Palisades Avenue, Teaneck.
O-Peck didn't let their presence be known. Not that easily. Those guys were six-strong. They were small and tough like that. Before they presented themselves to us, we were met by Captain Mapleman's secretary, Ms. Yuki Matsumoto. She was probably the one who worded the captain's letter. Inside a town building along that avenue, the Pali' squad crowded between walls that were approximately a yard-and-a-half apart, reeking of aging wood and sour mold. On the left of the narrow lobby was the lounge. On the right—the kitchen.
The O-Peck secretary busily skimmed through papers beside a staircase that led to both the upper floors and the basement. I heard their squad moving about above us, the thumping of their boots pulsing at the same pace of my heartbeat. More people meant more guns, and I was afraid of that. I was afraid of the prospect, and it was only that late in the operation that my mind processed it completely.
"Who's at the door, Yuki?"
"Palisades Reconnaissance."
I certainly wasn't there to journal Fort Lee. I'll tell you that. There was more to it. That snub nose of mine was going to be put to good use. If they weren't going to issue me anything else, that is. I was tasked with bringing along archives regarding that "Lion-6" 3PL which somehow connected T-SIAP to the Hexagon. Captain Finer advised me not to read it, so I didn't, though I was left curious as to why.
When I turned the archival records over to the O-Peck secretary, she called Captain Finer and Anais upstairs. She called Lieutenant Miller as well, though he wasn't in the building. He was outside, smoking I believe. I had no clue what went on up there, and with how secretive some were to others, I wasn't so sure if I was the only one left in the dark or not. I didn't bother asking. There was no point to it.
They were talking up a storm on that second floor, not fighting, rather brainstorming. It's just that the O-Peck captain had a voice just as booming as Captain Finer's. Downstairs however, we all let our spit rot in our mouths. None of us said a word. The secretary was there with us, though it looked like her mind was fixated on the front door.
I broke the silence, "Are you alright, Ms. Matsumoto?"
The secretary sat at her desk which was the kitchen island. I knew the workstation was hers for she had the exact same typewriter as Pope. Same finish and all. She invited me in and offered me to sit.
"Yes," Ms. Matsumoto replied. "And you?"
"I'm alright." I asked her, "How's Teaneck been treating you? We don't hear much about this place. Well, aside from Overpeck Creek, everything else happens everywhere else. We even had ambushes not far from Mercado Lane. It's concerning if you ask me."
"I'll say this: this stagnant point in the operation is all anyone can ask for nowadays, and I wish it was something I could share." The secretary began pacing all over the kitchen, putting folders in cupboards, binders in drawers, and books on countertops. The place was no longer a kitchen area to her. It was a log room. "What about you? How often do you get to take a breather around Mercado Lane?"
"Often," I told her, "but the risk of getting 'got' is perpetually at an all-time-high."
"That's a bummer." She said to me, "I try not to be a burden. At the same time, I accepted the fact that these hands aren't built for racking slides and pulling triggers. If only the saying: 'a pen is mightier than a sword' were true, then I'd be writing a way out of this crisis. It just doesn't work like that, does it?"
"I'm afraid so."
"So," the secretary glanced at the journal, asking me, "you're the ADC's wife?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Condolences."
"Thank you. You've heard of me?"
"Of your husband." Ms. Matsumoto looked back when she said that, making sure that the cupboards were properly sealed. "We never got in touch with Pali' until now. So even though we've heard of your folk, you're not safe from first impressions. Neither are we. I forgot to thank you for defending our camp from Hexagon convoys. We are eternally grateful for your sacrifices."
"Oh, please," I kindly wagged my head. "If there's anyone to thank, it would be Captain Finer. Well, Lieutenant Miller, too. He did all the heavy lifting. That man has a loud mouth, but he also has a kind soul."
"Miller?" She looked confused… then afraid.
"Ms. Matsumoto?" I held her hand. It was rock-solid. "Are you alright?"
The secretary left me sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen, rushing through the archway, parting our crowded men, and sticking her eyes to the front door's glass. She grabbed the knob then forcefully pulled inwards, bringing the door close to her chest and revealing the lieutenant on the other side with a smoke and a flask occupying his hands.
I jolted in my chair, "Ms. Matsum—"
"Hi, Trevor…" The secretary greeted Lieutenant Miller in the softest tone that had ever stroked anyone's ear, but the man didn't speak. He didn't even look at her. "Trevor? Talk to me."
The lieutenant asked her as if he didn't know who she was, "Where's Captain Finer?"
"Upstairs." Ms. Matsumoto had her fingers in a weave. She was nervous. "It's good to see you, you know?"
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, really." Her smile faded away by the seconds. "I don't deserve this."
"Of course, you don't. I told you a million times you deserved better—"
"The silent treatment, Trevor. I'm talking about the silent treatment."
"And I'm talking about everything else." He didn't yell, though his voice was gradually getting louder and louder.
"And I don't care about everything else." Ms. Matsumoto was the only person who could answer back at him and not find herself on the receiving-end of f-bombs and whatnot. She talked to him like she was scolding him. "What is this? What do you call this? You send me away, force me into this position, and then bail? You leave without saying a word?"
Back at Mercado Lane, the lieutenant talked about himself like he was a liability or someone who was cold and harsh, and in some instances, I saw him in that light. Perhaps, if one were madly in love with someone like that, those notions would just go over their head. That was starting to be the case with the secretary. The way her chest and chin naturally hovered close to him. She fell hard.
Jud, jud, jud!
Soldiers, both from Pali' and O-Peck, marched down the steps in a chain. First in line was Captain Finer, followed by Anais, then, judging by the teal bands they had tied around their biceps, the O-Peck captain and his second-in-command.
Capt. Christopher Mapleman had this irremovable smirk on his face, and it wasn't the kind that irritated people. He looked like Lieutenant Miller if he had groomed himself a bit and wasn't giving people the thousand-yard stare all the time.
The woman at his back, 2Lt. Vivien Yemelyanova, looked a little goofy. I mean, she had no odd quality or anything like that, but big, round glasses, bouncy pigtails, and a headgear weren't things I associated with military units until then.
Captain Mapleman broke the line and walked alongside Captain Finer with an M4A1 across his gut. Lieutenant Yemelyanova had one, too.
The Pali' captain told them, "Pope's guards will meet us at Fort Lee. They're on their way as we speak. Once they arrive, Pali' will start heading east. We'll deal with Eyes and Ears while you and Nyack folk take care of the DMZ."
"Is Pope okay with this? With handing over her men?" Captain Mapleman asked.
"She's the one who sent the letter. She's fine with it."
"And where's General Vergs? I'd like to see him face-to-face one of these days. Grab a beer, have a smoke. I reckon you guys don't have the time and/or privilege of doing any of those things. Well, except for Miller, but the guy's insane."
Captain Finer replied, "I think it's best that the general abstains from that."
"Why?"
"Let's just say he's been drinking."
I couldn't see what was happening at the end of the corridor since people started cramming by the stairs. The longer I stood there, the more the captains' voices faltered. Ms. Matsumoto ushered her way through the crowd and reached for my hand, walking with me at the end of the chain. She apologized for her quarrel with the lieutenant as we waddled across the dusty floors.
Humvees zipped past the town building—it looked like we were in a rush. The secretary and I were forced to split as the captains told us to go to our respected squads. We didn't waste any more time on that strip. Once the engines were hot, both teams drove out, heading for Fort Lee. If I had known what I was truly getting myself into, I would have given my regards to peace and quiet.
Those two things bailed on me rather quickly.
Fort Lee, New Jersey, October 11th, 1992.
The stillness of things—they just… went away.
Our convoy rode into a cloud that perpetually filled the streets. The air was so black that it stained our windshields. There was an ashfall bathing the towers, the barracks. I saw raging fires dancing south of the frontier. Bodies were lined up by the gutters. All had purple heads and slit throats, and I couldn't tell if they were friendly or not—they were all bared.
That's where the rest of the regiment stayed the entire time, sucking toxic air, wandering through a stinging mist. Some walked with their hands wrapped around their throats. They were dying. Captain Finer drove me. The lieutenant manned a second jeep with Anais and St. Vier, so it was just the two of us. I let the weakening cushion of my backrest swallow me whole as I watched the flares kiss the passenger window.
I didn't feel safe. Yes, we were riding into the northern border of the Barren Buffer Zone—that foolish act alone was a death wish—though I was afraid for a different reason. I had a hunch that the little huntress' alias wasn't the only thing they kept secret from me.
Immediately, I remembered why I was there in the first place. I remembered why I took the job, then after, how General Vergs averted my query regarding Tommy's demise, and how all he said to me back then was "we're getting to the bottom of it". Of course, Captain Finer gave me a solid answer, but as we rode deeper into the frontier, the more I thought about it. I couldn't help but feel that there was more to it.
Like they knew something I didn't.
"What other secrets are you keeping from me?" I asked him.
"Other? What secrets did I keep from you?"
"You tell me…"
Slowly, Captain Finer lightened his press on the gas. "Is this about Anais? Look, I know how you are, and I respect how you're willing to fulfill Tommy's tasks. I also know that means asking people questions as you please. If you were to query the doctor about L'enfant Du Diable, then that would've caused a stir. I mean, she knows who that is, but that brings up questions. People'll start talking, spilling information. We just didn't want you to know back then. That Devil Child stuff—I didn't know how you'd take it."
"I took it well, didn't I?"
"You did." He smiled—I didn't. "Is… Is there something wrong?"
What else were you keeping from me? Why couldn't I read the archives? Why did I get odd stares every time someone asked about my surname? All these questions made my head want to explode and be relieved of all that pressure, however I didn't want to reel myself into a conflict with the captain. Instead, I answered him, "I'm scared."
Our jeep halted on Jane Street.
"I'm scared, too," said the captain. "Not a single time was I not scared."
"Well, I'm not you. It doesn't eat you up inside as much as it does for me."
The Pali' captain pulled the brakes and retracted the key from the ignition. "I'm not putting you out there if that's what you think. I wouldn't do that to you. I would never—"
"I…" I couldn't get the words past my throat. "I…"
"What is it, Baby?"
"I'm worried… about folk." That was true. "And… I worry about you." That was true, too. "But if there are things that I don't know about, and you get in trouble, and you get hurt, I might never hear about those things ever. I don't want to be in the dark."
"Lisa," the captain held my hand, "look at me." He brought me in as close as he could. Nothing but a gearbox kept us apart. "You're not in the dark. You can trust me on that. I wish there was something I could say right now to ease you, but there's none. You have every right to feel unsafe and concerned, but don't you think that it's because of us. We're not here to harm you."
"I know that."
"I know you know, but Lisa, I don't want you to become estranged with us. Not over a hunch." He slipped the Escort in my hand and said to me, "Once this is over, we can sit down and talk. I'll tell you everything I know. I promise, okay?"
I let the silence linger, his grasp thawing my shooting hand. He wasn't there to harm me. I knew that, but the reassurance was something that came and went like a soft kiss on the cheek or a caring stroke on the back. It was scarce, and I needed more of it. "Okay," I told him.
"I worry about you, too," he said then went.
* * *
Eyes and Ears had guards on Hudson Drive. It was a narrow strip, had a brick wall on one side, the river on the other, and tall trees all around. It was the perfect hunting ground for enemy snipers. We didn't exactly know how many were on the other side of the Hudson. For all we knew, they could've been moving around, but we were willing to take our chances. Anais did reconnaissance. She spotted a Hexagon hive occupying the Washington Bridge's viewing platform, informing us that the place had CB radios, computers, and printed documents. It sounded like Eyes and Ears had some sort of relay base on our side of the river.
Main Street, the other one—the one in New Jersey.
"The plan is simple," Captain Finer drew a circle on his map. "Miller, you assist Anais on the bridge. You'll be dealing with Eyes and Ears while the rest of the squad pushes on the hive—"
"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute." Lieutenant Miller felt different about the plan. "The girl's yours. She shoots better with you around."
"And she shoots fine with anyone around at all."
"The kid's our responsibility, too. I know that. But above all, when the general and the doctor aren't around, she's technically yours to look after. Let me push the squad. I can do it."
"And risk having you go into another frenzy? Ridiculous. You're good, but a bit too good. We need them neutralized. Not massacred." The captain added, "And besides, Baby's my responsibility, too. The woman can look after herself, but I insisted. We don't need another aide-de-camp fallen to the foe." He turned to me and said, "Again, I'm not putting you out there on the line, but I need you in my sights. Is that clear?"
I responded, "Yes, sir."
The lieutenant scoffed, "Pff, please. All you've got is a beach blonde and a gun slave. You'll need a massacre with the company you're with."
The lieutenant had a point. At least, in my opinion. We should've called in more men for the job. The only reason we didn't was because we needed the manpower for the DMZ job: O-Peck, Pope's militiamen, and the rest of the force. An armed trusty and a snowflake—that is poor company.
The captain was adamant with his decision. "Stick to the plan, alright?"
Lieutenant Miller nodded.
We were planning on infiltrating their campsite through the woods. There was a clearing near the viewing platform in Washington Park that was being used by the French as an outpost. Just before that was a patch of greenery that grew all over the side of the Tellers Tower which was an apartment building that was evacuated due to bomb and airstrike threats. That's where we were headed. Captain Finer told us to wait for Anais' signal before we could open fire. We were going in covertly.
Beep. I never got used to those radios.
"Finer, what's your status?" It was the O-Peck captain.
"This is Captain Finer. Our troops are ready to trek west."
"Can you wait a bit? Ms. Matsumoto is heading your way."
The Pali' captain smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He wasn't too happy with the idea of standing around a second more, though I thought it came in handy. To mentally prepare oneself, you know?
"What? Why?"
"The secretary wishes to retrieve information from that hive. She's been keeping tabs on the Hexagon for months. Anything new for her in that regard can possibly serve as leads to something even bigger. And judging by how recently Mrs. Baby joined the fray, I don't think she knows a lot, right?"
"I guess." The Pali' captain asked, "Can she fire a gun?"
"Angel grip and virgin fingers. No, she can't."
It appeared that Captain Finer had no other choice. We had already been notified that our forces were pushing into southern Fort Lee territory. If what the O-Peck captain said was true, and Ms. Matsumoto was really on the way to our AO, that meant the gap was only getting wider. There was no point in her going back.
And so, the Pali' captain responded by saying, "Fine. This is a waste of fuel, and I hope you know that. We should've had her ride with us from the get-go."
"It's a war, Finer, not the apocalypse. We'll get some gas on the way back."
Oct. 11, 1992
It's always the people I care so much about that fate parts me from. I shouldn't be one to judge You, but surely, through my devotion to You, that love and compassion is to be reciprocated. Right now, as I am hunkered down in this four-wall room, I don't feel Your love nor Your compassion. Sometimes, I wonder if You're just toying with me at this point. That might be the case. It's not far from it. I need something to keep me going. Not something to keep me down. I always bite the latter.
Tellers Tower.
Writing that entry alone made me so sick in the stomach. I was that soft. I got on my knees and began panic-praying. I pleaded, "Lord, I do not doubt Your presence. I know that You are with me, watching me, guiding me. I am lost, and all I need from You is a sign. If You can just show me, I can take on the rest from here. I promise. That is my duty as Your servant. To utilize Your signs. I have faith. I've always had it. Work with me, Lord… I'm begging You."
I was tired of feeling afraid all the time, afraid for myself and for others. It was like having my stomach gouged out or my heart poked with thorns. I couldn't breathe from how weak I was, and that irked me to the core. No one else froze as bad as me.
Captain Finer had assigned me to look after Ms. Matsumoto instead. We were told to wait it all out. It meant we were safe from harm. It also meant that I alone was supposed to look after the O-Peck secretary. She was a sweetheart—don't get me wrong—but if I was already what the guys considered a helpless dame, she was twice that. I didn't let my guard down for a second. My arms and legs were spring-loaded, and my eyes scanned the place in a machine sort of way. That lady wasn't going to die. Not on my watch.
"Are you alright, Mrs. Baby?"
"Oh, why, yes." I smiled and told her everything was going to be fine despite my insides doing all they can to keep me from shutting down. "If you, well… hear me mumbling, I'm just praying, and I do it rather often."
"Oh, I see."
Bang! Bang, bang!
There was a full-on war going on out there. Muzzle flashes, shimmering lenses. It was seventeen hundred, so you could really see those lights brush up against the trees.
"My God, that's frightening." The secretary shelled up in the sheets which she stripped from the bed. She cozied up on a couch that we both set up against the door. "In my entire time working with O-Peck, I had never seen anything like it."
"Then it must've been really peaceful in Teaneck Creek," I said to her. "Stuff like this, when they happen, you just… flinch. Well, I get scared a bit, but the other guys don't. Not even Anais." When I looked back at her, she had her hands in the crevices of the couch like she was trying to calm herself down or keep her arms from spasming. I asked her, "Are you alright? You seem on edge."
"I don't know." The secretary retraced her arms from underneath the cushions and stood from the sofa. "I don't know what else to say to him. It's like he knows everyone else more than he knows me." She fiddled with an old compass that had Japanese characters in all four directions: north, south, east, and west. The way she stroked it with her thumb—the piece looked prized. "You know, I get it. I understand why he did what he did, but I'm over that now, and between the two of us, I'm the one in charge of the final say, and I say: 'come on over'. Still, he pushes away."
"The lieutenant? He said he was a… a 'jerk-off'."
"He is a jerk-off, but he's also my responsibility."
I asked her, "May I… May I know what he did that made him stray away?"
"Well—"
Knock, knock.
Those two knocks on the door scared us half to death. What followed was a voice speaking in French. He didn't sound like he was talking to anyone else. It sounded like he was addressing the room, asking us to step out.
Thud! Thud!
He began charging the door, causing the sofa to inch away with every strike. I held Ms. Matsumoto's hand and brought her to the bedroom where I asked her to hide under the bed. Her short screams and gasps made it through the walls. I mean, they were paper-thin. I was certain that her screams made it through the door as well. We heard wood snapping and locks jangling. The Hexagon guard was breaching the entryway. I tried hiding under the bed along with the secretary, though there was no more time. Once I got down on my knees…
Crack!
The door snapped. Then swung.
Caught in a panic, I frantically scurried over to the closet and sealed myself in. I couldn't tell if those thumping sounds were footsteps or my heart in my ears. The bed squeaked, the blinds rattled, and the door creaked. It sounded as if there were multiple people scoping the place, though I knew it was just the one guy. A draft came through the breached door and caused a mild disturbance.
The Hexagon guard, upon entering the bedroom, lowered the blinds then turned off the bedside lamp. After, he kicked the bed, nudged a chair, and switched on the TV. There was static. The light from the television bled through the gap in the closet door. The guard, from where he stood, looked dead into my eyes. I was positive that he couldn't see me despite the flickering light. I guess my eyes had a shine to 'em.
He aimed his gun at me, however I didn't squirm. Maybe he was bluffing. Maybe he wasn't sure if someone really was in the closet, so I chose to keep my cool. He then aimed at the bed. That's what scared me. I was waiting for the troop to lower his aim, though he wasn't going to. He was locked on, ready to fire.
"No, no, no," I whispered.
Ever so slowly, my Escort creeped through the gap, rattling like a coiled snake. His sharp head turn forced me to pull the trigger. Even before he broke into the room, it was already a losing battle, so I wasn't going to take any chances brawling with that guy. A cheap shot was a good shot.
Bang!
Of course, the Lord and His kindness let things play out the way they were supposed to. And so, it was a swing and a miss. The French soldier abandoned the bed and charged the closet, bursting through the doors like a raging bull and grabbing me by my hips. He lifted me off the ground as if I was made from paper, manhandled me like a chew toy in a dog's mouth.
"Let go of me," I cried.
The O-Peck secretary crawled out from under the bed and tried to help in any way she could, though one kick to the jaw left her seeing stars. I was on my own.
"Ms. Matsumoto!"
I was aggressively slammed onto the bed then turned onto my belly. He pressed me with his weight, whispering into my ear in a venal tone. My wrists were shackled by his grip and my legs were spread apart by his. I knew what he was doing.
He loomed over me like a shadow on the ceiling. My pistol fell somewhere. I just couldn't tell where. There was no shine, no shimmer. What I thought were the chimes of the Escort nudging the bed frame was actually my belt buckle swinging from my shins. I had been stripped from the waist-down.
With the blinds down and the TV flickering, it was almost impossible to look around the bedroom. He got my trousers down to my ankles before Ms. Matsumoto interrupted by firing into the Hexagon guard's thigh with the Escort, grazing mine in the process. He rolled off of me, and finally, I caught my breath. However, I still couldn't move. I was rocked to my core.
"Baby?!" The O-Peck secretary was clueless. She didn't know what to do after all that. "Baby, are you okay?!"
The guard was tossing and turning next to me, but it felt as if I was still mounted on, being toyed with by an incubus. I rolled away from him and let myself fall off the other end of the bed. I kicked and screamed, thinking that my pants and my belt were his hands, wrangling my feet together like I was caught in a lasso.
"Baby!"
The guard sprung up and chased the secretary into the living room, leaving his rifle bedside.
"Baby, help me!"
I hoisted myself up and crawled to the other side of the bed, my trousers slipping from my feet and lying next to my faulty .38 special. I reached for the enemy firearm. It was heavy. I wore its strap over my shoulder and limped out of the bedroom, aiming at the guard from behind, yelling at him to let the woman go. He refused to. At that point, I couldn't control myself.
I shot him twice in the back, then two more times in the gut as he turned over. Forcefully, I pulled Ms. Matsumoto out of the way and threw her next to the couch. I fiddled with the gun for a while, looking for its selector switch. The guard wasn't going anywhere. I had the time to fiddle with it.
Flick.
With the rest of the rounds, blew the man's head into bits and pieces. I even dug a shallow pit on the tiled floor past that. That assault rifle bucked me in the gut like a horse kicking with its hind legs. That thing hurt, but it felt good. For the first time in my life, I was glad that someone was dead, and it wasn't even someone I knew. For the first time, someone looked at me with utter shock and horror, and I didn't feel an ounce of pity or sorrow. Maybe that's the way it was supposed to be. That gun—it made me feel powerful. It made me feel like I had a say.
"Baby… I— I'm sorry. I—"
Ms. Matsumoto looked horrified by what I did, backing away, probably thinking I was going to do the same to her. Silently, I limped back into the bedroom to retrieve my pants. Through the blinds, I saw a Hexagon jeep parked in the driveway, troops entering the building.
Beep.
That time, the radio didn't scare me.
Captain Finer asked, "Baby, what's your status?"
"Uhm… The French found Tellers Tower. They're entering the building."
"What? Are you hurt?"
There was a gash swelling on my thigh. I was hurt pretty bad. "No, but we need to leave."
Bang! Bang!
Gunfire emitted from my radio. It looked like they were still clashing with the relay camp.
"We have supplies coming in from Main Street," said the captain. "Yemelyanova's on her way. You think you can hang tight?"
No, we couldn't. Searchlights filled the halls. We saw them past the door frame.
"Baby? Baby, respond—"
I had to keep my radio. It was cutting out anyway. There must have been another way to go about it. The guns were too loud, but at the same time, there was no way I was going to be able to sneak up on any of them, and if I ever did, it probably would've ended up with me on the ground and them on top of me just like the guy in our room. I ushered Ms. Matsumoto into the bathroom.
"Look at me," I held her by the sides of her head. "We're going to make it out of this, okay? Trust me. I'll get you out of here." My words weren't getting through to her. The secretary was inconsolable. "Ms. Matsumoto," I looked into her eyes, though they didn't look back at me. All I was getting was a blank stare. "No… No, no. Don't do this to me."
I swiped the Escort from her hands and crept back into the bedroom, switching off the television and letting the whole room go black. The enemy rifle crushed me with its sheer weight as I let it swing over my shoulder. I stalked and stalked. They weren't entering. It turned out, they were stalking, too. Their muzzles peeked from the door frame as they waited for me to come out. Dead-quiet the whole place was. You could hear a pin drop. In all honesty, they could have just barged in there and got it over with. Thankfully, they didn't know who I was nor my incapabilities, but that didn't make the situation any better.
"Lord," I called to Him, "work with me here… Please?"
Shadows began warping all around me. It was game over. All I did was cower and wait for whoever was on the other side to steal my last breath. Ms. Matsumoto didn't make a sound in the bathroom, Lieutenant Yemelyanova was still on her way, and Captain Finer was nowhere near me. All odds were against me. Not a thing in my favor. The least I could do was not go down so damn easy. I gathered my bearings and switched the snub nose out for the rifle, holding it how a Pali' soldier would.
Chu-chik!
Above me, I felt Tommy's presence. I believed that very moment, he was going to fetch me, and I was okay with that. In that hour, live or die, I didn't care.
"Talk to me, Tommy…"
* * *
A husk of a woman I was as I kicked the lobby doors and stumbled out of there, blood—mine and not—running down my face, my body. In hand was my trusty Escort, the .38 shrink-wrapped under my drenched shirt. Against all odds, against faith, against the trials the Lord sent my way, Ms. Matsumoto and I emerged not victorious, but rather on the brink of death as we dragged our heels out of that bloodbath.
I wanted to do something similar to how Anais went about combating enemy soldiers. I wanted to shoot hands and knees, arms and legs, anything but their heads and torsos, but there was no way to do it without risking mine. I shot through the walls instead, and I didn't stop until they stopped screaming.
"Baby?"
The secretary, wrapped in my leather parka, held onto my shoulders. She asked me if I was okay, though I couldn't comprehend what she was saying. Her face was a blur, her voice was muffled, and her touch was numbed. I think I was shell-shocked. Lieutenant Yemelyanova's jeep came rushing into the building's driveway. She hopped down the humvee, slammed her door, then immediately tended to me.
"Yuki, is Baby alright?"
"I believe so, but…"
"But what?"
"She's unresponsive."
My knees gave, my back coiled up, and my head kissed the pavement. That was my lowest point. I had lost my sanity. Lieutenant Yemelyanova took my gun and forced me to my feet.
I regained consciousness a bit as she told me, "We have to hurry! Lieutenant Miller got shot, and he's losing a lot of blood! We don't have time to waste!"
It turned out that the whole strip of Hudson Drive was a to-and-from route used by the Hexagon, so that "relay base" was actually a checkpoint, and was fortified further south, armed to the teeth like their camp in Edgewater. General Vergs and Pope made a big mistake with that. There was no "back to the drawing boards". The French were red-hot and on our trail. If any of us were to bail, they would have sent a team out to gun us down right away.
Captain Mapleman notified us that Pope's militiamen were going to block off Hexagon reinforcements from River Road, sealing off Hudson Drive from the south while Captain Finer requested heavy artillery to guard the Washington Bridge, carrying with them twelve additional troops. The rest maintained their position at Edgewater. The guns, the people—we should've rode in with all of that from the start.
When we returned near the viewing platform, Lieutenant Yemelyanova sat me down on a log where I got to see regiment soldiers flush in with salvaged artillery. Turrets, tanks, mortars—they all had that enemy badge plastered on them. Their growls came from the bridge where I saw Anais retreating along with the Pali' captain. He must've substituted for Lieutenant Miller.
What really caught my eye was the trusty who did all the work from the ground. She had a somber look in her eye, and while the others zipped by in a panic, she moved rather routinely. Slow and controlled. I had the sense she knew who she was firing at, knew as in personally. I also had a sense she started to see things a bit clearer. Our additional troops that came to clear the checkpoint, she looked after.
"Baby," a deep, harsh voice, though far away, tickled the back of my ears.
Captain Finer got down the bridge in seconds, running across the clearing, making his way to me. I tried to meet him in the middle, though the graze on my thigh was much deeper than I thought. No wonder I was limping. I couldn't move it. A portion of the muscle was severed. Anymore sudden movements and my thigh would have just split apart completely.
I fell to my knees, shivering, yearning for his touch. He fell as well, swimming through a shallow sea of dead leaves for a brief moment before interlocking his fingers with mine. He pulled me close, grabbed me by my shoulders, and apologized. He said it was foolish of him leaving me like that. But he didn't have to do any of that. The way he ran for me, across the volley fires with tears, snot, and spit running down his haggard face—he knew he made a mistake, and that was all I needed from him. When he held my chin to examine the marks on my face, my entire body gave out.
"Lisa…? Lisa, look at me."
#149 English Street.
Mint lights seeped through my eyelids and the faint buzz of a ventilation system shook the room I was in. I could only partially see and hear. Couldn't touch, couldn't feel. The bed I was laid upon felt like a coffin, and the way the shadows of flies and mosquitoes casted over the entire room made it appear as if bats were flying all around me. I thought I was being punished for the mortal sins I had committed, and just like contemplating death back at Tellers Tower, I wondered if my time was up. It always seemed "borrowed" during my stay at the buffer zone.
"I'm sorry, Yuki. I don't have it in me—"
"You… Ugh, you never do."
I woke up to Lieutenant Miller's quarrels with the O-Peck secretary. Ms. Matsumoto had enough of his sour tone. She started throwing things. She threw bottles, medical scissors, rolls of gauze, anything she could, but the lieutenant didn't do a thing about it. He even cheered her on, telling her to run outside and jump off the Washington Bridge or present herself to Eyes and Ears. That was uncalled for.
"Why do you do this to me?!" Ms. Matsumoto had reached her limit, and Lieutenant Miller was trying to get her past that. "What do you want from this? What do you want me to say? Good riddance? I pray you go to hell?"
"I think it's healthy you get shit off your chest is all I'm saying—"
"What part of 'I'm over it' do you not understand?"
The lieutenant sat up straight, nursing the wound on his shoulder. "I harmed you. You're okay with that? You're okay with living with a monster—"
"You're not a monster—"
"You know what you are, Yuki? You're like that kitty cat that people leave in boxes. The ones with no place to go. Or those young gals that drool over douchebags, saying: 'I can change him, I can change him.' There are things that you hold onto that you can't seem to let go. The only solution is to let go. Let all that shit slide and move the fuck on—"
"I have moved on," Ms. Matsumoto wasn't afraid of him. "You screamed at me, hit me, smacked me. I. Have. Moved. On." She asked him, "Why can't you?"
Nothing. The lieutenant said nothing.
"Tell me, Trevor… What are you so afraid of?"
The nature of those two gave me flashbacks. It's like I was watching Tommy and I fight through a screen. Eerily similar it was. Ms. Matsumoto couldn't get an answer from him so she just left. Once she slammed the door behind her, Lieutenant Miller plopped back down and regained his breath. The mere act of sitting upright took a lot out of him.
"Fuck," he exclaimed. "Fuck you." I could only assume that he was cursing at his spouse even though she was no longer in the room with us. I mean, he could have been cursing at me, too. Apparently, our issue was still on-going. "Tell Pope you never should've written to O-Peck in the first place. Tell her that was a mistake—"
"The mistake was designating the rest of our forces down in Edgewater—"
"Nope." He wagged his head, "Yuki didn't need to be here."
"It sounds like she has important business."
"And what was the first thing that happened to her since she got here? Huh?" He sat up again, more aggressively than the first time. "Tell me, what was the first thing? You know, I did all I could to keep that woman safe from harm. Teaneck was the perfect place for her. Not too close, not too far. I… I won. In that sense, I won. All I wanted was to keep her safe, and I couldn't do that whenever she was in reach. So, tell me, after all I did, the things I had to give up, the time I needed to waste, the people I needed to push away, cut ties with, tell me, what the fuck was the first goddamn thing that happened to her?!"
"She's her own human—"
"And she's my responsibility as much as I am hers!" I broke him a bit. "You're killing her, you know that? I don't give a flying fuck about what she's here for or what she desires to obtain from Hexagon territory. She's not built for this environment, and quite frankly, she's not built to be around me."
"Why do you keep saying that—"
"Because I just destroy everything! Because people think I'm a liability. Because I get a little too hot and bothered if someone looks my way. Because I hate that stupid face you got on your face. Because I hate the regiment, Congress. And we went over this many times, I hate those fucking cheese-eaters with a passion. You know, if you never kept an eye on that damn trusty, she'd probably be dead by now. I would've slit that whore's throat!"
"I'm not asking about the trusty. I'm asking about Ms. Matsumoto—"
"Well, it's none of your business."
"I'm sorry, but it seems like it now." I got up from my bed and limped to the window. There, I saw Ms. Matsumoto sitting on a bench, facing away from us, wiping her eyes, presumably weeping. I tried to warn the lieutenant. I told him, "Tommy and I never got back together. Ever since he volunteered, there was no letter, no telephone call, no nothing. There was one letter for formality, and then nothing after. It's like he died long before he actually did. And when he did die, a part of me died with him. All the hurt, all the mystery—that's on me. Because I didn't write any letter. I didn't make any telephone calls. I was wrong, and I'm not ashamed to tell you that was the biggest mistake of my life."
"Yeah? Well, we talk… We talk, and I'm not Tommy."
"You can pretend to be stone-cold all you want, but if you lose the chance to find a compromise, it'll absolutely destroy you. I'm sure of it." I tried to limp back to my bed, though my leg refused to cooperate. Instead, I turned to my side and rested my arm on the windowsill. "You're right. You're not Tommy and she's not me, but if you continue to treat her the way you do, you're gonna need more than a flask and a smoke to keep yourself occupied. Look, I know what you're trying to do by keeping her at bay. I admire that. But with that said, the reason why she's A-okay, the reason why you can still quarrel with her is because I took a chance. You kept her safe. I kept her alive. It took every bone in my body to make sure that she got to see you again."
"I just don't want to escalate things… It's hard as it is."
"Take a gamble," I told him. "Talk to her."
Beep.
It was the captain. He checked in on the lieutenant. "Miller, I need you on standby. We've got evac jeeps coming in to fetch the injured."
"Negative," he replied. "I'll be up and running."
"Negative. You're in no condition."
"Watch me." Lieutenant Miller, bare-chested with a bandage going under and over his shirt, slowly rolled out of bed, protecting his fragile shoulder. He retrieved his lupara from the bedside table and his rifle by the door, buttoning his shirt and looking at the O-Peck secretary through the window in the same way he used to look west. When he opened the door, he told me, "You have no idea how thankful—grateful—I am for you."
That was the kindest thing he told me. I simply nodded. Both of us were still a little frustrated with each other.
"Thank you, Lisa…"
Oct. 11, 1992
Our men advanced on the Washington Bridge using enemy artillery, eradicated the checkpoint along Hudson Drive, and cleared a path for O-peck and the DMZ team to travel through in case things won't go as planned. Needless to say, Eyes and Ears had been subdued. Captain Finer reported that Anais successfully identified two HTM instructors, Ford and Iscariot, who were escorted out of the AO by henchmen. Major Legrand, we studied her voice, her face, but she was nowhere to be found. The enemy reconnaissance team retreated after the Anais immobilized two of their pupils by shooting them in the hands and knees. As for the third, no one knows where he went. Further east, we're assuming.
This thing is far from over, I'm afraid. Despite our best efforts, Edgewater still seems to be in the Hexagon's grasp. For now, we'll be camping along English Street, in my case, recuperating. General Vergs said no trips further south while he isn't here yet. It sounds like he has something in mind.
Later that night, Captain Finer paid me a visit. He came into the room with a wet rag over his nape and smelled like grass and sea breeze. A bundle of wilted flowers was placed on the nightstand, splinted by a thin twig and tied together by straw. I couldn't help but smile. I didn't expect that from him.
"You're too sweet."
"Actually, it's from Lieutenant Miller."
"Lieutenant Miller?"
"Ms. Matsumoto informed him about what had happened at Tellers Tower. He wanted to come in and thank you a second time, but… Well, he and the secretary are still working things out. They have been, and the entire time, it's been pleasantries followed by questions leading to answers, to insults. Hey, they're communicating at least."
I grabbed the bundle of flowers and held it close to my chest. It was the sweetest get-well-soon gift I had received that evening. Earlier, Anais came in and fed me supper which the CS whipped up just for me. St. Vier came in as well, requesting to be interviewed. She knew I wanted to have that conversation. "Labourd". She said that's where she lived. Captain Finer—he didn't get me anything.
"Lisa…" After that incident, he never called me by my surname ever again. "Lisa, I'm sorry for what I got you into."
"Don't be—"
"I should be." He knelt beside me and held my hands. Dearly, he did. It wasn't to thaw me from the cold. It meant more than that. I felt that grasp throughout my body. Under my skin and through my veins. He cared about me. "I didn't know—"
"I forgive you."
"You do? Just like that?"
I placed aside the flowers and completed my grasp on his rough, dry hands. "Mhm," I nodded my head. "I know you. You'd never do anything to hurt me let alone come up with some plan that'll get me in danger. You're not like that."
He stuttered, "Surely, the thought shouldn't be the only thing that counts in this scenario. Thoughts can only get you so far."
"I forgive you," I repeated myself. "I don't know how, I don't know why. Frankly, I don't care to know, but I do." I panicked for a second, not knowing what kind of signals I was throwing his way. I didn't want him to think that I was some broken, helpless broad, or a person with some doggish fantasies. I'm well aware that what I said was sweet and nowhere near "doggish", but the captain was in a different headspace. He wasn't there for small talk. He was there because he was concerned for me. I shouldn't have been so loose about the whole conversation. I almost wanted it to end then and there.
Seeing that I was okay, Captain Finer pulled his hands away from mine and backed up. "I'm glad you forgive me. I just wanted to let you know that I got blind-sided with that enemy patrol." After a brief pause, he glanced at the pendant on my chest and said, "I didn't want you to have to do all that. That's on me."
"I understand."
He turned away from me, but I couldn't seem to let him leave.
"Noble…"
"Yes?"
The Pali' captain was a silent man. A strong man. The kind that kings would have wanted as a loyal guard. He was the knight in shining armor that little girls dreamed of when they went to sleep. I never knew anyone else like that.
Except for Tommy.
"I'm scared," I answered.
"I know. I'm scared too, but I'm trying. I really am."
"Can you stay with me?" I asked him. "Just for tonight?"
With a labored breath, Captain Finer told me, "Yes, I can."
The Pali' captain went to grab a chair, but I told him he could sit in the corner of my bed. He felt weird about it. I did, too. After a brief moment of silence, Captain Finer nodded his head and asked me to scoot over, though I already did. He wanted more space, I guess. I sat up from the bed and rested my head on his shoulder.
"You know," I broke the silence, "if I was as strong as you, maybe you wouldn't be having such a hard time. I'll be better. I promise."
"Frankly, I think you're the strongest of us all. There are a lot of things you've witnessed that most of us couldn't even stomach. You proved to me that you don't need my protection—"
"And I still want it," I interrupted him.
"Good… I still want to."
There was no other man quite like him. I'd speak and he'd listen. He'd speak and I'd listen. People like him made me feel like I meant something to someone. He made me feel alive. He made me want to take a chance and just… do things. Live a little.
Captain Finer said to me, "I… care… about you."
"I care about you, too."