Even When You Win...

by Dave Balcom

  “I don’t think that’ll happen with Frank,” Richards said. “He’ll just tell them that if one of them beats him, he’ll entertain a bigger bet, but until that happens, their stakes are fine with him. It’s always worked for him before. He’s a nice, friendly shark... people like him.”

  Ed seemed to have recovered, “I think we should all relax and get ready for a night of waiting,” he said. “By tomorrow morning, we should know more than we do now.”

  “I don’t know if I can sleep a wink,” Clara said.

  “Me neither,” Gene Hastings admitted.

  “I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Andy said to the group. “We’re going to leave you now, but there are four agents outside watching this place like a hawk. I think you can rest easy; watch some TV, whatever.”

  With that the two agents left.

  Rita turned on the television, and Ed headed for his office. “I’m having a nightcap if anyone else is interested.”

  Gene, Riley and I followed him. Crawford situated himself on the couch between Clara and Cindy, put his arms around both women and called, “Fools; you can’t cuddle with a bottle of Pinch.”

  I heard Rita raise her voice gently, “What’ll it be? Sports or movies?”

  “Movies!”

  “Roxie, find something in the five hundreds that you all want to see... I’m going to open a bottle of port and a box of chocolates for anyone who wants a more civilized nightcap.”

  Chapter 50

  Dawn came without a visible warning in the corner of the basement where I’d made my bed. There was only the faintest glimmer of light behind the little curtains that shielded the “gun slit” windows.

  My personal alarm clock told me it was time to rise for yet another day without Jan, but I checked my watch to confirm it was just past five. I crawled out of the cot and noted that I’d slept as well as I usually did, without a dream I could remember.

  I got myself dressed for a walk, and got out of the garage without waking anyone. I made sure the door was locked behind me, trusting someone would be up when I came home.

  I stretched against the front steps, taking my time, listening to the early morning sounds. I could barely pick up a semi letting its diesel engine drag slow it down out on the highway amid the bird and insect sounds that make sunrise such a good time for me.

  As I started up the street, heading towards the river road I’d scouted as a walking venue, a man just sort of appeared out of the shrubbery along the side of Ed’s property.

  “Mornin’” he said quietly. I could see his FBI credential on his belt, next to his holster. He was dressed in black jeans, black shoes and a navy blue wind shirt. He had a black baseball cap on his head, bill to the back and a mosquito net was bunched around his neck.

  “Long night?” I asked.

  “You’re Mr. Stanton, right?”

  “I am.”

  “We were told you might make an early morning appearance. Where you headed?”

  “Up the street a bit there’s a gravel road that veers off to the right, and then runs along the river for about two miles down stream to a highway. I’m planning to walk to that highway and back again.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “Probably a couple of hours if I do it right.”

  “That’s a slow walk, isn’t it?”

  “I work out a bit as I go along; it’s complicated.”

  He nodded. “You armed?”

  I pulled my tee shirt up over my waist so he could see that there was no weapon. “I’d have a problem concealing it, wouldn’t I?”

  “Are you sure you want to...”

  “Thank you for your concern, but to be quite honest I’d just love to have some bad ass hillbilly give me a hard time this morning. I’m not a likely candidate for a kidnapping.”

  “I was more worried about an all-out attack.”

  “If somebody wants to shoot me, I guess I don’t have an answer to that.”

  “That’s my point; maybe you should just forego the exercise this morning until we get a better handle on what’s going on here...”

  “Again, thanks for your concern.” I made a move to step around him, but he stepped sideways to block my path. I stepped back. “Really?”

  He seemed to think about it for a minute; then he stepped away with a shrug. “I can’t leave my post so I can’t go with you. I think it’s foolish, but...”

  “I’ll be careful; you keep an eye on those folks in there and I thank you for that.”

  I set off at my usual early pace, and I had just stopped for my first 15-minute routine with the forms of t’ai chi when a Sheriff’s cruiser pulled up.

  I saw it coming, and figured I was about to get some more personal safety advice, but when the car stopped, Sheriff Bill Chance, dressed for a walk, climbed out. “Thanks, Rowdy,” he said to the driver.

  He said nothing to me, just took up his position in the forms, as the car pulled away, careful not to kick up dust.

  “Morning, sir,” I said.

  “Mornin’.”

  We didn’t say another word as we worked our way down the road, jogging for fifteen; forms for fifteen, running faster and then forms, walking and then forms. We were two men silently paying homage to a common practice – t’ai chi chuan – the fundamental foundation for a life of preparation.

  We were walking up the street towards Ed’s house. “You were being readied for your trip into Lebanon; your last assignment. I was the alternate for your team; I stayed home when everyone else was dispatched, but I’d been completely read into the plan; I knew everyone’s part if I were needed,” he said.

  I shook my head, “I just don’t recall; I’m sorry.”

  “Not a problem for me. I was in my first year. It was amazing to watch that team – to be part of that preparation. I never forgot it; I relied on things I learned then for the rest of my career. I believe I came home without a scratch because of what I learned from you and your team.

  “And, of course, a great deal of good fortune,” he added with a chuckle.

  “Good fortune follows those who are ready to embrace it,” I said, quoting an ancient proverb.

  “It’s amazing that you’ve stayed with the forms so long,” he said. “You’re pretty spry for a man your age.”

  I let that go without a comment.

  “You know, I got read in on the way that action went down, and nobody could find fault with your work or anyone else’s work there; it just got bloody because... you know?”

  “I know,” I said, recalling the violence of the final days of my abbreviated military career.

  “I never had an assignment where I was supposed to get in and out without a trace go off the track like that one did for you. Do you think about it often?”

  I stopped and turned to him. “Bill, I don’t think about it at all unless something or somebody gives me reason to. If you think that action going bloody got me out of the business; that’s not true.”

  I started walking again, and he fell into step with me. “I read the reports. They all said you just came to the conclusion you didn’t like the action, no matter how good you were at it.”

  “That’s right. The people I trained with, went into the field with, they all had an anger aimed at the enemy or target that made them fierce; it propelled them and sustained them. I realized I didn’t have that anger. I did what I had to do as an intellectual decision, and intellectually I realized that I would never be good enough, never be driven enough to be a top notch team member. I realized I was putting my team in jeopardy despite my God-given talents. That’s why I got out.

  “I had made that decision before I ever got the Lebanon assignment.”

  We walked around Ed’s house to the porch, and as I had hoped, found Rita sitting there reading. Before she could reach the screen door, Chance put his hand on my arm, “I now understand more than I did; for all these years I’ve wondered just how and why you left us. You left a big hole, and you
were missed more than once. I was proud to have known you then, and I’m just as proud today, sailor.”

  I put my hand on his, “Let’s get my wife and that kid back, okay?”

  He nodded curtly, and then I saw him turn his eyes to Rita, “Good morning, you beautiful woman. How are you today?”

  She put her book down as we walked up, “I’m trying my damnedest to act normal and calm, but I’m so nervous I can’t concentrate; I keep reading the same line over and over.

  “I can’t stand the not knowing.”

  Bill put his sweaty arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “You’re doing fine. These are troubling times, but you’ve got the best help in the world on your side. I’m betting this will be over, hell, maybe even today.”

  But that prediction was a bit optimistic.

  Matt, Liz and baby Edward pulled in just after noon. Ed had a thirty-eight foot motor home delivered earlier in the day, and it was set up in the driveway that went around the side of his garage.

  “I had that pad poured to accommodate my boats and these motor homes during the holidays,” he told me as we watched the delivery driver leveling and opening up the temporary quarters.

  “You think Matt and his family should stay out here?” I asked.

  “I think so; they’ve done it before, and it’ll hold Janine and Sylvia when they arrive, too. It’s completely self-contained once the extension cord and the garden hose are attached.

  “Have you ever traveled in one of those?”

  I hadn’t and said so. “It’s the only way to go on extended trips. I used one once on a fishing trip to the Gulf of Mexico... had a bumper hitch put on the front of it so I could launch and recover my boat; and used it again twice on hunting trips to the Dakotas. They’re just the ticket if you can get by without having to use it to go to town every day.”

  At one, Janine and Sylvia arrived in a car with two FBI agents, and everyone greeted them with obvious relief and care.

  “Mr. Stanton,” Janine said to me, “Peter demanded that I tell you how sad we are about Jan, and to tell you that no matter what, no matter how short your stay, you’ll be in real Dutch with him if you ever visit San Diego again without letting him know...”

  I matched her shy smile with my best toothy grin. “I’ll keep that in mind. I bet he’s miserable being aboard ship while all this is going on.”

  “It’s his last cruise, more than likely, and, yes, he’s not a happy sailor. I know he’d rather be here with the family. I know I’m glad to be here. I felt safe as soon as the car stopped in the driveway.”

  While there was certainly a damper over this reunion, there were still signs of careful and cautious celebration. I watched as the people moved in and out of small groups, obviously comfortable with each other, and just as obviously enjoying the comfort of the company despite the shroud of doubt and fear hanging over them.

  I couldn’t completely tune out my own feeling of loneliness. I was haunted by the knowledge that Jan’s life, and so by extension my life, was completely in some unknown lunatic’s hands.

  I watched the way this family mixed and mingled as much as old friends as loving relatives, and I ached for that feeling I had somehow come to take for granted. I watched like an outsider, and I felt the first unsettling feelings of anger that were so foreign to who I was and who I wanted to be. But I felt it, just the same.

  Chapter 51

  I awoke again in the basement rec room on the ninth day of Jan’s captivity, and lay there with only the dimmest light making its way to my surroundings. Again, as usual, there were no memories of dreams, no feeling of anxiety. I checked my center and found myself balanced and functioning, “So why are you awake?” I asked myself. Then I decided I’d better go see.

  Upstairs the kitchen was deserted as was the porch. I stayed quiet and made my way to Ed’s room. Light was sneaking out under the door, so I tapped quietly.

  “Come in,” I heard him say, just as softly.

  I opened the door but resisted the urge to step through the doorway, instead I just peeked around the jamb, and saw Ed at his desk, a large-caliber weapon in his hand and the barrel trained in my direction.

  “Oh!” He coughed more than said, and the gun went down on the desk.

  “Who were you expecting?”

  “The boogeyman for all I know,” he had a sardonic smile on his face, and I could see real pain in his eyes. “I’m glad it’s you, actually.”

  I closed the door behind me and took the chair in front of his desk. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t really know. I got a call about an hour ago from Bill Chance. Woke me up, but Rita would sleep through an earthquake. Anyway, he said he was calling because the Feds had put his entire department on ‘red alert.’ He was putting extra security on our block, and had even requisitioned the state police helicopter and another one from the Air National Guard in Kirksville. He wanted to make especially sure that you didn’t go off on your walk this morning. I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out what all that means, and I sorta lost track of time.”

  “I was trying to figure out why I woke up so early,” I said. “Maybe your ESP was working and I got your mental wake-up call.”

  “What do you think changed overnight?”

  “My guess would be that they cracked the watcher; found out who he was and used that to leverage more information from him... you know, that kinda stuff.”

  He was shaking his head, “That’s just it; I don’t know. I’ve never been involved with anything like this. I haven’t ever fired a weapon in anger. I was in Vietnam for nine months, got shot at about a hundred times and never saw a pair of black pajamas, much less a target. I’m technically prepared to defend myself or my family – hell, I shoot on average every week at the range, but I don’t really know if I could fire at another person...”

  I nodded sadly, understanding his concern. “I don’t know if you could or would, and nobody ever does until the time comes, and they either do it or they don’t.

  “It’s easier when the other guy is trying to hurt someone on your team, but, I’ve done it. I remember every one of those times, and I’m pretty sure that if I took the time to consider it, my weapon would never go off. But I didn’t; not once. I just reacted; training took over.”

  “How did it feel?” He whispered. I could tell he was struggling with the very concept.

  “Lousy pretty much, but then you’re just glad you’re alive and still trying to protect the people on your side... It’s not something I can share with you, Ed. I just hope you never have to find out for yourself, but from what I can see, you’ll do the right thing at the right time.”

  “Let’s go make some coffee,” Ed said with a sigh.

  And that’s the way our morning went. As each family member came to the kitchen, Ed explained that we were to stay away from the windows and stay inside until further notice.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Riley wondered out loud.

  “Jim thinks there’s been a break in the case, but we don’t really know. Sheriff Chance called me and said he was passing on instructions from the Feds. I think we’ll be better off just following their directions at this point.”

  Riley considered for a second, and then shot a little quick look with a grin at his dad, “Sounds like a Euchre Tournament and Chess Showdown kind of day.”

  So it went. Rita made a “breakfast buffet” and Cindy formed a storybook circle with the little kids in the basement rec room.

  The rest of the group either watched movies or tested wits in board games. It was obvious that the Sweet family was competitive in everything they did, board games and cards were no exception.

  “Too bad you don’t have that recreation wing done, Ed,” Gene said to his father-in-law; “We could have a pool shootout too.”

  “That wouldn’t take all that long,” Crawford said as he waited his turn at “Stratego,” “you probably have never seen Dad on a pool table – real evidence of a misspent
youth.”

  “Fast Eddy?” Gene asked with a laugh.

  “Taught him everything he knew,” Ed said, not looking up from his cards.

  They were easy on each other, but even their obvious camaraderie couldn’t completely block out the strain that was building as the day wore on.

  I was sitting in the mellow light of the porch with all the Venetian blinds dropped, letting my mind wander, thinking about waking in the Blue Mountains, about hunting behind Judy, the pointing marvel; float tube fishing with Jan; anything to keep my mind off what might be or might have happened to my girl.

  When Bill Chance’s quiet voice jolted me out of my reverie, I realized just how far off I had drifted.

  “What’s up?” I heard my voice more shrill than I wanted it; I swallowed and tried again, “What’s the news?”

  He smiled at me. “I don’t have details really, but the Feds have told me I can ease off on the security round these parts.”

  “When will we hear about Jan and Marie?”

  “Marie’s safe, at least she’s with the Feds. They took her to the hospital for a routine exam; I’m here to get Riley and Roxanne and take ’em up there.”

  “And Jan?”

  “Jim, I don’t have any information on Jan. I didn’t have an opportunity to ask questions. I got the call two minutes before I walked in that door.”

  “Sure,” I said, swallowing back my disappointment. “Let’s go find Riley and Roxie.”

  I led him into the house, and we ran into Roxie in the kitchen with Rita. “I’ll go get Riley,” I said and headed for the basement.

  I heard Roxie’s, “Oh! Thank God,” and hurried down the stairs.

  Chance had Riley, Roxie, Ed and Rita – they’d demanded to be included and it was clear the sheriff didn’t want to waste time objecting – out of the house and on the way. The rest of us were all upstairs, and everyone had questions, but nobody was pushing them.

  “Is it over?” Gene started to ask. “I mean...” He then looked at me, ducked his head and stammered.