“The kid had just been shot in the face the day before,” Rutledge added.
“And another Marine from his unit had been blown up by a… ah… possum player,” Rasheed added. “You Americans allow yourselves to be forced to play the enemy’s game.”
“We Americans, Kay.” Reskova put a hand on Rasheed’s shoulder. “We both know Cold won’t play the game.”
“That is true, Boss. On the other hand, with this bad press the young soldier is getting for simply killing the enemy he was sent to kill, the Cold Mountain had better keep a very low profile.”
“The fighting is brutal. Kay was just showing me how well the Colonel knows the roughest part of the city where they’re doing the mop up operations. We were wondering if they’d be sending Cold to one of the other cities where violence is breaking out.”
“He knows Mosul and Ramadi also,” Rasheed explained. “Our small militia he trained worked in both of those cities too.”
“I thought this was supposed to be a one shot deal.” Rutledge stood up and stretched. “The Colonel helps in the Fallujah battle and then rejoins the team. Hell, the outrage his part in the Mercado operation was supposed to cause never materialized. I listened to some of the local lefty radio shows trying to pump up support for a full investigation. Even their listeners were pro-Cold Mountain. The school angle really has people thinking we need to get a hell of a lot more vicious.”
“He’ll stay,” Reskova replied.
“The Boss is right. My friend does not see his duty in the same manner as other men.”
“Even a professional like the Colonel has to get sick of the constant battle stress,” Barrington said.
“The Cold Mountain told us in Iraq a story about one of your old time football players named… ah… But… Butkis. This player was a linebacker or something for the Chicago Bears and he was interviewed by a magazine. This Butkis told his interviewer he had a dream he hit another player so hard the other player’s head popped off and rolled down the field. When the interviewer asked the fellow if he was ever afraid on the football field, this Butkis asked in reply: ‘afraid of what?’ My comrades and I enjoyed the story very much. The Cold Mountain thinks of combat in the same way.”
“Meaning he’s never afraid?” Rutledge asked.
“I do not know. If he was, I could not tell. The rest of us were afraid all the time. He told us it was normal to be afraid. When I asked him if he was ever afraid, he smiled and said ‘of course.’ I did not believe him, nor did my comrades.”
“He needs to come home and let Diane show him the other side of…” Rutledge began but then streaked for the door with Reskova in hot pursuit.
Reskova halted suddenly at the doorway, realizing how childish her reaction was. She turned around and returned to Rasheed’s workstation. She gathered up the folders she had there. “Do you two have anything to add?”
“Not me, Boss,” Rasheed assured her quickly, glancing over at Barrington, who was studiously studying his monitor with a hand clamped over his mouth. “Agent Rutledge is acting inappropriately and should be punished. May I have her desk?”
Reskova laughed, the anger receding for a moment at Rasheed’s comment. Rutledge peeked back in the door.
“Hey, what’s so funny?”
“You’re lucky you’re as good as you are at this job.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Rutledge replied smugly, walking back to her station and sitting down.
“If Cold ever does get back, I’m going to pay him to take you on a field trip.”
“Not funny!” Rutledge elbowed Barrington, who had laughed at the look of fear which appeared on his partner’s face. “Don’t even joke about that when the Colonel returns. He might think you’re serious.”
“I’m deadly serious. If he and I are as close as you keep implying we are, I bet you might wake up somewhere special after he gets back.”
“I’m armed and dangerous.”
“Armed and dangerous stuff worked out real well for the Mercados when they went to sleep,” Barrington reminded her.
“You stay out of this. C’mon, Diane, you can admit it. Don’t be so damned uptight. If we’d have wanted to nail you two we could have bugged the house, right guys?”
“Not and lived,” Reskova replied stiffly.
“Ah, so you admit it.” Rutledge pointed happily at Reskova, who blushed as she realized she had been tripped up.
“I…I meant…” Reskova groped for words as the three other agents looked at her with amused speculation.
“Too late, Diane. Okay, out with it. I want details. Oh wait, never mind, we’ll talk when it’s just us girls around.”
“Get to work, Rutledge, and start practicing your woodcraft,” Reskova ordered over her shoulder as she headed toward her office.
“She’s just kidding,” Rutledge stated confidently.
“Girl, you need to follow your own advice about learning to keep your mouth shut,” Barrington said. “I know a website where you can download directions on how to read a compass.”
“May I have your desk,” Rasheed asked again.
* * *
Nearly a month later, Thanksgiving came, with Rasheed inviting his coworkers over for his family’s first ever holiday dinner. Little Cold, the newest addition to Rasheed’s family, crawled and slobbered over everyone, in the midst of teething. Suraya, Rasheed’s fourteen-year old daughter followed the baby’s quick movements on the floor with the utmost concern, while the others sat in the large living room sipping sparkling cider.
“My husband has told me the Cold Mountain is now in Mosul,” Ansa, Rasheed’s wife commented. “We worry about him.”
“He will return,” Suraya said, looking up from where she had turned the baby in a direction away from the coffee table he had been heading under. “He must see the little Cold. Agent Reskova, you should have brought Dino with you.”
“Call me Diane, Suraya. I would have brought him but Dino isn’t quite as tame as you might think. He could react badly to the baby. I didn’t want him getting into trouble. Besides, I took him for a long run this morning. The big baby curled up on his mat like I had taken him out in a blizzard.”
“Perhaps my Father can bring me over to your house to see him,” Suraya suggested. “I would very much like to see the Cold Mountain’s dog.”
“I think he’s more Diane’s dog now,” Rutledge said. “You and your Mom have sure adopted the Colonel’s new nickname easily.”
“Yes, it is a delight,” Ansa replied with a smile. “We always called him Colonel, even though he tried many times to have us call him by his first name: Jeremiah. This nickname, as you call it, fits him so well. We will never call him anything else. I wish he could have been here with us.”
“We’ve tried writing him,” Barrington put in, “but whether he gets them or not, we don’t know. If he wanted to stay in touch he could be E-mailing us all the time. I’ll bet he has a satellite phone too.”
“It is not to worry about,” Rasheed replied. “Many times, when our group was out of touch for long periods, Cold would lose all track of time. He has what you call tunnel vision.”
“Kay told us how Cold met up with all of you,” Rutledge said to Ansa.
A shadow passed across Ansa’s face as she nodded her acknowledgement. “Yes, it was a very dark time. I am happy we are in America.”
“Did my Father tell you how the Cold Mountain rescued my friends and I?” Suraya asked. “He…”
“Yes, I told them all about it, little one,” Rasheed interrupted.
Suraya smiled at her Father. She wiped the baby’s mouth and nose expertly, before letting him continue crawling amongst his toys. “My Father does not like me to talk about the time I was held, but I do not mind. It was very exciting when the Cold Mountain came. We were all held in two tiny cells. It was very bad. We heard screaming and many weapons being fired. My friends and I huddled together on the dirt floor of the cell. Soon, all was silent. A huge shadow
suddenly appeared by our cells, smiling at us, and telling us all would be well. It was the Cold Mountain. He snapped the cell doors open with his bare hands and hurried us out through the smoky building to where my Father waited. There were many bodies. I will always remember.”
“Your English is very good, Suraya,” Reskova complimented the girl after a short awkward silence. “How has school been going for you?”
“I am doing very well. I also love working at our store. My school is within walking distance. It is so much more exciting here in America. Now, with little Cold, we are very blessed. I wish to grow up and be an agent like you and Agent Rutledge.”
The gasp of surprise from Ansa, followed by Rasheed’s laughter, lightened the moment considerably after Suraya’s story.
“My daughter has embraced the new freedoms here perhaps more quickly than Ansa would like. After all the excitement with the American elections this month, Suraya knows because little Cold was born in this country it is possible for him to grow up and become President.”
“Yes,” Suraya agreed excitedly. “I will be his campaign manager.”
Everyone laughed, including the reluctant Ansa.
With little Cold still in his highchair, and Suraya trying to feed him while he played with his Thanksgiving Day dessert, everyone else sat around the Rasheed table sipping hot tea. Their conversation drifted from the baby’s official adoption papers which were getting pushed by even the Homeland Security director, to accelerated citizenship for the Rasheed family. The phone rang suddenly. Rasheed answered it in the entranceway. He literally ran back into the dining room, his face a contortion of emotions, joy being the most prevalent.
“It is AD Dreyer. The Cold Mountain is flying in today from Iraq with many of the returning troops from overseas. Dreyer wants to speak to you, Boss.”
Reskova left the table. She picked up the phone, her hand shaking slightly.
“Reskova here.”
“The Colonel will be landing by SAM FOX flight with other wounded and returning troops in about an hour and a half,” Dreyer said simply. “The flight was supposed to be in earlier but was held up by weather. I called your cell phone and got your message you would be at this number. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Semper Fi, Sir. Is he wounded?”
Dreyer chuckled in appreciation before answering. “It may be a possibility, but he’s not listed amongst the stretcher cases. You and your team have done a hell of a job with the Mercado cell, Reskova. I left word at the base providing clearance for you to pick up the Colonel.”
“Thank you, Sir, we’ll be there,” Reskova replied before Dreyer said goodbye and ended the call.
Reskova walked into a room full of quiet, expectant faces. Even little Cold smiled attentively at her. “He’ll be arriving at Andrews on a SAM FOX flight in about an hour and a half. Dreyer doesn’t know if he’s wounded or not but he’s not listed as ambulatory.”
“What is this SAM FOX thing?” Rasheed asked quickly, standing up from the table with Barrington and Rutledge.
“Oh, sorry, Kay. It’s a VIP flight designation standing for Special Air Mission Foreign. I imagine the wounded being transported from Germany will be going into Walter Reed Army Hospital and the Naval facility at Bethesda.”
Rasheed gestured for Ansa and his daughter to stay where they were. “I will bring the Cold Mountain back with me. You two remain here with the little Cold.”
“We will wait up,” Ansa said happily.
Rasheed followed the three FBI agents out to the foyer where they quickly put on their coats, hats and gloves. “Come, we will take my SUV so Cold will have plenty of room.”
“Sounds good, Kay,” Reskova said. “Dreyer told me he called ahead to the base, so all we’ll need are our ID’s.”
When they were on the way to Andrews in Rasheed’s vehicle Rutledge spoke up.
“I’ll take Cold home to his apartment later.”
Even Reskova laughed. “Over my dead body, you little bitch,” she said in Russian.
“What was that you said, Diane?” Rutledge asked.
“I said thank you, how thoughtful of you.”
Barrington laughed. “I’ll bet you did.”
“Yes, I know a little Russian,” Rasheed added, glancing back at Reskova. “I do not believe the Boss…”
“Never mind, Kay, just drive,” Reskova cut him off.
Chapter 18
Homecoming Visit
They spotted McDaniels right away from outside the cordon set up between people waiting to greet the veterans and the tarmac where the Special Air Mission flight landed. Ambulances and emergency vehicles were waiting to transport the stretcher cases to Walter Reed Army Hospital and Bethesda Naval Medical facility. McDaniels stood in full dress uniform amidst marines and army troops, some who were obviously walking wounded. McDaniels saluted and shook hands with the young men, speaking privately with each one. The returning troops waited with the stretcher bound wounded while their comrades were loaded into the waiting vehicles.
“God, the Colonel sure looks good,” Rutledge whispered.
Rasheed, who had absorbed a number of angry looks from the waiting crowd of well-wishers, tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. Tears streamed down Reskova’s cheeks. Rasheed offered her a handkerchief which she took from him gratefully. Barrington had positioned Rutledge on the opposite side of Rasheed while he took up a position directly behind the three. Barrington also noticed the looks Rasheed was getting.
“Maybe we should have left you in the SUV, Kay,” Barrington said uneasily.
“I will be fine,” Rasheed said over his shoulder to Barrington. “In my country, I would be in real danger as an outsider amongst such a group waiting in opposite circumstances. Their young soldiers have been injured to free my homeland. I can endure their anger. You are right, Jen, the Cold Mountain is looking very well. I have never seen him with his Green Beret and military uniform. I will not allow him to return to my house, where Ansa will surely throw herself at him.”
Barrington, Rutledge, and even the teary-eyed Reskova laughed in muffled appreciation of Rasheed’s humor.
The anxious friends and family waiting for their loved ones spoke in hushed tones, waving small American flags. After the last emergency vehicle left the tarmac the returning veterans walked toward the waiting throng where cheers and applause went up from the crowd. Recognition was followed joyously by shouted names and waving hands. McDaniels walked at the rear of the contingent. Many of the young marines and soldiers glanced back toward him as if they did not want to lose sight of the big man. When the air base security detail opened up the restraining cordon, the crowd engulfed the returning heroes.
Not wanting to impede the family members, Reskova indicated she wanted her team to stay back away from the small celebrations. McDaniels was stopped by the surge of the crowd. He smilingly waited, obviously pleased at the sight. He had not noticed the FBI agents still waiting nearly fifty yards away. Many of the veterans were pulling family members toward McDaniels, introducing them to him. Soon, he was in the midst of handshakes and hugs, laughing when babies and young children were thrust into his arms for hellos.
“Jesus,” Barrington commented, a respectful awe in his voice. “It looks like the Colonel made a few friends overseas.”
Reskova turned away, trying to hide the sobs welling up as she realized suddenly how deeply she felt about McDaniels. Rutledge put a comforting arm around her team leader.
“You’re going to have to play a little harder to get than that, Diane,” Rutledge whispered to her, causing Reskova to chuckle uncomfortably and nod her head in agreement.
The crowd broke into small groups as they walked toward the parking area. Two marines stayed next to McDaniels throughout the farewells, along with their immediate families of parents, wives, and kids. As the groups of returning veterans and their families streamed past the FBI agents, McDaniels was finally able to move with them, holding a little dark ha
ired girl of around three years old in his arms. He spotted the FBI agents, surprise evident on his face. The marine to his left noticed and took the little girl from him. Before anyone could stop her, Reskova was running toward McDaniels. A moment later she was in his arms, her face buried in his neck. Rutledge grinned at Barrington and Rasheed.
“So much for hard to get.”
“Disgraceful.” Rasheed laughed in agreement. “It is a complete disregard for discipline.”
“I’m glad Dreyer didn’t come along,” Barrington added.
McDaniels had finally managed to put Reskova down. She clung to his arm while Barrington, Rutledge, and Rasheed joined them. McDaniels shook hands with the three agents while still holding Reskova under one arm. He turned and waved toward Rasheed as he addressed the two marines with him, one of whom walked with a cane.
“Abe, Jed, this is my old friend Kumar Rasheed I told you about. These other folks are my co-workers, Jen Rutledge, Tom Barrington, and my boss Diane Reskova,” McDaniels said, and then indicated each marine separately as he introduced them. “This is Gunnery Sergeant Abel Dominguez, and Staff Sergeant Jed Bocelli.”
The two marines shook hands with the FBI agents and introduced their families. They spent extra time with Rasheed, explaining they had met two of his old unit in Fallujah, and that McDaniels had told them all about him. As the two were being pulled away by their young children, parents, and anxious wives, the two marines stopped as one and snapped to attention, saluting McDaniels formally. He returned their salute stiffly.
“I’ll see you guys soon,” McDaniels told them.
“Count on it, Colonel,” Dominguez said. He turned away with his family, leaning lightly on his cane.
Bocelli just nodded and waved as he walked away amongst his small retinue.
“What did that mean, Cold?” Reskova asked, sudden dread lancing through her heart.
“I have to go back, Boss. It sure was nice of you guys to…”
Monster Page 18
