“How’d she know I was here?”
Adler shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know. Maybe she saw a message come into Communications at Rhein-Main.”
“Is she coming back?”
Adler shook his head. “She got new orders to Pearl. She was flying to D.C. that night.”
Grant tried to sit up straighter, as he answered, “Pearl, huh? Well, it’s best.”
“Thought you ended that.”
“Yeah. I did. It just wouldn’t be fair, you know? I mean, look at the shit that happened to me. Couldn’t ask anybody else to make a decision to live this kind of life.”
Grant remembers the day, as if it were yesterday, when a Navy vehicle pulled up in front of his house. The day he and his mom learned his dad had been killed. Seeing his mom suffering, the look in her eyes, and the anguish on her face affected him deeply. There were days when he thought she wanted to die. And that frightened him almost as much as the day his dad left for Korea.
“Yeah. Look at me,” Adler said, frowning. “Divorced twice. It doesn’t always work, skipper, but… sometimes that one special person comes along.” He hesitated briefly before saying, “It worked for you and Jenny, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, it did,” Grant nodded, thinking about his wife. During one of his trips to Nam, she contracted a viral infection and died before he could get home.
Enough had been said. Adler picked up his cap from the side table. “Do you remember this is my last day here?”
“I know,” Grant replied. “Won’t have anybody to play with anymore.”
“Well, you just be nice to all the nurses, and I bet you won’t even miss me.” He glanced at his watch. “Guess I’d better get going. My flight’s at 1430. Oh, by the way. I picked up your dress blues and rucksack that we left at Tempelhof. There’re lockers downstairs. The lock key’s in the drawer here.” He walked around to the other side of the bed, reaching for Grant’s left hand, being mindful of the wires and IV. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
“That’s affirmative! Hey! You still got an extra set of keys for my apartment and the Vette, right?”
“Yeah, back in my apartment.”
“Well, start up the Vette a few times, okay?”
“My pleasure,”Adler said, with a quick, two finger salute.
As he started walking past the bed, Grant said, “Thanks, Joe.”
“For what?”
“Just… thanks.”
Chapter 14
Grant slid the food tray along the metal rack of the serving line, paid the bill then glanced around the room, looking for an empty table. He picked one out, farthest away from the serving line, noise, and closest to a wall. He chastised himself. Get over that damn back to the wall paranoia thing, Stevens.
Placing his tray on one of the small round cafe tables, he pulled out a red plastic chair, sat down, then put his cap upside down on an extra chair.
As he opened the first carton of milk, he glanced around the room, seeing a man and a boy sitting a few tables away.
The boy, who appeared to be about fifteen, was watching him. Grant smiled and gave a quick nod. The boy turned away.
After taking a healthy swig of cold milk from the carton, Grant picked up the cheeseburger with everything on it, relieved his appetite finally returned and his taste buds were back to normal.
For almost five weeks he’d been a “resident” in the convalescent ward. Classified as TAD (temporary additional duty), he went through therapy for his shoulder, and waited for the ribs and liver to heal. Today was the day he was finally going home.