The Paths of Destiny
Corey

September 17, 2000:

I need to backtrack to an important event that happened while in Basic. At first I was hesitant to put it into words. I didn’t want to jinx it. However, Fate will do as she will and so I’ve decided I’ll risk it and relate this personal milestone.

For those of us who were ex-military, Basic was as stultifying and mind-numbing as ever.

However, on one of my weekend off-hours, I found myself rambling aimlessly to a different part of the base from the ones I had already covered.

I rounded a path through a copse and found myself at the edge of a really pretty meadow of wildflowers. The only thing marring the peaceful sight was what appeared to be a wrecked plane at the other end.

Quite unexpectedly, a very excited Jasmine appeared.

“Robert, you really need to check that out!”

“What’s got you so excited, Jasmine?”

Of course, the inner “Curious George” in me led me to the wrecked plane without waiting for an answer.

The plane wasn’t as bad off as it looked. In fact, it appeared as if someone had been working on it. Figuring I was alone I decided to prowl around, not bothering to conceal my presence, when I saw movement inside the plane.

Readying myself for anything, I called out.

“Hello? Is anyone here?”

I know, this may have been a stupid move on my part. However, for once, I was hoping it wouldn’t lead to something other than someone else exploring the plane.

A head appeared briefly in one window and then ducked down again. I managed to get an impression of short brown hair and dark eyes, not much more.

“Hey! Wait,” I yelled out. “Jasmine, was that a real person?”

I heard Jasmine giggling behind me for a reply. At the same time, I saw the window in front of me slide open.

And I was also looking down the barrel of an extremely large handgun!

Shooting a reproving glance at Jasmine, I raised my hands.

“Don’t shoot. I come in peace. I just came to look at this old plane. It looks like an old Lancaster. Uhh, take me to your leader or I can take you to mine?”

“Who are you,” demanded a soft but wary female voice in a distinctly clipped British voice. “What are you doing here?”

The handgun didn’t move, but the holder of the gun raised herself enough to look over it.

From what I could see, she had brown hair, military cut, short enough to fit under a helmet. She had dark brown eyes with a slightly nervous, worried look. Skin had a natural clear English skin tone with a warm tan overlay.

Age appeared to be probably a couple of years younger than mine.

“My name is Parker. Robert Parker. I’m in training here at Uxbridge and had some free time. So, I thought I’d go exploring, and I saw this plane out here all by its lonesome. I’ll even show you my ID.”

As I spoke, I slowly lowered my hands to the top of my head and interlaced the fingers. This way my arms wouldn’t suddenly drop from blood-loss in my veins. I didn’t need any sudden moves to make a nervous person twitch the wrong way and have them pull the trigger by reflex.

The weapon lowered slowly. She looked directly at me, then nodded.

“Like old planes? Come on in. I’ll show you around. American? Since when are we hiring Yanks?”

I sighed with relief and lowered my hands.

“There were three of us Yanks, as you call us,” I replied, climbing into the plane, “in my class alone when I first started back in June.”

“Now, if I remember my planes,” I said as I began looking around, “this little baby first flew operationally in March 1942 and was regarded as ‘a pilot’s airplane’, which inspired confidence. The Lanc had speed, ceiling, and lifting power that no other aircraft of the day could match. Weighing 36,900 pounds, empty, it was able to take off with an additional 33,100 pounds of fuel and bombs; in other words, it could almost carry its own weight again.”

I flicked a couple of switches to see if anything happened. Nothing.

“Lancasters were built to accomplish their specific purpose. Crew comfort and security was clearly a secondary consideration — it had virtually no defensive armor. The front, mid-upper, and rear gun turrets were hydraulically powered and carried a total of eight .303 caliber machine guns for defense against enemy aircraft.”

I motioned to one of the turrets as I approached it.

“The crew worked in cramped conditions, particularly the air gunners who remained at their posts for the entire flight. Some had to place their flight boots into the turrets before climbing in and then put their boots on. At night and at 20,000 feet the temperature in the turrets frequently fell to minus forty degrees and frostbite was not uncommon. Air gunners manned the rear and mid-upper gun turrets. A pilot, flight engineer, navigator, wireless operator, and bomb aimer/front gunner completed the crew of seven.”

I came to the bomb bay and gazed at it while I continued to tell the woman about the plane.

“The Lanc’s massive bomb bay stretched for 33 feet and, unlike other bombers, was one continuous uninterrupted space. Partly for this reason, the Lanc had the versatility to undertake raids with large, specialized weapons. However, this meant that the main wing spars became obstacles to movement within the aircraft, particularly for airmen wearing heavy clothing and flight boots.”

Having finished my tour of the plane, I found I was back where I entered. I turned back to the woman and concluded my spiel.

“The RAF used the aircraft in various roles including photographic and maritime duties until October 1956. The Royal Canadian Air Force, who flew back many of the surviving Mk. X’s back to Canada, continued to use the aircraft in photographic and maritime reconnaissance roles until the early 1960s. The last three RCAF Lancasters were retired at a ceremony on April 1, 1964.”

I sheepishly looked around and said, “Sorry, I tend to ramble at times.”

The idea was to get the woman to be at least a little at ease on something that she apparently had an interest in, thus my talk about the plane.

“Basically true,” the woman smiled, but the weapon remained in her hand, ready to be brought to bear at any moment. “Can I assume you studied up before coming over here? Why?”

“Actually, no,” I replied. “I didn’t.”

She just looked at me expectantly.

“I tend to have,” I said proudly, “an interest in planes. An ancestor of mine was an unsung pioneer of British flight.”

“Tell me more about the Yanks in your class,” she said.

I’m not sure, but I thought I heard her muttered something along the lines of “should’ve known.”

She appeared extremely suspicious, I noted to myself.

At her request, I told her about Drayton and Nighthawk. And about our rescue of Robyn Coyne. As I was talking, I continued looking around the plane.

“So, you’re UNO-SPJ. I heard you were training here as well,” she replied as she put the weapon away. “But is it wise to be so free with details about your training?”

She cocked her head to one side as if she were about to say something. Then she shook her head slightly, dismissing whatever it was she would’ve said.

She looked around proudly. “This old bus is mine. I bought it at auction, had it flown back, and now I’m trying to restore it. In my — copious spare time.”

A shadow crossed her face.

“Do you know anything about electrical work? I’m OK with a motorcycle, but some of the circuits here are beyond me, and the library doesn’t have an owner’s manual.”

“I can probably help you with the electrical,” I replied. “I used to work on the shipboard electrical systems when I was in the US Navy. She is a beauty by the way. Your plane, that is. Have you decided on a name for her for when she is fixed up? Hand me that meter, please — I need to check and see which wires still have current.”

While I was talking, I began inspecting the electrical system. It had been a long time since I’d done something like this. So, it felt good being able to do something with my hands again.

She picked up the meter and handed it to me.

“I’m Corey, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Corey,” I said, stopping what I was doing and offered my hand. “As for the details, how are you so sure I didn’t make up the entire thing?”

“I’m not,” she looked levelly at me. “But it’s plausible enough to be true and close enough to the truth to be accurate. Do you know how to use that thing or are you going to just stand there and look pretty?”

Since this was said without cracking a smile, I wasn’t quite sure how she meant it.

“I don’t believe I got your name?”

“Sorry, I should have realized you might not have caught my name out there,” I replied. “Robert Bixby Parker. My friends call me Spenser.”

After giving my name, I started back to work saying with a grin, “Besides, I thought I’d stand here and look pretty for a bit.”

As I was working, I was seriously hoping that Jasmine wouldn’t try any of her “tests” of distraction on me.

Quite the opposite. In fact, I could sense Jasmine leaning over my shoulder watching intently. From time to time she would point out a bad terminal or a lead that needed to be followed up on. Not distracting at all.

“So, Corey,” I said as I continued my work. “What was it about this plane that caught your fancy?”

She was smiling slowly, almost shyly when I turned to look at her.

“Not sure. The history — My Dad…,” she stopped and hesitated. “He — mentioned one, once.”

“I’m sorry,” I said pausing in my work. “I didn’t mean to bring up any sad memories.”

I thought there was more to her hesitation but chose the sympathetic route as the best way to proceed and left her an opening to continue.

She snorted, “Sad? Hardly. Let’s not — go there, OK? I’m — actually having a good time!”

Surprise in her voice.

“Let’s see how much work we can get done, shall we?”

With a nod, I went back to work and began explaining what I was doing with the electrical.

Time passed. Corey started humming. The two of us were working well in tandem, I realized. And Jasmine seemed to approve.

Finally, Corey looked up.

“You’re in Basic, you said? What time do you have to be back?”

I looked at my watch, “Unless I misunderstood my schedule, Monday morning for muster. Today is Saturday and we have the weekends off. What about you? When do you have to get back?”

“You really have it soft in Basic now, don’t you? Weekends off? We were on 24/7,” she waved a careless hand at the back of the Lancaster. “I’m camping out here. Making my own schedule. I’m... convalescing.”

My ears perked up at the obvious hesitation as I paused, momentarily, then went back to my work.

“Yes, we do seem to have it easy,” I replied as if I hadn’t noticed the pause. “It’s actually quite different from when I was in Basic with the Navy. Back then we weren’t allowed to leave base during our six weeks of boot camp. During the first weeks of ‘A’ school, where I learned how to be an electrician, we weren’t allowed to wear civilian clothing without special dispensation when we left the base. Of course, I always broke that rule and managed to get away with wearing civvies off base. Here, we get to go off base and wear our civilian clothing in our free time.”

“Navy. I’m not sure of the rules about fraternization,” Corey grinned suddenly. “But that would be the US Navy — hardly the same thing as the Senior Service, is it?”

The last was said as if to emphasize her independence.

“I discovered a really nice restaurant during my exploration of the town,” I said rather casually. “I can take you there sometime, if you like.”

“How would we get to town? I think I’m due an hour or two off base but,” again the slight hesitation. Then, defiantly, “And I tend to make my own rules, as well.”

“Convalescing, huh,” I asked. “From what?”

“I’m convalescing from a bad mission. A series of bad missions. You still sure you want to hang out with me?”

I paused and looked directly at Corey.

“Well unless you were given orders to stay put,” I began. “I’d suggest a night out would do you good. I’ve been through a few hairy missions myself. Talking about them can be therapeutic. We can talk about it over dinner. And if you don’t want to talk about it, the company would be pleasant.”

A gentle breeze came through.

“Besides,” I said suddenly with a grin, “we all have our faults. Mine’s in California. Goes by the name of Andreas. San Andreas.”

A reluctant smile crossed her face, followed by a brief, rusty chuckle — almost as if she hadn’t laughed in a long time.

“No. No orders to stay on base. I... chose Uxbridge because of the Lanc — it was the closest place to the salvage yard where I found her.”

She thought for a moment.

“A night out — pleasant company — no pressures. No...,” she finished.

I wasn’t sure I heard the last word, but it sounded like “burka.”

“I’d like that. When?”

“Well,” I began slowly, “we could go tonight if you want. I planned to go to that restaurant I told you about. Not expensive, but not one I’d normally go to by myself. Last time I went I was the only one not paired with someone. I promise dinner and a pleasant chat. Nothing more than that if that is all you feel up to doing.”

“I don’t...,” she hesitated, then obviously changed her mind about what she was going to say. “I don’t know if I have a dress to wear. But I have a dress pantsuit.”

She looked at me for a moment, brow crinkled in thought.

“The problem is transportation. Do you drive? Well, of course you do — you’re American — but do you drive here? I’m not sure I’d be up to traffic. Yet. Around the base, yes, but….”

She shut up abruptly as if caught rambling.

“Your dress pantsuit is fine,” I answered. “And unless I miss my guess, we can always catch a taxi at the stand not far from that Spitfire that’s near the main entrance to the base.”

“All right. Give me time to wash up and change — say — half an hour? I’ll meet you by the taxi stand.”

A quick smile, then, “If there aren’t any taxis we can always steal a car. I know where there’s one that’s always left with the keys in the ignition.”

There was a certain light in her eyes. The terms “reckless mischief” and “court-martialable offense” came to mind.

I gave her a knowing smile and said, “Make it an hour. I’m going to finish up what I’m doing here then head back to get cleaned up.”

“I’ll meet you at — or near — the front gate in an hour then,” came her reply.

As I finished what I had been working on, it suddenly dawned on me to wonder two things.

First, Corey had mentioned a burka. Did this mean she was of an Islamic faith? Or had she lived in some place like Afghanistan or Turkey?

Second, she mentioned a vehicle with its keys in the ignition. If she planned on “borrowing” it for a night on the town, I hoped no one would need it in an emergency or noticed its disappearance.

I chuckled to myself, thinking it had been awhile since I’d done anything that would get me into trouble with my instructors. Though one Halloween prank I pulled on my eleventh grade English teacher came to mind; got my rear end paddled for it.

After about fifteen minutes, I headed back to the barracks and got ready for dinner with Corey.

Less than an hour later I arrived at the gate and saw my date standing just inside. “The best pantsuit” was very dark blue, very military in cut, but carried no insignia and she was also carrying a shoulder bag. As I approached her, she turned towards me and smiled.

I smiled back and mentally noted the cut of the suit and thought back to the bozos who kidnapped Robyn Coyne. Mentally, I put myself on alert but didn’t make any noticeable sign.

“Well hello there,” I said cheerfully. “I see we both have the habit of taking a bag along wherever we go. As we say in America ‘it’s like an American Express Card. Don’t leave home without it.’”

I hitched my bag further up on my shoulder, using the movement to cover up me adjusting my paintball gun I had strapped to my back — I had it hidden under my dinner jacket. Ever since the rescue of Robyn Coyne, I’d taken to carrying my paintball gun around with me; its non-lethal and could be used as a distraction, at least, if I came across any trouble.

“I’m ready when you are,” I said and motioned her to lead the way.

“I parked the car outside. We have to hurry....”

I followed her through the gate, checking out as I went through. The guard snapped to attention and saluted. Corey answered with a casual wave.

The car was parked a little way down the road. It was large, black, and looked familiar.

Corey hurried to the car. The keys were indeed in the ignition. And the car was running.

Like most cars in England, the driver’s and passenger’s sides were the opposite of their American counterpart, and since I already had prior knowledge of this and since I hadn’t learned how to drive locally, I went immediately to the passenger’s side.

Another thing about English cars worthy of note is they have identical front and back license plates. Something I was familiar with from the States as well. Being a detective, I noted the plate number as I got in. Especially since I didn’t know whose car Corey managed to “borrow.”

The drive to town was short, and I gave Corey directions to the restaurant. Unsurprisingly, she parked the car with practiced ease, and we headed in.

The restaurant was only fifteen miles from the base. It was designed to give one the illusion of being in a Mediterranean atmosphere — a pleasant mix of Grecian and Italian Renaissance with modern day Mediterranean architecture. The piped in music was low and added to the cultural atmosphere. Economically priced to fit within my salary, it offered a menu to fit the time of day.

Normally, one needed a reservation in order to be seated at this hour. Due to a past favor done for the owner, Antonello, I needed no reservations.

“Roberto,” Antonello smiled happily with his thick Italian accent. “Good to see you again. And you brought some company with you this time. Quite beautiful she is. It’s a rare treat to see you here at this time of the evening, my friend.”

“It’s good to see you again too, Antonello,” I replied shaking hands with him.

I’d known Antonello from Naples — back in my Navy days — and helped him out of a spot of trouble. He and his family were so grateful they gave me free access to any of their restaurants any time I wished, with their compliments.

I didn’t abuse the privilege given me. However, anytime I went solo or with my buddies, Antonello was always there and never accepted any payment from me. I did catch him, from time to time, nodding approvingly when I generously tipped the staff. Sometimes, on a lark, I’d help with serving.

I never kept in touch with Antonello when I left Naples. So, I was pleasantly surprised to find out he was the owner of this restaurant when I first visited. Of course, the name of the place should’ve given me a clue, “Antonello’s”.

My old friend was happy to find us a seat.

He declined the £50 I had hidden in my palm when we shook hands. I promptly slipped into his jacket pocket when he wasn’t looking.

As we were being seated, I realized who owned the car. Wing Commander Henderson, the Base Commandant.

After Antonello left, I said to Corey, “I hope he’s not going to need his car anytime soon. I take it you’ve done this before?”

Corey’s eyes shone with mischief as she shook her head.

“No — first time. He’s one of those dreary ‘early to bed, early to rise’ types — and if we fill it up before we get back, he’ll never suspect.”

She paused for a moment in thought.

“I want a martini,” she said.

“Okay,” I said shaking my head chuckling, “I’m not going to ask how you found out his routine. Let’s just hope nothing comes up that’ll require his use of it.”

I waved to a waiter and ordered a martini for the both of us.

“So,” I said after the drinks had been ordered. “What brought you to Uxbridge?”

“An ambulance,” she answered simply and drained the drink in one draft, then set the glass aside.

When the waiter motioned for a refill, she waved him away.

“I don’t know how I’ll react. Five years is a long time without alcohol.”

She took a sip of water.

“No, I’m not an alcoholic,” she continued. “I was — working in the Middle East — Iraq, Iran. They’re very particular about the use of alcohol over there.”

A mischievous grin.

“I will have wine with my meal, though — even Jesus changed water into wine.”

I blinked in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” she said hastily. “Am I offending you?”

“No, not at all,” I answered, just as hastily. “I believe that every person’s choice of deity is just a part of the whole. As I see it, the basic tenets of each religion are just a different interpretation of the true thing. In other words, the different philosophies of religion make up the total and none of them are wrong. They’re just part of the kaleidoscope of the true meaning of who, or what, God is.”

I paused to take a sip of my water.

“From the sound of it,” I continued, “you must’ve soaked in some of the local theological beliefs or you grew up with it.”

“I grew up English — pure C of E. That’s Church of England. Went to an upper class English Boarding School outside London. Hated it. Joined up straight from school, IOT, the whole bit.”

She hesitated.

“I’m... sorry. I’m still not sure whom I can trust.”

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose before continuing.

“I got... I got some people killed out there. Good friends, not just... agents.”

The waiter chose that moment to stop by for our food order.

“Prime Rib — rare. Garlic roasted potatoes, Caesar salad. You’ve got to try the garlic roasted potatoes, Parker — I’ve heard this restaurant is famous for them.”

“I’m going to take the lady up on her suggestion and have the same thing she ordered,” I said to the waiter. “But make mine medium rare, please.”

“And a bottle of wine... what would you recommend?” Corey asked me.

“The house wine is always good.”

My cell phone rang at that moment. It was Drayton.

“Parker,” I heard as soon as I answered, “I don’t know where you are. But, they just pulled a surprise inspection. You’re not here, and you’re not checked out on the roster as being off-base.”

“Well I know I checked out at the front gate, Drayton,” I replied. “You know as well as I that its standard op to check out when leaving the base. I’m having dinner with a friend right now. And there isn’t much I can do about the inspection if they’ve already had it and you’re calling me now after the fact.”

Just then, Antonello walked by and gave me a questioning look. I shook my head and waved it off.

“Might as well give me an update on the situation.”

“The usual,” Drayton replied. “Every phone in the place rang. Thomlinson ordered us all to the Commons. Then, they tossed the rooms like they were looking for something. Then left.”

He sounded worried.

“Then Thomlinson came back, pulled me aside and wanted to know where you were.”

Yup, definitely worried.

“I had to say I didn’t know. He said you hadn’t checked out before leaving the barracks. I don’t know if he checked the front gate or not.”

Another pause.

“Oh, and Sami just showed up. There’s some kind of flap going on.”

Staff Sergeant Morgan Thomlinson was head of Basic Training. Not one you want to be on the bad side of. Add Sami Garrett to the mix and you had a cocktail that would make Mt. Vesuvius seem like a shaken soda bottle that had just been opened.

Corey’s cellphone rang while I was on the line with Drayton. I watched her as she checked the ID and stood.

“Would you excuse me, please? I need to take this.”

I watched her as she left the table and could see the mantle of command visibly drape across her shoulders. As she walked to the entrance, I came to realize this was no scared young girl. Corey was an aware, competent officer.

“Looks like my dinner date and I’ll be headed back to the base,” I said to Drayton. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

While talking to Drayton, I signaled to the waiter for the check — I left him a large tip to compensate for the early departure — and told him to keep the change for whatever the balance was. After hanging up with Drayton, I gathered our things and followed in the direction Corey went.

Corey was standing in the lobby, engaged in a quiet but heated argument over her cellphone.

“There is absolutely nothing that can be done tonight that cannot wait until tomorrow, Henderson.”

I paused when she said Henderson, and realized she was speaking with the Base Wing Commander. It was his ride she’d nipped.

“I don’t see that it is necessary for me to return to base tonight,” she continued. “You won’t be able to fly me out until first light.... The transport won’t be here until then, you just finished telling me that....”

I could just hear a muffled voice on the other end.

“I disagree… No, I’m no threat to you. I told you that when I arrived, and certainly the Air Vice-Marshal confirmed...,” she broke off as I came up to her.

She took a quick look at me before turning back.

“My date’s here, Dad and I’ll bring the car home before dawn,” she snapped the cellphone shut and smiled brightly at me.

She faced me, a hopeful look in her eye.

“I hope they didn’t throw our food away, I’m starving!”

“We’ll have to be seated again,” I apologized. “I already paid the waiter.”

I guided her back to our table.

“That was one of my teammates, Drayton,” I explained, “on my line. Apparently, Staff Sergeant Thomlinson ordered everyone to the Commons for a surprise inspection, tossed the barracks, then asked where I was. I already told Drayton that we were headed back. I can call him back up and tell him I’m going to be delayed if you want to finish dinner.”

“I do. That was WingCo Henderson. I’ve been rumbled. But I managed to persuade him not to — pull rank on me.”

She glanced at me in thought.

“Parker... I really don’t want to go back just yet. Do you mind? I... I’m enjoying being just ‘Corey’ for a while.”

She looked around, then linked her arm with mine. “Please?”

Jasmine was standing behind her, nodding emphatically.

“Robert, she needs you. She needs to have some uncomplicated fun for once, and you can provide that.”

“My lady,” I said in my best attempt of chivalry, “your wish is my command.”

After we were seated again, I excused myself to go to the men’s room.

Once there, and after checking to ensure privacy, I said to Jasmine, “I need your help on this, Jasmine. I’d already figured something was up. Now you’re telling me there’s more. Willing to share some info that you might have? Anything that might help me help her overcome whatever it is that’s bothering her would be appreciated.”

“She’s been surrounded by much danger and death, Robert. She needs a friend, someone who will stand by her and believe in her no matter what.”

Jasmine gave me a moment to let that sink in.

“She’s afraid of what her superiors will do to her. Her fears are unfounded, but she doesn’t know that.”

“Okay, I can handle being her friend and confidant if she needs it,” I replied slowly. Care to clue me in a bit more? Or do I have to keep guessing while I’m sitting with her?”

Jasmine curiously looked around. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I always wondered what a men’s room looked like. Disappointing, really.”

She looked at me again.

“Trust her, Robert. She’ll tell you in her own good time. She already trusts you because you haven’t shown curiosity or condemnation. Yes, she needs a friend, someone she can come to, and who’ll accept her unreservedly. There hasn’t been much trust in her life.”

Jasmine finished as she faded from view, “I’ll tell you more later, you can’t spend too much time in here or she’ll worry about you.”

As I headed back to Corey, I muttered to myself, “‘Disappointing,’ she says. What did she expect? Dancing bears and tigers jumping through flaming hoops?”

Back at the table, I smiled at Corey, apologized for taking so long and said, “Okay, ready to try this again? And what were we talking about?”

I figured I’d put Corey more at ease by letting her start up a conversation topic of her choosing.

“You,” Corey said propping her chin on her palm, eyes sparkling. “We were talking about you.”

Figuring we had the military in common, I told Corey about my years with the Navy. My decision to enlist, rapid promotions, and entrance into the Navy SEALs. I even told her some of my humorous moments within the outfit, keeping the mood light. I took the plunge and started to tell Corey about my supernatural encounter in the Philippines.

That’s when Jasmine grabbed my attention

“She’s not listening,” Jasmine whispered in my ear. “She’s really worried about something. See what you can do to get her to talk.”

I looked at Corey and saw that Jasmine was correct. Corey was looking far away at something only she could see and looked worried as hell.

“Hey, Corey,” I blurted out. “There are a couple of ET’s cousins behind you. They want you to take them to speak with Queen Elizabeth.”

“I’m sorry,” Corey said with a start. “What was that you said?”

“I said,” I replied with deep sincerity, “that a couple of extra-terrestrials want you to take them to speak with Queen Elizabeth. They say it’s a national emergency and only you have the clout to get them in to speak with Her Majesty.”

“Well,” she began quite business like, focusing her attention on me. “That will take some doing. First, we will have to interview them to determine just how much of an emergency it is. We will also have to put them through a battery of tests to make sure they truly are aliens. Then we will have to...”

Her voice slowly faded as she saw the slow grin on my face getting bigger while she’d been ticking off her list. Then shook her head slightly with a rueful grin realizing my intent.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “My mind is wandering, and it’s more of a distraction than I anticipated.”

“Well,” I said waving off the apology, “you seem to have been distracted since I met you earlier. It sometimes helps to talk to someone. And since you have the keys to the car, I’m not going anywhere. Want to talk about it?”

Corey picked up her glass of wine and turned it slowly in her hands. She took a sip, then put it down again.

“What’s civilian life like, Parker? I don’t know how well I’ll adapt...”

Her brow furrowed as our food came.

“I’m flying out tomorrow morning, back to London for a Board of Enquiry. Full dress uniform, the whole bit. They’ve even sent a supposedly neutral bodyguard. One of your lot, Parker. A Samantha Garrett, UNO-SPJ. I just wish they’d given me a little more time to get used to it…”

She let out a breath of frustration.

“See, I was running a network in the Middle East — Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, down into Kuwait. I’d been over there on and off for the better part of fifteen years. That’s how I know so much about Islam, I’d been living it.”

Another frustrated breath.

“I developed them all myself. Twenty in the core group, each one responsible for his own cadre. Standard cell stuff, should’ve been safe. But one of them turned traitor on me. Ever heard of Al-Qaeda? You will. They are a terrorist organization, Islamic fundamentalists. Sunni, not Shi’a. The Shi’a follow Muhammad’s son as the leader of Islam, the Sunni follow the Council of Clerics.”

She paused to take another sip of her drink.

“At least one of them was recruited into Al-Qaeda. Then started either turning or betraying the others to the authorities. Which meant arrest and execution.”

Her face crinkled as her eyes glistened.

“I... ran. I had a place to run to — the Embassy. The others didn’t. I abandoned them, Parker, I thought only of myself, and ran.”

Tears were running down her cheeks, but she didn’t seem to notice.

I thought back to the time when I had a traitor in my midst, knowing how she felt. I remembered how I went up in front of my court martial — I was sure I’d get booted out because I didn’t notice the traitor sooner. I remembered the relief I felt when it was discovered I wasn’t at fault and kept my commission.

Not long after, I joined the Peacekeepers.

I related this to Corey. I told her every detail I could remember.

“Tell me,” I said. “Do you think there was anything you could’ve done, really? Do you realize if you hadn’t run you’d most likely be dead? And not here in this fine restaurant having dinner with someone you just met?”

Corey gave a slight shake of her head.

“As for the Board,” I continued, “take my advice. Stick to your guns. Tell them everything that you know leading up to what happened over there. Look them straight in the eye and don’t waver. My guess is if you hadn’t gotten out when you did they wouldn’t have found out about this insurgent group until it was probably too late.”

I paused a moment.

“I seriously doubt you’ll get booted out. From what I can tell your knowledge and experience is too valuable for them to let you go. If they do, then they’re too stupid to realize what an asset they have. If they keep you, then you’ll have the resources at hand to stop these guys before they do something that’ll put the whole world into an uproar. And with your help, those who died to help prevent such a thing won’t have died in vain. And you’ll be honoring their memories to ensure that nothing does happen.”

I paused again to let that sink in.

“As for Garrett,” I continued. “Try not cracking any jokes around her if it’s a serious moment. I did that once inadvertently. The look she gave me would have made even a mummy’s blood boil.”

I gave a shudder to emphasize my point.

“And if you find yourself living life as a civilian,” I added, “then do me a favor. Keep in touch with me. Let me know how you’re doing occasionally. Tell you what, let me know how it goes either way. I’d like to stay in contact with you, no matter what the outcome.”

She nodded, slowly.

“Good points, Parker. I’ll try to keep them in mind.”

She took a bite of her food before continuing.

“Of course, there were things I could’ve done differently, but... I really don’t think I could’ve done anything better. If I could have, I would have. Does that make sense?”

I nodded.

“My ‘knowledge and experience’? Huh. I think it’s more likely I know where too many bodies are buried! I make my own rules, Parker, I think I already said that? It’s gotten me in hot water before, and... I’m afraid that will tell against me.”

She took a deep breath.

“Give me your phone number. I’ll let you know, either way. And depending on what happens next, I’ll stay in touch, as best I can. No promises. I’ve been in Intel too long to make promises about that sort of thing. But I’ll do my best.”

She leaned forward, gently touched my hand, and settled back in her seat.

“And I hope you’ll understand if you don’t hear from me,” as she took a deep breath, then continued. “I....”

She gave a shy smile; one I hadn’t seen before.

“I’ve enjoyed this. It would’ve been nice to repeat it.”

“I think it’s safe for you to call me Robert,” I said as I wrote down my number. “I understand if you can’t keep in contact as often as you like. Life tends to get in the way more often than not when we want to do something and causes almost all of our best laid plans to be thrown out the window.”

I shrugged.

“But then again, if Life was all about everyone getting what they want, it would either be boring or chaos. And when you are out in the field, most times you have to make your own rules. In our kind of life, the rules that we’re given, are often just a guideline to follow. That, I learned a long time ago.”

“As for having a repeat,” I went on with a surprised and pleased smile, “whenever we do meet again, you get to choose the restaurant. One request though. For mode of transportation, think you could ‘borrow’ a tank?”

By this time the restaurant was empty of all other patrons, and the staff was, quite simply, waiting for us to leave. It was close to midnight, and we’d been there about three hours.

“Umm, it looks like the staff’s ready to clean up,” I said, realizing how quiet the restaurant was. “We can continue this conversation elsewhere if you want. Unless you have to get back right away. What time do you have to be back? I must confess I’m enjoying the company as well. I haven’t done this in a long time.”

“I fly out tomorrow morning. 0600. Straight to the Board. Yes, they’re convening on Sunday — especially for me,” she pulled a rueful face. “Captain Garrett said she would pick me up at about 0530.”

Another sip of her Amaretto.

“No, it doesn’t take that long to fly up to London. The Board starts at eight in the morning, but I presume there will be preliminary questioning.”

She hesitated.

“This is probably not the wisest thing, but... I’ve been known to operate on as little as two hours’ sleep, before.”

Her eyes had a faraway look.

“I don’t anticipate any jail time,” she quietly went on. “I suppose the worst they can do is break me for cowardice. But...”

She focused back on me.

“I came in straight from high school. I haven’t known anything else. And my father...”

She bowed her head momentarily.

“We’ve only spoken once since I got back. He was... not complimentary. ‘Conduct unbecoming’ was the least of it.”

Corey savored the last drop of her Amaretto, then stood, and turned for me to help her with her jacket.

After helping with her jacket, I left another sizeable tip on the table, and we walked to the door.

“So, Corey,” I said, “Umm, I can call you Corey, right?”

“Of course... Robert.”

“I like the way you say that,” I said with a smile. “Anyway, what do you want to do, now? I’m up for anything at this point. And I’ve been known to go over four days without sleep.”

She looked around the restaurant as if trying to memorize it.

“I can’t promise you a tank. But for the restaurant.... Well, I’ll come up with something.”

A quick smile.

“If we were in London, I would suggest a walk along the river.”

“Well,” I began. “If I remember correctly there’s a nice little park with a fairly large pond and fountain in the center of it. If you want to walk along that. And as for the tank that was just to see if I could get you to smile.”

I was rewarded with a brilliant smile. The first such I had seen from her.

“Perfect!”

Once in the car, I gave Corey directions to the park. When we arrived, I made sure that my phone was shut off. I didn’t feel like having any interruptions to break this rare treat. As we walked along the pathway Corey linked her arm in mine and sighed happily. She rested her head on my shoulder and relaxed for probably the first time since she got back.

“You seem more relaxed now,” I said after a pleasant few minutes of silence. “I think this outing has done you some good.”

She smiled at me as she replied, “Unconditional acceptance. You don’t care who I am, or what I’ve done. Thank you.”

I smiled back.

“You’ve given me no reason to be suspicious of you. Besides, if you recall, I’ve had some experience with the military and understand that things can get hairy at times. Sometimes more so than others. I’ve learned to try to take times like those as Life’s way of keeping things interesting.”

I paused and turned Corey to me.

“Not only that,” I said pulling Corey closer to me, “I’m in the company of a beautiful woman who looked like she needed a friend and not someone badgering her over something that wasn’t her fault.”

“Robert, thank you,” she said as her face turned to mine with obvious implication.

Taking the hint, I pulled Corey close to me and touched my lips to hers. She responded. Hesitantly at first, then with enthusiasm. I had the distinct impression that, while this was not unfamiliar, it had been a long, long time.

Unsure as to how to proceed from here, as it had been a long time for me as well, I lost myself in the moment, and decided to follow Corey’s lead. The kiss was clumsy at first. But as we both remembered, old behaviors became more expert, more satisfying.

Finally, a little dizzy — emotion? lack of oxygen? We broke off by mutual consent and stood, still holding each other, gazing into each other’s eyes. And what I saw was as good as what went before. For her part, trust, thankfulness for my acceptance. For mine....

“Well that was fun,” I said with a slow smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve done something like that.”

Another lingering kiss.

“So where do we go from here?” I asked, not wanting to sound too hopeful or too eager. I’d already made up my mind to let her decide on what to do.

She sighed, “Back to base, I suppose. I really need to get some sleep before...”

Almost desperately, she pulled me to her again, lips seeking mine. It was as if she wanted to store a good memory before the horrors of the day to come...

I returned the kiss with fervor and allowed the moment to overcome me and reluctantly pulled back when she ended the kiss.

She looked at me, tears in her eyes.

“Ah, Robert.”

I waited.

“I am... tempted. To resign my commission. To come back to you….”

She must have seen something in my eyes because she stopped.

“It... wouldn’t work, would it?”

I didn’t answer; it was evident in what she saw in my eyes.

“No. We are children of duty, you and I. As such, we do what is required of us and take our pleasure where it presents itself.”

She shook herself, and the moment ended.

“Take me back to the base, Parker. I... I’m ready.”

With a last hug and kiss I took Corey’s arm in mine and headed back to the car, thankful for the brief moment of tenderness we shared. We were both quiet on the way back to the base; both of us thinking of what might’ve happened had she decided differently. But as she said, we both were bound by our duty. At least for now. Perhaps the day would come when we wouldn’t be so bound and could continue where we left off.

Later, I found the £50 I had slipped into Antonello’s pocket back in my jacket pocket with a note written by him:

Roberto,

You haven’t changed, my friend. I am glad to see you are still the same generous man you were back then.

The young woman with you is quite lovely and I hope she will be with you again in the future the next time you come to my restaurant. If I were to make a guess, I’d say the two of you were a natural pair.

Save the £50 for your young lady and use it to buy her something nice and pretty.

Antonello

The next morning, I deliberately didn’t go to the window when I heard the helicopter land. Then, a few minutes later, take off. I already knew I’d see a strong, confident officer, all thought of weakness behind her, ready to defend her decisions and accept whatever Fate had in store for her.

She didn’t give me her cell phone number. Further contact would have to come from her. Perhaps she would. Perhaps not. Either way, I knew I would cherish that evening and remember it.

I also realized that she didn’t give me any name other than ‘Corey’. Even now I’m fairly sure she is RAF. But what rank? No idea.

Sure, I could use all the skill available to me to track her down. I could follow her entire career if I chose. But I decided not and felt it would serve her, and us, better in the future for me to respect her privacy.

When I told Jasmine about it over one of our nightly games of chess, she seemed pleased by my actions and showed her pleasure by checkmating me in five moves.

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