Chapter Three
"Looks like Parker has a record," Loker pipes up. He types something on the keyboard to bring up a file on the screen.
Cal pushes his glasses onto his face, reading over the highlighted parts of the document with a shake of his head. The army official had two records of hate crimes, both buried files barred from public access. One was against a Jewish synagogue of which Parker was accused of vandalising and attempting to light up in flames. And the other was a violent attack on a group of coloured men. To make things worse, there had also been the accusation that he had vandalised government buildings. There was simply no way to be certain.
"That could be significant," Cal tells Loker. "Get Foster on a psych profile."
"Yup," Loker agrees, getting up from his seat.
Cal plops into a nearby chair, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning all the way back. Of the three US soldiers of who he was told were suspected, Parker seems most likely to be involved. The other two soldiers, Redman and Taylor, have no priors and generally seem like decent men. But even decent men can do heinous things, it does happen. So, Cal remains open to the possibility.
Cal sighs, pulling up Parker's interview again to see if he can glean anything more. A sharp staccato clicking gradually increases in volume until Gillian enters the room, stopping short of where he sits. He stops the video without turning away from her, unwilling to focus on anything else. She wears a long-sleeved red blouse and a wispy ponytail; strands of hair fall free to frame her face, making her appear younger than usual. Cal's heart twists so instantly. He doesn't want to leave her.
"Needed me?"
"Always need you, love," he says, dropping the file he'd been holding onto the table.
She rolls her eyes and laughs a little, but plays along.
"I know," she says. "You're hopeless. Now, can I have the file?"
"Guess so."
Gillian clutches the steering wheel tightly in her hands; her knuckles go white under the pressure. She turns into the airport's parking lot, pulling into the first space she sees. She releases a breath, pent-up nerves roiling in her stomach as she moves the gearshift into park. She turns off the car, her eyes focused completely on Cal in the passenger seat. He feels so far away. Gillian reaches out a hand to breach the space before she can register the action, her breath seizing up as he takes hold and squeezes. It's meant as a comfort, but it doesn't suffice.
Gillian only lets go of his hand long enough to get out of the car and walk around to the other side, her steps quick so she reaches Cal's door just as he steps out of it. Tethered together once more by the hand, they walk into the airport to find where Emily's waiting for them. She had come on her own, so she wouldn't have to miss any school to be there.
The airport is quiet at this time, yet still busy, people rushing around to ensure they don't miss their flights. Gillian follows a well known path to where Emily had told her she would be waiting, when Cal pulls on her hand hard until she stops moving. She gasps, but follows the movement.
"You can't not say it," he says, his voice softened so that his words are only for her.
"What do you mean?"
"All the things you want to say, you have to say them."
She tenses for a moment, feeling like she'd been caught in a lie. But, Cal's expression is more adoration than accusation. Actually, it's not accusation at all.
"I... I'm so afraid," she admits slowly as she sways closer to him.
He wraps her up in his embrace, the wool of his sweater soft against her cheek.
"You got so lucky the last time and I could've never had the chance to tell you. I could've never known," she says into his neck, closing her eyes against an onslaught of tears.
"You do know, Gill. I love you. Always," he says, pulling back to look at her.
She nods and sniffles, looking down to her feet and then back up at him, her eyes wide blue saucers.
"You don't get lucky twice, Cal. You don't. Promise me you'll be careful," the words are desperate, strained, echoing 'don't leave me' in the air.
"Promise," he says instantly.
"Good. 'Cause I love you, too. And I don't want to lose you."
"There it is," Cal says as the truth erupts from the confines of her chest.
"There it is," Gillian moves in for another hug.
Gillian stifles a yawn as Cal hugs his daughter goodbye, waiting just to the side.
"You didn't get enough sleep," Cal fusses as he comes away from his little girl, his hands brushing over Gillian's cheeks as soon as he's close enough.
"I dreamt," Gillian half-heartedly explains.
"Bad things," he notes, pulling her into a hug also.
"You have to take care of yourself, too. Sleep," he insists to which she nods against his shoulder.
"I'm sure I'll be back by Christmas," he says, pulling up a smile as he pulls away.
She cuts off his optimism with a kiss, with the plea not to make her hope when it only makes the hurting greater.
"Christmas," she repeats with a small smile when she puts space between them.
She hopes it's not a lie.
Turning to Emily, she takes another step away from Cal, throwing an arm over the girl's shoulders. Cal waves as he goes, calling off a final 'I love you' as he heads towards the terminal where a helicopter waits to fly him to Afghanistan.
"Are you afraid?" Emily asks, untucking herself from Gillian's embrace to peer up at her.
"Yes," Gillian readily admits. "Very afraid."
"Me too," Emily agrees, threading her arm between Gillian's.
Gillian sighs, trying to think of something to say. It doesn't even have to be comforting; it just has to be true.
"Do you remember last December, when your dad went to Afghanistan?"
Emily nods, but her expression goes still.
"We were scared then, too. But everything was okay. Everything was better than okay."
'Fear isn't always something to run from,' Gillian remembers. 'Fear is healthy. Don't forget it.'
"You two were dating by Christmas," Emily smiles.
"Weeks before," Gillian admits. "After the Christmas party."
Emily's eyes widen and she blinks rapidly for a few moments.
"Fear," she supplies with a slow nod of her head.
"Exactly," Gillian agrees. "Something good could come out of this."
"Something good," she repeats slowly. "Thanks, Gill."
Gillian just smiles. She has nothing more to offer.