Nelson DeMille - Up country

B ad things come in threes.

The first bad thing was a voice mail from Cynthia Sunhill, my former partner in the armys Criminal Investigation Division. Cynthia is still with the CID, and she is also my significant other, though we were having some difficulties with that job description.

The message said, Paul, I need to talk to you. Call me tonight, no matter how late. I just got called on a case, and I have to leave tomorrow morning. We need to talk.

Okay. I looked at the mantel clock in my small den. It was just 10 P.M. , or twenty-two hundred hours, as I used to say when I was in the army not so long ago.

I live in a stone farmhouse outside Falls Church, Virginia, less than a half-hour drive to CID Headquarters. The commute time is actually irrelevant because I dont work for the CID any longer. In fact, I dont work for anyone. Im retired, or maybe fired.

In any case, it had been about six months since my separation from the army, and I was getting bored, and I had twenty or thirty years to go.

As for Ms. Sunhill, she was stationed at Fort Benning, Georgia, about a fourteen-hour drive from Falls Church, or twelve if Im very excited. Her caseload is heavy, and weekends in the army are often normal duty days. The last six months had not been easy on our relatively new relationship, and with her interesting career and my growing addiction to afternoon talk shows, we dont have a lot to talk about.

Anyway, bad thing number two. I checked my e-mail, and there was a message that said simply, 1600 hrs, tomorrow, the Wall. It was signed, K.

K is Colonel Karl Hellmann, my former boss at Headquarters, and Cynthias present commanding officer. That much was clear. What wasnt clear was why Hellmann wanted to meet me at the Vietnam War Memorial. But instinctively, I put this under the category of bad things.

I considered several equally terse replies, none of them very positive. Of course, I didnt have to respond at all; I was retired. But, in contrast to civilian careers, a military career does not completely end. The expression is, Once an officer, always an officer. And I had been a warrant officer by rank, and a criminal investigator by occupation.

Fact is, they still have some kind of legal hold on you, though Im not really sure what it is. If nothing else, they can screw up your PX privileges for a year.

I stared at Karls message again and noticed it was addressed to Mr. Brenner. Warrant officers are addressed as Mister, so this salutation was a reminder of my pastor perhaps presentarmy rank, not a celebration of my civilian status. Karl is not subtle. I held off on my reply.

And, last but not least, the third bad thing. Id apparently forgotten to send in my response to my book club, and in my mail was a Danielle Steel novel. Should I return it? Or give it to my mother next Christmas? Maybe she had a birthday coming up.

Okay, I couldnt postpone the Cynthia call any longer, so I sat at my desk and dialed. I looked out the window as the phone rang at the other end. It was a cold January night in northern Virginia, and a light snow was falling.

Cynthia answered, Hello.

Hi, I said.

A half-second of silence, then, Hi, Paul. How are you?

We were off on the wrong foot already, so I said, Lets cut to the chase, Cynthia.

She hesitated, then said, Well... Can I first ask you how your day was?

I had a great day. An old mess sergeant gave me his recipe for chiliI didnt realize it fed two hundred, and I made it all. I froze it in Ziploc bags. Ill send you some. Then I went to the gym, played a basketball game against a wheelchair teambeat them big timethen off to the local tavern for beer and hamburgers with the boys. How about your day?

Well... I just wrapped up the rape case I told you about. But insteadof time off, I have to go to Fort Rucker for a sexual harassment investigation, which looks tricky. Ill be there until its concluded. Maybe a few weeks. Ill be in Bachelor Officers Quarters if you want to call me.

I didnt reply.

She said, Hey, I still think about Christmas.

Me, too. That was a month ago, and I hadnt seen her since. Hows Easter look?

You know, Paul... you could move here.

But you could be reassigned anytime. Then Id wind up following your career moves. Didnt we discuss this?

Yes, but...

I like it here. You could get stationed here.

Is that an offer?

Whoops. I replied, It would be good for your career. Headquarters.

Let me worry about my career. And I really dont want a staff job. Im an investigator. Just like you were. I want to go where I can be useful.

I said, Well, I cant be following you around like a puppy dog, or hanging around your apartment when youre away on assignment. Its not good for my ego.

You could get a job here in law enforcement.

Im working on that. Here in Virginia.

And so on. Its tough when the guys not working and the woman has a traveling career. To make matters worse, the army likes to change your permanent duty station as soon as youre comfortable, which calls into question the armys definition of permanent. On top of that, there are a lot of temporary duty assignments these daysplaces like Bosnia, Somalia, South Americawhere you could be gone for up to a year, which pushes the definition of temporary. Bottom line, Cynthia and I were whats called these days GUgeographically unsuitable.

The military, as Ive always said, is tough on relationships; its not a job, its a calling, a commitment that makes other commitments really difficult. Sometimes impossible.

Are you there? she asked.

Im here.

We cant go on like this, Paul. It hurts.

I know.

What should we do?

I think she was willing to resign and forfeit a lot of her pension, in exchange for the M word. Then wed decide where to live, find jobs, and live happily ever after. And why not? We were in love.

Paul?

Yeah... Im thinking.

You should have already thought about all of this.

Right. Look, I think we should talk about this in person. Face-to-face.

The only thing we do face-to-face is fuck.

Thats not... well, well talk over dinner. In a restaurant.

Okay. Ill call you when I get back from Rucker. Ill come there, or you come here.

Okay. Hey, hows your divorce coming?

Its almost final.