As I arrived back at my hotel, it occurred to me I couldn't remember the last time I had been that emotionally churned up.  The overriding feeling was exhaustion and a desire to put it all out of my head completely.  So I decided to take a nap. 

Maybe I was testing the idea that talking it through would purge the dream from my sleep.  Whatever my excuse, I stretched out on the bed and hoped for a release from everything: past, present and future.

Unfortunately, my sleep was not dreamless.  I saw myself landing in a chopper, returning Peter to Alice.  The joyful surprise in her eyes was followed by an embrace of relieved elation.  I could almost hear her humming her contentment.  I say almost because I was not near her during that embrace.  She was, indeed, wrapped around Peter, as Dino had promised, as life intended. 

I had somehow convinced myself that fate had directed me down a twisted, weary path, and at the end, making the journey worth it, was Alice.  Alice: looking at me and only me.  Alice: admiring me and comforting me.  Alice: bringing me back to myself after years of isolation from everyone and from my own emotions. 

Alice was the key to the steel reinforced door that had kept me from the world.  All I needed was to be near her, to absorb her energy, to feel her touch.

But I watched her, in this all too vivid dream, returning to her old life, her prior obligations.  I ran to them and pulled her from him.  I pleaded with her to look in my eyes, remember all we had talked about, all we had felt together.  She showed no recognition of me at all. 

Our kiss would remind her, I thought in desperation.  Shoving Peter aside, I encircled Alice in my arms and engulfed her mouth in a passionate, seemingly unending kiss.  Her tongue reached for mine as hungrily as I offered it.  Her hands grabbed roughly at my shoulders, willing me to get closer still.  Her hips ground against mine until the ache I felt was unbearable. 

I ended the kiss and stepped back for surer footing, intending to pick her up and carry her away in my arms.  But when I looked in her eyes, I saw again the vague gaze of a stranger.  She didn't want me.  She didn't know me.  I meant nothing to her.

She turned back to Peter and walked slowly away, leaving me panting with a stirred desire.

And then I woke, sweaty, hot, hard as a rock, longing for a tongue or for a hand other than mine.  Hungry for someone who would recognize me, or at least what I needed.

What the hell was I thinking?  Alice didn't want me.  Sure, she admired me.  She thought highly of me.  She allowed me to hold her when she was afraid.  But all of the emotion, all of the desire was coming from me and only from me.  It was not being invited nor returned. 

She kissed my cheek like I was some child.  She returned my kiss only to reward me for talking out my inner demons, as she had asked.  And why keep me talking?  To take her mind off of the danger facing her true love, her true lover. 

I couldn't have her.  She didn't want me.  The desire was within me and only me.  And as suddenly as that realization hit me, that desire needed to be met.

I took a shower, put on my prowler clothes and headed for Dino's hotel, hoping he was still there even though the sun had already set.

He raised an eyebrow as he opened the door.

"You still feel like going out?" I asked crisply.

"Always," he smiled, waving me in.

I paced around his room like a caged tiger awaiting a meal.  My senses alert, I felt him watching me, relieved that I had come to my senses.  He gauged my mood quickly and got down to business.

"Did you decide if you wanna tag team or have one to yourself?" he grinned.

"I'll take my own, thanks."  I surveyed the room: two queen size beds, separated by a nightstand.  "Here?" I asked.

"Yeah, I always bring them back here.  Don't have to worry about ending up somewhere nasty and don't have to cart my toys with me."

He opened the top left bureau drawer to reveal an impressive collection of sex toys: ball gags, assorted plastic devices requiring battery operation, and clamps of various sizes. 

And at one end of the drawer were, of course, the restraints and blindfolds.  

I bristled slightly at the sight of those.  Preston and his games were still in my mind, and those were tangible reminders of what had just been vague memories a few hours ago.  I shook it off before Dino could notice.

"You travel with this shit?" I sounded more surprised than I actually was.

"Never leave home without them," he laughed.  "I get them through airport security by only bringing the non-metallic stuff.  Nothing here but cloth, plastic, leather and rubber.  Clever, eh?  I even add to the collection from the countries I visit.  Write it off as a business expense - interrogation aids." 

I tensed again at the sound of the word interrogation and licked my lips to calm myself back down.  He took it differently.

His eyes sparkled.  "See anything you might wanna use?" 

I looked away from the drawer and walked toward his window to bring myself back to the moment.

"I don't need any bells and whistles tonight, mate," I forced a laugh.   "Just want a woman who can suck the life out of me."

"That, my friend, is easily found in this town."

I imagined the women he had brought back here.  Good thing they changed the sheets daily, I mused.

"Not for a price, Dino," I tilted my head at him.  "Just looking for a talented amateur."

He feigned an indignant frown.  "Hey, I only pay for information - never for sex."

He tucked his gun in the room safe, did what he could to make his hair look fuller and put on a God awful flowered shirt.

My expression must have been revealing.

"They love this colorful shit in these third world countries."

I felt quite content in my black shirt and trousers.

As we headed out the door, I remembered I was unprepared for this.

"Hey," I said.  "Condoms?"

"Night stand."  

The bar in his hotel was much like every other cantina in Tecala: loud music, small tables, pseudo-festive décor.  The clientèle was peppered with whores and the occasional woman tourist or journalist, but mostly men on the prowl, some willing to pay, others just hoping to get lucky.

Dino and I sat at a table together, surveying the room for potential.  I ordered a single malt scotch to help shake off the dream and smooth out my mood.  He seemed amused since he was used to my ordering only the local beer.   He got up occasionally, taking the room's temperature and generally being his gregarious self.  I bided my time, waiting for the one that looked most promising, the easiest to motivate.

I finally fixed my gaze on a black haired, large breasted American, leaning casually against the bar talking with a girl companion I had previously ruled out.  What struck me was how covered her breasts were - as if you had to win the prize to see them.  No obvious cleavage for advertisement, just a loose, white gauze blouse draped seductively over a black camisole. 

Making my way to the bar, deliberately behind her line of vision, I slid my arm nonchalantly toward the bartender, making sure I grazed her shoulder as I reached.

"Pardon me," I used my deepest voice.

She turned toward me with a look of disdain, which softened, after she scanned me up and down, to one of curiosity.

"Why?  What did you do?"  She had the whitest teeth I'd ever seen.  Definitely American.

"I was reaching for a coldie and touched you by mistake."

"Did it feel like a mistake?" her voice virtually purred.

"No," I growled back.  "Felt pretty good.  How about I take you on the dance floor and touch you on purpose."

"Now you're talking." 

The dance floor was small, but functional.  People pressed against each other to avoid touching the couple grinding behind them.  It worked for me.  Her hip responded easily to my hand and we glided in a smooth tandem.  The scent of her perfume was enhanced by the beads of sweat lining her camisole strap.  I admired the view without nipping a taste.  Yet.

"You dance well," I offered.

"You lead well," she spoke with a husky voice.

"Are you this responsive to everything?" I tested.

"Depends on how well I'm being led." Her thigh pressed intentionally into my groin and I was ready immediately.  Time to step up the dance.

"How about I buy you a tequila?" I smirked.

She registered my expression and was playfully cautious.

"Do I look like a girl who likes tequila?"

"Not necessarily," I snarled into her ear.  "It's just a good way to test how proficiently you can suck...a lime."

Those perfect teeth were almost blinding.

"Well, you get right down to it, don't you?"

"I'm hoping to, love."

She hummed a flirty sigh.

"Don't often hear an Australian accent in this place.   I'm hoping the jokes about Aussies being big down under are true."

"They're not jokes, darlin', they're facts."  I ground my thigh into her crotch.   "Actually, down under refers to where we like to start on a woman and work our way up.  Feel like globe trotting a little, do ya?"

Her hand was suddenly wrapped around my increasing bulge.

"Is there a place I could do a full inspection?"

Sweet.

"I'm here with a friend.  He's got a room."

"Where's your friend?" she asked, taking in a long, slow breath which did wonders for her bust and my intentions.

I tore myself away from that view, scanned the room for Dino and tipped my head toward him. 

"Red headed bloke, sitting at the table, hitting on the blonde."

She laughed out loud, "What, Dino?"  

"You know him?"

"Intimately." She smiled wickedly.  "Are you as much fun as he is?"

"I have my own charms," I said, hoping she wasn't a fan of his domination bullshit.  "You into his toys?"

She shook her head without breaking eye contact.  "I'm not much for toys.  I like the real equipment.  How do you size up compared to him?"

"I've seen him in action.  You won't be disappointed." 

"I have my own charms, as well."  She licked her lips slowly.  "For instance, I have an unusually long tongue."  She stuck it out proudly, angling it down until it almost touched the base of her chin.

Perfect.

"That's impressive."  I was sincere.

"Some have even described it as athletic."  She glanced down at my crotch, then met my eyes with a gleeful grin.  "I was just wondering if it would reach all the way around the base of your cock."

The throbbing was becoming troublesome.

"I doubt it's that long.  But it would certainly be worth the effort to try."  I wanted to move this along.  "How about that tequila?"

"Oh, I think we can skip the pop quiz and go right for the finals, yeah?"  She grabbed my hand in hers and pulled me toward the table.  "Hey, Dino."

His eyes twinkled at me when he saw the two of us.

"Excellent choice," he chirped.

I reached out my hand.  "Pass me your key, mate." 

He stood in response, gripped his blonde tightly around the waist and pulled her out of her chair.

"We were just headed up ourselves."

Once inside the room, the white blouse was leaving her shoulders and fluttering toward the floor before I even got to the bed.  Her anxious nipples pleaded through the camisole, so I licked them, material and all, before peeling it out of my way.  I nipped at them unmercifully until she squealed her objection, pushed me from her and stretched out on the bed, panting.

Her jeans slid off in one smooth jerk, revealing silky black bikini panties.  They looked so damned sexy, I almost left them in place.  But I was aching for action, so they soon joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

I pulled the pillows out from under the covers, propped them up behind her head for my future plans and growled into her ear.

"I'm just gonna take a walkabout down under."

She nodded her head and angled it back into the mountain of pillows.

I nipped my way down her body until I was standing at the foot of the bed, adding my clothes to the pile.  I kissed a path into the triangle of her waiting wetness.

I buried my tongue in her, raising her ass for better coverage.  I almost laughed out loud at a memory of Dino talking about what he called "giving face".  He said he liked to approach it like a half moon slice of watermelon at a picnic: delve deep into it and get the juice all over you: nose, cheeks and all.  I did my best to attack it like he described.

I tongued her feverishly, hungrily, darting in and out, adding a probing finger, then two.  She squealed and bucked like she was riding a bronco and finally grabbed my hair at her crescendo.  That was fun.  Now it's my turn.

I slid up her body and planted a sticky kiss on her mouth.  She licked off the excess wetness enthusiastically, panting from her climax.

"Still thirsty?"  I growled.

"Parched," she gasped and opened her mouth, revealing that God given tongue.

I plumped the pillows to raise her head and shoulders and straddled her, my knees planted firmly on either side of her chest.  She surveyed me with admiration.  Now this was admiration I could use.

"Jesus," she laughed, "you do your countrymen proud.  I can see why British men resent you all so much."

That tongue was indeed impressive, and yes, athletic.  She traveled around the tip to the base and back like it was familiar territory.  First gasping for a full breath, she took all of me as deeply as I've ever been taken.  My head snapped back with such force, I thought it might leave my neck completely.  I had to brace myself with one hand against the wall to keep my knees steady.  I used my other hand to support her head.  Wouldn't want her tire out.

She licked with a vengeance and sucked like I was her only source of oxygen.  Her hands on my ass regulated the speed at which I rocked into her.  It was a galloping gate, about half that of my increasing heart rate.  The noises I made sounded like the winning participant in a pit bull fight.  She ramped up the speed and her own intensity until I needed both hands to brace myself against the wall.  When I came, it felt like I was flying, spinning delightfully out of control.

I withdrew and crumbled in a heap beside her, pulling a pillow over to support my head.  She laughed and hummed her contentment.  I didn't want to hold her, but instead, stretched out along side of her, not touching her skin.  I would have been quite happy to drift off into a sex induced floating reverie.  But I was pulled from that state by Dino's brash voice.

I shouldn't have looked over.  I should have assumed that he was just enacting his version of fun (it had been mine at one time in my life) and was not to be taken seriously.  But it was the first moment I had been conscious someone else was in the room, and it redirected my attention.

"There are only three possible answers to any question," he bellowed in an interrogator's tone.  "Yes, sir.  No, sir.  Or Please, sir.  A wrong answer will be met with immediate and severe punishment."

I glanced over to see the blonde, blindfolded, on her knees, with her wrists straining behind her, tied with a leather strap.  Either her role playing skills were extraordinary, or she was clearly in pain. 

She's enjoying it, I told myself.  Let it go.

"Do you understand?" Dino was demanding.

I looked away, closed my eyes and winced when I heard her feeble voice utter, "yes, sir".

My forehead was covered in sweat from the sex, but suddenly it felt like rain.  Cold, unrelenting rain.  And I was transported back.  I was restrained in the same fashion, shoulders pulled too taut behind me, wrists above the elbows, tied with leather bindings.  They had left my sight unencumbered so I could see my men, restrained in the same fashion, but blindfolded, lined up on their knees in the freezing mud and pouring rain.

Preston shouted orders at them, waited for a breathless response, then systematically beat them as they knelt.  I was forced to watch as he administered a kick to the ribs or stomach, a double-fisted blow to the neck, a back heel to the groin.  My objections were met with a series of back hands to my face.  He wanted to make sure I stayed conscious so I could witness it all.

I shook my head and opened my eyes, not looking Dino's way, but back to my American with the perfect smile.

"Think you can drown them out, darlin'?" my voice sounded shaky, but I let her think it was just a breathless recovery from her talents.

She licked her lips and nodded.  "Sure, baby.  Give me something to shout about."

I fumbled in the nightstand drawer for a condom and tore open the pack.  My fingers were trembling and I was hoping she didn't see it.  But she did, and smiled.

"Let me help you with that, lover."  She rolled it on, pulled me over on top of her, and wrapped her legs around the back of my knees.

She was still wet enough that my entry was smooth and quick.

Dino's barking orders were echoing in my head.  I needed to block them out completely.

"Talk dirty to me."  I almost pleaded with her. "Tell me what you want and how bad you want it." 

She began a series of standard phrases, whispered into my ear.  It wasn't enough to override Dino or the returning memory.

"Louder," I insisted.

She raised the volume and the level of description, punctuating her spoken images with appropriate grunts and groans.

It still wasn't enough and I felt myself losing control.  She had wrapped her arm around my back and it lay over a section of scars.  I pumped at her with renewed vigor to block out the sting of her touch. 

In this unlikely moment, I wanted more than anything to be looking into Alice's eyes.  She could have calmed me down.  She could have brought me back to the real moment, out of the angry grip of the past.

But it was not Alice under me, just this generic American with perfect teeth.  I wanted to finish with her and escape back to my hotel room, or better yet, back to Alice.

Dino's voice and the blonde's whimpers and responses became louder and I prayed, actually prayed, for something to make him stop.  Like a direct answer from God, the phone rang.  Dino swore, left the blonde and picked up the receiver, speaking too quietly for me to hear over the ranting of my partner.  Although he dispatched the caller quickly, it was enough of a break in the action for me to regain some focus.

I braced myself above her with one hand, reached behind me with the other and pulled her arm off of my back.  I grabbed both her wrists, one in each of my palms, and held her arms above her head on either side of the pillow.  If I could control her roaming fingers, I could stop the burn.  I finished myself with a flourish of hurried jerks.  I'm not sure if she came or not; I had ceased to care.  I just needed out of her, and out of the room.

It must have seemed less than gallant when I literally sprang from the bed.  I had placed my hand momentarily over her eyes, encouraging her to close them.  She thought it was part of a game and complied.  Truth was I didn't want her to catch sight of my scars.

I bee-lined for the bathroom and almost slammed the door shut.  Rolling off the condom, I disposed of it in the waste basket and doused myself in cold water: face, neck, torso, cock, everywhere.  I was washing off sweat and her and Dino's voice and Preston's laugh.  I buried my face in the towel, breathing as deeply as I could, trying to calm myself back down and stop the trembling. 

When it subsided enough, I exited the bathroom and dressed without looking at Dino or the struggling blonde.  I left without even giving a glance toward the bed I had romped in or the woman I had been with.  I just wanted out.  I just wanted air.  And more than anything, I just wanted Alice.  Near me.  Comforting me.  Calming me with her unfaltering gaze of encouragement.

I drove back to my hotel, fighting the urge to turn toward her house.  It was after midnight, so it was best to head back to my place.  Once inside my door, I stripped off and headed for the shower.  I wanted to cleanse every remnant of this evening off of me with a deluge of hot water. 

Ah, a hot shower, healer of all wounds, antidotes for all angers, relaxer of muscles and memories.

Well, not all memories.  Standing there with the steam surrounding me, I drifted into another image, this time a welcome one.

"It's over, Lieutenant, we're free." 

It was almost a unison cheer from the tired and broken bodies on the chopper as it rose.  The energy spurt was short but powerful.  Every man laughed, sang, and shoved each other in the joyful game of escape.

"Soon as we get back, I want a steak, a big, juicy steak and a stack of chocolate bars." Orly always had food on his mind.

"Nah," countered Munk, "a bucket of Kentucky Fried and a Big Mac in each hand."

"Fuckin' Yank lover!" a chorus of voices wailed.

"First thing I'll do is get drunk, then laid," bellowed Carson.  "Wait, I'd better get laid first in case I forgot how, then get drunk."

Our laughter even seemed to drown out the sound of the rotors.

"What about you, Lieutenant?" Orly asked, the first real smile in months curling across his lips.  "What are you looking forward to?"

I felt happy and scared and exhausted and sick, but needed them to believe I was strong.  To believe it even now, when it mattered less than it had for the previous five months.

"I'm going to take a long, hot shower," I began.  "Get clean and warm, and eventually dry."  I pictured it and smiled.  "Then I'm gonna lay down on my own bed in my own house, with one arm around my wife and one arm around my..." my voice choked from the engine smoke, or maybe from something else.  "...m...m..my son, and sleep for about a week and a half."

Of course it hadn't worked out that way.   The conditioning had dissolved the dream of holding my son, and my wife had already found company with whom to share our bed.  But the shower still held the power to purge me of the demons around me and within me, if only for the length of the deluge.

I must have stood there for nearly an hour, half wanting the water to cleanse me, half wanting to delay trying to sleep.  The thought of another dream, no matter the content, loomed like the promise of injury in an upcoming battle.

Eventually, warm, clean and dry, I spent a fitful night tossing and turning, waiting for the sunrise so I could return to Alice.  Back to Alice and sunlight and the promise of hope.

Arriving at her house the next morning was like coming back to myself.  The sunlight sparkled on the pool water.  The windows framed this gentle world I had found, this haven where life was as it could be. 

Seeing her making the coffee in the kitchen filled me with a sort of contentment, maybe even a peace, I hadn't found anywhere else.  I felt like wrapping my arms around her and saying something corny, but I resisted and kept my normal tone.

"Good Morning."  I smiled at my self discipline.

"Morning," she said curtly.  She didn't face me with a welcoming smile, like most mornings, but instead kept her back to me and continued fussing with the coffee pot.

"Is everything okay?" I probed.

"Fine."  Another curt, clipped response.  And still she didn't turn around.  She wanted me to sense her impatience.

"Alice, what's wrong?"  I stepped closer to her, almost reaching for her arm.

She turned and looked at me as though she needed an answer to something.

"I called your room last night." Her tone was indiscernible.

"I didn't get any message."  I had checked after my shower.  There was nothing.

"I didn't leave any."

She needed me and I wasn't here.  How could I be so stupid?  Had Marco finally called?

"Was there a radio contact?" I sounded breathless and guilty.

"No...no I was just... worried about you.  After all you'd been through in the afternoon I didn't think you should be alone.  I thought you would come back here."

I stood there, dumbfounded, unable to think of a response.

"When my third call to you went unanswered, I got so worried I phoned Dino's room."  

My heart literally stopped.  I remembered the phone ringing.  Dear God, no.  Maybe the call I heard wasn't her.  Maybe she called after I left.  Maybe....no, her tone and demeanor had already confirmed it.

"He assured me you were fine and that you were with him, but you were busy."  Her eyes narrowed as my heart sank.   "He asked if I'd like you to call me back," she took a breath, "after you were finished with her."

My voice screamed inside my head.  I swallowed hard and still couldn't speak.

"So, I guess I needn't have worried."  

I found some semblance of a voice and tried, "Alice, I..."

"You don't owe me any explanations," she said quickly.  "You don't owe me anything at all."

This couldn't be happening.  I could feel her pulling away from me.  I needed some damage control.

"There were too many things spinning in my mind.  I just needed to get out of my head.  I needed a distraction."  

It was the truth, but out loud it sounded lame.

"I don't understand why you didn't just come back here."  She sounded more angry than hurt.

"I...I didn't want to talk any more." 

"Then we could have spent the evening in silence," she said firmly, as if any other tone would have let me off the hook.  "We've done that many times.  We could have watched the sun set and the city lights come up.  We could have each read - you in your chair, me in my love seat.  We didn't need to talk."

It was a lovely image, but it wouldn't have worked.

"I didn't want silence, either."

"Well, exactly what did you want?" Impatience edged her voice and suddenly I found it combative. 

What the hell did she want?  Was she demanding my full confession?  Was a simple answer never enough for her?  Alright, fine, the whole truth.

"Alice, when we..." I wasn't sure she would take responsibility for it, so I took it all, "when I kissed you, it awakened in me a certain level of need."

Was that plain enough?  Do you get it yet?

"So you chose a stranger?"

I tilted my head and scoffed in angered confusion.

"What choice did I have?"

"If you needed someone to hold, we've been there before."

Did she have any concept of a man's needs?  Did I have to spell it all out for her?  Or was my confession just another part of her requirement for my atonement?

"I needed more than that."

"Oh, more than that!" she almost spat the words at me.   "I thought you said those encounters left you angry and cold.  Weren't those the words you used?"

"Yeah."

"But that was preferable to being here.  That meant more than holding me."

What a ridiculous comparison.  A woman's logic.  I wasn't falling into that trap.

"I didn't say that."

My refusal to apologize seemed to energize her argument.

"And how dare you - to blame ....  To say that kissing me made you need to fuck a stranger." 

She shook her head at me like I was an errant school boy.  

"I thought you were growing into a better man than that." 

That one felt like a direct punch in my gut.  She stood her ground and fired a last shot.

"But those hopes were apparently unfounded.  I guess you're exactly the kind of man who prefers that kind of woman."

I had no choice but to fire back.

"Well, she did things to me I doubt you would have offered," I hissed.

There was a sudden silence, followed by a strangling clench of my stomach muscles.  How could I have said that to her?  What the fuck was I thinking? 

This wasn't some replay of a hundred fights with Penny when I had been caught.

This was Alice.   Alice, whose assessment of me actually mattered.  What a fuckin' idiot I was.

"Alice, I'm s...."

"You don't want to talk anymore, remember?" she shouted.   "Well, I don't want to listen."

"Alice," my voice was breathless, "please."

"You apparently still need to cool off."  She waved her arm, turned and walked away, almost screaming back at me.   "Why don't you go douse yourself with some laps in the pool?  I don't want to look at you at the moment."

She was right.  That was exactly where I wanted to be.  I needed to dunk my head under the surface and wash the anger and the shame away.  I needed to kick my feet and punch my fists through the water.  I needed to be where I didn't have to face her, where I couldn't see that look in her eyes. 

I stayed under the water, where no one could hear my screams, where I could wallow in my own self loathing.  Maybe I could drown myself and she would forgive my lifeless, floating body.  Why did I have to disappoint her? 

And why did she have to call at that moment?  Was that God's humor - distracting Dino in order to give me time to regroup and at the same moment establishing for Alice that I wasn't worth her esteem?  Bloody fucking ironic, I'd say.  Dino must have been amused by the timing.  He'd want to laugh about it over a beer tonight.  Irony was his specialty.  His and God's.

I rose to the surface for a breath and opened my eyes to see Dino standing at the edge of the pool.

"You'd better get out of there," he looked troubled.

"What's up?" I managed.

He informed me that Kessler, the German missionary, had been dropped off at one of his precincts last night.  He claimed he was with Peter.  They had staged an escape and although Kessler himself was successful, Peter had been killed during the attempt.

I couldn't believe my fuckin' ears.  It was over?  Like this?  I disappoint her with my behavior and inability to apologize, and now I fail her completely by losing the chance to bring Peter home?  I couldn't face her.  I couldn't look into those eyes again.

I told Dino to explain things to Alice while I dressed so we could head to the hospital.  She didn't say a word to me all the way there.  

Once inside Kessler's room, his story revealed holes of opportunity and I was suddenly revived.  He didn't see the body.  He only heard the shot.  Peter could still be alive.  I could still get him back.

I listened intently to his retelling of life in the camp, mainly to gain a level of detail.  But it soon turned to talk of how much Peter loved Alice, which was hardly helpful and proved enough of a distraction that I left the room so I could think more clearly.  Dino followed me out.

Inconceivably, he was buying this assumption that Peter was dead.  At least he was suggesting I consider it possible.  But the facts were circumstantial at best.  I would believe it when I confirmed it myself.  Until then, we had to stay in play. 

Dino was obsessed with Kessler's map and his own renewed chances to retrieve Calitri.  I saw that sparkle in his eyes which meant only one thing: direct extraction - he was going in.  He loved the adventure of an operation that took him right into center of the action.  I could see it: he had already decided.  He had called his crew the minute he saw the map.

But I needed to keep him in check in order to stay in play.  And I needed to explain to Alice that Peter may still be alive.  I would give her back that hope and she would cling to it.  She would believe because I believed.

But her reaction was completely the opposite of what I expected.  She was crying, of course.  The shock of Kessler's information must have impacted her.  But my insistence struck her as inappropriate somehow, as if grieving was more important than seeing the facts clearly. 

I followed at her heels down the driveway, repeating the military conclusion that seemed so obvious to me.  The mission was still on; it had to stay in play.

She shouted at me, as if everything I was saying had dissipated into the air before it reached her comprehension.

"Peter is dead! Let me grieve," she pleaded needlessly.  "Why can't you let me do that?"

It seemed so clear to me.  Facts are what you base decisions on. You don't draw conclusions from what was at best just circumstantial third party hearsay.  So I explained what I knew for sure.  I could trust my training.  I could trust my experience. 

"Instinct," I shouted back.  "Until I know, until I'm sure, until I have received a 100 percent visual confirmation of the body of Peter Bowman, I am looking to retrieve my cargo and complete my mission."

I was so focused on the anger in her face that I honestly didn't see her hand swing across.  But I felt that slap to my core.  

I may not have known what was behind her kiss, but I felt everything that propelled that slap.  It was for the insensitive way I had just referred to Peter; it was payment for my behavior last night and my comment this morning; it was because she believed I could get him back and now I had failed her. 

I had betrayed her, scorned her, insulted her, disappointed her and failed her: all in twenty four hours and she wanted me to feel it.  The force of it was enough to turn my head, and I left it at that angle so I wouldn't meet her eyes. 

She had pulled away from me this morning and now she sought to break our connection completely.  That slap severed whatever admiration, whatever esteem, hell, whatever she felt for me and I became detached again.  Driven back.  Unwanted.  Floating alone. 

I stood there, my hand covering my face, and had to actually center inside myself before I could take a step forward.  But the step I finally took was toward her: to apologize for my military insensitivity to her emotional state, to calm her and comfort her if I could, and to try in some other tone and some other syntax to explain the facts and the need to stay in play.  I hadn't failed her.  Not yet.  Not while we were still in play.

When I entered the house, I looked for Alice, but Sandro, Maria and Cinta distracted me with the sound of an argument between them.  I understood enough of their shouts to ascertain that Cinta had information about Peter that had been held back.  I used a gentle tone, promised her protection, and got what I needed:  Marco's identity. 

Armed with her information, and one of our radio conversation tapes, I located Marco at a public parade.  I established quickly that I was ready to expose his "secret life" which would have undoubtedly ended his real one.  He crumbled under the weight of my facts and evidence, and started talking. 

First priority: was Peter alive?  Yes, he had tried to escape and been hurt, but survived.    Second, was Calitri being held at the same camp?  Yes, his shock at the mention of the name confirmed it. Third, could we still get the deal done?  No, the deal was off.  The military threat against their cocaine fields had derailed simple K&R procedures, and any money/cargo exchange had been completely undermined.  That was all I needed.  Now I knew we'd have to go Dino's way. 

But: we were still in play.