For Love or Country

by Jesse Jordan

  “Ivan, we don't have to tell them everything. Besides, I’ve gotten to know Anne, she’s pretty cool,” I remind him as I pull up in front of the Gardners' house. It's a nice home, a two story Colonial that has a nice little yard in the front, and what looks like a good amount of back yard behind it. “Anne's nice, and I'm sure Vince is too.”

  “Yes, right before he tries to break his Ranger school trained foot off in my ass,” Ivan groans. “I would prefer not to have to use my training.”

  “Then we keep it simple,” I reassure him. “Come on, I'm sure they're waiting.”

  Ivan has a bottle of wine in his hands, holding it like a shield while I ring the bell. There's a stampede of feet, and the door is opened to show a little girl of about six years old, her hair in pigtails and her eyes going wide when she sees Ivan. “You're big!”

  “Thank you,” Ivan replies. “You're short.”

  The little girl, obviously Tina, giggles and shakes her head. “No, I'm just little. Hold on. Mom! Dad!”

  Tina runs down the hall, and I hear more in the back. A black haired man comes out, a smile on his face. “Hi. Vince Gardner. You must be Christina?”

  We shake hands, and I grin, he's relaxed. “Yes and no. Vince, this is my fiancée, Ivan. Before we go any further, maybe we should sit down and talk. I feel like I've been lying to your wife for the past month, and I'd like to correct that.”

  Vince's eyebrow lifts, but he waves us towards the back, gathering Anne from the kitchen while a boy just a little shorter than Vince helps out. “Hunter, can you keep your sisters under control for a little bit? Five minutes?”

  “Sure Dad,” Hunter says, giving a slight double take when he sees Ivan. “Wow, Tina was right.”

  We go out to the back porch, a pretty hand built and stained deck that has a Webber grill in the corner, a warm fire already built inside with fragrant real mesquite smelling smoke wafting from the holes. Anne and Vince give us both looks, and Anne breaks the ice. “I suppose this has something to do with you kicking Lomarco's ass yesterday? No airheaded Spec-four is going to take down an Infantryman like Lomarco.”

  “I'm not a Specialist,” I reply, fishing in my pocket and setting my class ring on the table. “Go Ironside.”

  Vince picks up the ring and gives it a once over, humming as his mind makes a connection. “Christina... and Ivan. You wouldn't happen to be a boxer, are you Ivan?”

  Ivan nods once, relaxing a little. “I was. And you busted your eyebrow open to the bone as a Yearling.”

  Anne gawks, then laughs. “Is Locker still telling that story? Vince can't have been the only person to have gotten hurt like that before. So what are you anyway, Christina? And you, Ivan?”

  “We work for... well, you could say the IG, although that's not quite right,” I reply. “But I thought we could set the uniform aside, honestly. Vince, you've got a remarkable wife, you know that?”

  It's the right way to finish breaking the ice, and Ivan's gift of wine helps too. The evening is tremendously fun, and by the end of it even Ivan's able to relax and talk with Vince one on one. I overhear a lot, and Ivan's forthcoming about almost everything about his past. I'll give Vince credit, he doesn't bat an eye, but instead has a long discussion with him about things. I give them privacy and talk with Anne. “I'm amazed, Anne. Three children, and you two look like you're still practically newlyweds.”

  “It's not easy, but a lot of it is because Vince and I work together. Not on the job, I mean that we're a team. It seems you and Ivan are a team too. That's going to be important. Can I ask, your situation, you still have four years on your service commitment?”

  I roll my shoulders. “Kinda. I've got four years, but Ivan's got six on his situation. So I count it as six. What about you guys? How was it, him getting deployed and stuff?”

  “We made it work,” Anne says simply. “There were tough times, but we made it work.”

  The rest of the evening passes well, and as the four of us shake hands at the end of the night, I feel like I've made a friend. “Next time you see Major Locker, tell him... well, tell him we're making it. And sometime, I promise I'll drop you guys a line. We are allowed to have friends, you know.”

  “Then you'll always have friends here,” Vince reassures us both. “Us Ironside, we stick together. Good luck, and have a good marriage. When's the date?”

  “When we can get some leave approved,” Ivan replies, and we all chuckle. “Such is life in the Army.”

  Chapter 24

  Ivan

  “They marked you down in English class?” Simon says as he finishes reading my report. “They're retarded. This reads super clear. ”

  “I knew that already,” I reassure him, but inside I'm pleased. “But thank you for the compliment.”

  “You guys did well,” he continues, closing the cover on my report and setting it aside. “And like you suspected, it was a training mission. Think of it like your final exam. Your training is finished, graduation and celebratory dinner to happen simultaneously over at the local steak house.”

  “I would take you up on that, but I need to make sure my diet is dialed in after a few weeks of eating like a construction worker. Besides, I suspect that our real missions will be a lot more difficult,” I say, leaning back in the chair. Honestly, it is nice to wear better clothes again, the cement and paint stained things I wore on the job discarded. “Unless you normally take missions that could have been handled by normal IG and CID units.”

  “No, we don't. And you're right, you will face a lot more difficult things than this later on. But we wanted to make sure that you could handle an independent mission first. Some of the stuff that you'll end up doing, you might need that,” Simon says. “Which does lead to one question I've got. Why did you hang up on Christina when Lomarco was attacking her?”

  “I had faith in her abilities, but I was five miles away, it would have taken too long to get there even if I'd stolen a car. I didn't have another phone, so I called the MPs,” I reply, recalling the fear that I'd gone through. “Did I make the wrong decision?”

  “You had the incriminating evidence, you had what you needed, and you covered your partner. There's nothing you did that I could have done better. Well, maybe if I had a super-powered motorcycle outside that I could have used, maybe a jetpack. But that's just conjecture,” Simon jokes before turning professional. “In all seriousness though Ivan, you did it perfectly. I won't say by the book, the 52nd doesn't really have a book. But you did it right. So you've earned yourself a little bit of trust. You've got a long way to go though. I'll be honest, some people aren't ever going to one hundred percent trust you.”

  “I'm content with that,” I reply, shrugging. “I had a chance to think about that on the drive back here from Fort Drum. As long as Christina trusts me, I am not concerned about the rest of the world. Although having your trust would be nice. I have come to... to like you and your family. In a different world, we could be friends.”

  Simon grins and nods. “I think the same way. Thankfully the 52nd doesn't operate like normal units, friendships are encouraged. It's the glue that keeps us able to operate, when it's tempered with a nice dose of honor too.”

  “Duty, Honor, Country?” I muse, and Simon nods.

  “I know that it comes off as trite considering what our backgrounds are, but yeah. The thing is, we just have to look at it through a slightly different lens than most people do. Duty and Honor, we have those in a very strict sense, and that's not too hard a stretch. But with Country, that’s a little more difficult than just pledging to a flag.”

  “So what Country do you speak of?”

  “The Country that we all could be. The America that I grew up on in comic books and cartoons, probably pretty damn similar to the Russia that you grew up on. The country that sets the example for the rest of the world to follow, the country that people follow not because it's the most powerful but because it's doing the right fucking thing,” Simon says. “Sadly, that country does
n't exist. Never has. But....”

  “But it could,” I finish, warming in understanding. “If we're good enough.”

  “If we're good enough,” Simon agrees, reaching over and taking a piece of paper from his desk. “Which brings me to the next thing to go over with you. Like I said, you earned yourself a little bit of trust, Ivan. You and Christina both. So... this is your reward. You've got a week of leave, starting tomorrow. You're allowed anywhere in the USA east of the Mississippi River. So... when you get back, I expect Christina Logan to be Christina Vasushenko. Or you can be Ivan Logan, I'm good either way.”

  I take the paper when he hands it out and read it over, grinning. “A week, huh? I suppose that's enough time to get in touch with Karli. She's graduated her classes, and if I remember right, she is at Fort Meade now, I bet she would be appreciate a visit. Speaking of marriage though... your last name is Lancaster.”

  “Yes, and you're wondering why Ashley's is Carlyle?” Simon asks, and I nod. “It's only that way for duty purposes. Her father is the Colonel in charge of the 52nd, and there's a family history there. So on duty, she's still Ashley Carlyle.”

  I nod, and tuck the pass in my jacket pocket. “Okay. Thanks for the leave. I'll see you in a week.”

  As I walk out the door, Simon calls after me. “And bring back wedding pictures!”

  I doubt that the minister has seen many wedding parties of only three people, but he's totally deadpan about it as he goes through his script.

  “Do you, Ivan Vasushenko, take Christina Logan to be your wife?” he asks, his voice tinged in a heavy Russian accent, a gift from Karli. Once she found out that Christina and I were getting married, she somehow dug up a Russian Orthodox minister who was willing to perform the ceremony even though neither of us were members of his congregation. Perhaps I do not pray much, but I'm finding it has great meaning for me. And he's totally Russian too, his accent rumbling from the deepest parts of the Siberian Pacific near Vladivostok.

  I reply, in Russian. The minister is being extra nice for Christina and Karli, who both have at best rudimentary Russian, although Christina's is coming along.

  the minister asks.

  “I do.”

  The minister nods and closes his little book, setting it down on the altar before turning back to us. “I understand that you have your own vows?”

  We nod, and I clear my throat, looking into Christina's beautiful eyes. “I will love you my whole life. I have made so many mistakes in the past, but you have stood by me, always loving me, always being the person who believes in me. I owe you more than my love, I owe you my life. For that, you are my world. This I swear.”

  Christina wipes at her eyes, she's wearing a rented wedding dress that is both simple and elegant, her veil getting in the way at first before she laughs and reaches under. Karli, who is serving in triple duty as maid of honor, witness, and ring bearer, has been openly weeping in happiness even as she takes pictures, wearing her dress blues as it was the only formal outfit she had ready on such short notice that isn't, as she called it, 'fugly.'

  Settled, Christina finds her calm and reaches out, taking my hand. “You saved me as much as I saved you. You showed me happiness, you taught me love. You gave me my dream, and while it's not going to be a fairy tale, you are the man I want and love. You are my whole being. I love you, and will always be yours. This I swear.”

  Our rings are small, plain gold bands but it isn't the metal or the ornateness that means something to me. Instead, it is the look in her eyes when I lift the veil and kiss her, and Karli breaks out into applause, to the point that she has to make us pose again because she forgot to take pictures the first time. After the minister signs his place on the form and hands it to us, Karli hands us the memory card from her camera, grinning. “You guys... thank you.”

  “Thank you for coming,” Christina says, hugging her friend fiercely. “You look good in uniform, you know that?”

  “Yeah well, when it's my turn I'm still going with a dress,” Karli protests. “Hey, did I tell you guys that I maybe met a guy at Meade?”

  “Should I investigate him?” I tease, and Karli laughs. “Or do you need a little brother to have your back?”

  “No way in the world could anyone think you're my brother. We'll call you my cousin when you come to visit, which I expect to have happen often since we're in the same state,” Karli jokes. “So you two are doing okay, I take it?”

  “We're going to make it. The system is unique, but it lets us stay together, and that's what is most important,” Christina says. “So, you're coming to dinner with us, right?”

  “Of course. Just don't forget to turn that piece of paper in to your bosses, or else you're going to have problems later on,” she says, stopping twice when she gets the urge to curse. “I really have to let loose a string of four letter words as soon as I get out of here. Can't do it in a church though.”

  It's nearly ten thirty before Christina and I get back to the hotel, a nice place that we rented for two nights in Chesapeake Beach. In a surge of silliness, I sweep Christina off her feet and carry her into our hotel room once I have the door open, grinning. “Mrs. Vasushenko.”

  “I'm glad I don't have to worry about that whole Russian feminine or masculine naming thing with Vasushenko,” Christina jokes as I lay her down on the wide, comfortable bed. “I'd have had to stay Logan then.”

  “Well then,” I reply, leaning down and kissing her, our words cut off as we explore the sensuous realm of foreplay. When our lips part, both of our hearts are beating a little faster, and I can feel my cock hard and ready in my pants, making me glad I already changed out of my rented tuxedo. In a final little gift, Karli promised to take it and Christina's dress back to the shop on her way back home. But for now, my mind is focused on my wife next to me in the bed. “I am quite glad that I do not have to be Mr. Logan then.”

  Christina smiles, stroking my face while we just look into each other's eyes. “Ivan?”

  “Yes, my love?”

  “You did save my life. You showed me that I am more than what the detractors said about me. You let me feel beautiful for the first time in my life,” she whispers, and I kiss her again. Our tongues wrap around and twist, the kiss deepening as I cup her breast through her blouse, nibbling on the soft skin of her neck. “Ivan....”

  “My angel,” I counter, kissing her more deeply. “My perfect, perfect angel.”

  “Make love with me,” Christina whispers, and we proceed to do just that. It's not just making love that one time, it's two days of bliss at the hotel. We spend the whole time either making love, sleeping, or enjoying the beach, which isn't very warm yet but is nice for walking and just relaxing. Still, the two days can't last forever, and it is with a little bit of regret that we return to our house. Not that it matters to us, it just changes the location of our lovemaking. We also spend a little bit of time personalizing the house, replacing some of the serviceable but plain items that the house came furnished with with something more our style.

  “I like it,” Christina finally says when we finish arranging the new sofa. “It's long, it's comfy, and I think it goes better with the paint than the old one. Where do you think they found that thing anyway?”

  “Probably the same thrift store that is picking it up in an hour,” I muse, laying down and stretching out. “Hmmm, you are correct, this is quite nice for laying down. In fact, I may just use this instead of the bed, it feels comfortable enough. What do you say?”

  Christina swings her leg over and straddles my hips, wiggling seductively back and forth before laying her head on my chest. “I like it. Better with no clothes on though. Hey, babe?”

  “Yes?” I ask, running my hands under Christina's t-shirt and stroking my fingers up and down the soft, wonderful skin of her back. She sighs happily, wiggling her hips again, and I wonder if it is possible to set a record for lovemaking in one week, we seem to neve
r be able to keep our hands or our bodies off of each other. “What is it?”

  “I don't want to go to work in the morning,” she complains, laughing. “I just want to stay here and make love for the next few years.”

  I kiss the top of her head and laugh. “You know, I'm pretty sure that our bosses will understand that. However, I'm also quite sure that they will want us to show up tomorrow.”

  Epilogue

  Ivan

  It takes Christina and I a few days to get back into the office routine. While Ashley or Simon both make sure that one of them comes by at least part of the day, we are often on our own, doing tasks that leaves us both working independently or reviewing each other's work with nobody else in the building. It is a challenge to be professional that way, but at the same time we are given enough work that we don't 'break in' our office desks in a fit of passion. Not that I'm not tempted to.

  For the first month, our work is analysis, going over emails and digital records searching for something, although I'm not sure what. It's certainly based in the Pacific though, some of the digital signatures I'm seeing come from Japan, some from South Korea, and a few even from Guam. We're tracking something or someone down, that much I know. Still, it's a slow process, and so far I'm still not sure what it is exactly I'm tracking. One morning, Christina says that she's not feeling well and goes to the doctor, leaving me alone in the office with Ashley, who's reviewing my work. “Ashley?”

  “Hmmm?” she asks, looking up from her laptop. “What's up, Ivan?”

  I lean back and yawn, drinking another gulp of black coffee. I'll give this much to Ashley and the 52nd, they might have me working in a fifty year old Quonset hut, but they've gotten us a damn fine coffee maker. “I need some field work. I know that a lot of this work is supposed to be behind the curtain, but this staring at a computer all the time is giving me headaches. How did you get used to it?”