Tony sat at his desk, typing a report on his computer, selecting words thoughtfully. The document would go to Anderson before being sent on to General Petersen, who never failed to find fault with their work. He re-read what he had written, wandering whether the report contained too many or too few details. His eyes moved to the calendar on his desk. Six more weeks until the end of the combat tour and he would leave the marines permanently. After all those years he would go home a civilian, and attempt to make a career with his computer skills. No one would ever again coerce him into going on missions he felt uncomfortable undertaking. A knock distracted him.
'Come in,' he called; deciding the report was written as well as possible.
Peters stepped in nervously. 'Sir, do you have a moment?'
'Sure,' Tony replied, waving his hand at a chair. 'Move those files and take a seat. How can I help you?'
Peters moved two files onto his desk and sat down nervously. 'Well sir, it's the sergeant,' he began tentatively.
'Koskinen?' Tony asked, surprised. 'What's wrong with him?'
Peters remained silent. Tony switched off his computer and turned his full attention to his private. 'Tell me, Peters.'
'Well sir, we were out on the town this morning. You gave us permission, remember, to buy some souvenirs to take home?' Tony nodded. 'After shopping we went to this club where lots of oil workers go, to play pool and check out what else was happening round here. And the sergeant heard some foreigners talking, and he got real mad, and …'
'Koskinen got mad?' Tony looked amazed, never having seen much emotion from his quiet sergeant. 'What did those men talk about?'
Peters shrugged. 'None of us understood a word, sir, they spoke some other language. Anyway, the sergeant just got up and punched one of them and he went spinning over a pool table, and sent a whole load of drinks flying, and then the other one hit him, and he grabbed a cue and smashed it on the counter, and yelled. And then the local police appeared and took him away.'
Tony shook his head; half wishing he had seen it for himself. 'Was he ok?'
'Oh yes sir, he was fine, but the police will be waiting for someone to come for him. We've got an hour until they contact the base, and Sergeant Koskinen always got us out before they could do that.'
'Always' Tony echoed. 'This type of thing happened before?'
'Only a few times, sir. Sergeant Koskinen always paid the money to the local police, and they let us go.'
'I think I'll have a little talk with him,' Tony muttered, amused and irritated at the same time. 'How much money do they expect?'
'$50 for releasing the man.' Tony sighed and opened his drawer, fishing out a $50 note. 'And another $50 for handing over all the paperwork, sir.' Tony shook his head and poked deeper into his desk, fishing out a few $10's. 'Is that all, now?'
'Yes sir, that's what we usually pay. Could you come now?'
Tony got up, and pulled on his uniform jacket he had removed in the heat. The air conditioning had broken down that morning, and he had worked in his shirt, longing to lock his door and remove that too. He wiped his face. 'Do you know the way?'
'Oh yes, sir. It would help if you could get a car.'
Tony requested a car for an hour from the garage at the base, signing it out for "shopping". Peters sat beside him, directing him to the centre of town, showing him where to park. The building was old, built of stone. 'Who do I ask for?' Tony inquired, feeling a little apprehensive. He had never bribed a government employee before, and hoped he would manage to act as expected here.
'The police captain, of course, coz he's in charge,' Peters told him.
'Ah, Peters, what do I do when I get to him? When do I hand over the money?'
Peters regarded him with the expression his mother used to throw him when he hadn't been able to locate his school bag in the morning. 'Sir, you go in, ask for the captain, go to his office, and sit down. Then you will listen to him talk, and accept a little coffee. It'll take about an hour.'
'An hour' he cried. 'I'm not sure what to discuss for so long.'
'No, sir, he will talk, you just have to listen and agree. Then he'll broach the subject of the prisoner, and you'll apologize, and pay him. It's simple.'
Tony nodded and took a deep breath, walking up the stairs of the building. He couldn't help casting a nervous glance around, relieved to see no Westerners present. He found himself inside a large tiled lobby, dim and cool. A clerk gazed at him, swatting flies. Tony waved the flies from his own face and went to stand in front of the window, waiting to be noticed. Eventually the clerk glanced up from his newspaper. Tony asked to see the police captain. The clerk gazed at him in silence. Tony waited, unsure how to proceed. 'The captain isn't in his office right now. Someone would have to find him.' He held his hand through the hole in the glass. Tony pulled his wallet from his pocket and handed him $10, hoping it would be a sufficient sum. Hopefully this guy would locate the captain soon, or he would be unable to give him his $100.
The clerk gazed at his palm in silence, making no movement. Finally Tony handed him another $5, and the clerk sighed heavily. 'I'll go to look. You wait here.' Tony thanked him and wandered round the dim lobby, wandering idly if it was dim on purpose. He waited by himself until the clerk arrived, telling him the captain had just returned. Tony nodded as though he believed it and followed him up a flight of stairs, along a corridor overlooking the lobby and into a large office.
A short fat man with a mustache rose to greet him, throwing him a huge smile while he took in his uniform. 'Lieutenant, good morning,' he said pleasantly. 'Sit down.' He waved a hand at a black leather chair. Tony settled in it, wandering sarcastically how much money the captain had made from them, to recognize his rank instantly. He felt hot in his jacket, longing to remove it, but noticed that the captain was impeccably dressed. He would just have to sweat it out.
'It's warm today,' the captain began, smiling all over his face. 'A lot warmer than in the States, I imagine. Where do you come from, Lieutenant?'
'LA' Tony replied, giving in to the urge to unbutton his jacket. Hadn't the captain heard of fans, he wandered unhappily?
'Ah, a lovely city,' said the captain. 'Can I offer you a cold drink, lieutenant, you look hot.'
Tony accepted gratefully, delighted to be spared a hot drink. He drank his orange juice quickly, wishing he would be offered a second glass. The captain watched him carefully. 'Should I order a jug of juice?' he asked. Tony nodded, and poured himself another glassful.
'And how long have you been in the Kingdom?' inquired the captain, pleasantly. Tony explained that he had been there for a while, but had served at home and only just returned. The captain told him cheerfully that he himself was from the capital, and had come to the town to take the post of police captain. He spoke of the football team while Tony glanced at his watch, wandering how soon Anderson would miss his report and walk in to scold him. Technically he was on duty, and had failed to log a destination, both of which would get him yelled at later. He wished he knew how to interrupt the captain's cheerful monologue.
'And with the new road laid up to the highway, it is possible to arrive an hour sooner…' the captain said, as Tony poured the last of the juice into his glass. Evidently the captain wasn't expecting any more visitors that day, and had decided he would just have to make do with a lowly lieutenant. The leather chair felt hot under him. Tony found himself slipping downwards and pulled himself up hurriedly, sitting straighter, glancing at his watch. He had been there an hour and half already, and the captain showed no sign of letting him leave.
'And how many brothers have you got?' he asked. Tony explained that he came from a large family and had three brothers and four sisters. The captain looked impressed, and settled into a detailed explanation of his own family.
Tony resigned himself to being scolded and confined to quarters upon his return and settled in to listen. His eyes rested on the empty jug, willing the captain to order a second one. Outside the traffic flowed along the busy street, occasional truck fumes blown up by the breeze. Tony picked up the empty jug and poured the remaining handful of drops into his glass. The captain paused, ringing his bell, and ordered a second jug from a young policeman. He poured them a glass each.
They discussed the last Olympic Games, and when that topic had been exhausted and Tony had accepted the possibility of remaining until lunch, the captain startled him by asking what had brought him there that morning. Remembering Peters' advice Tony apologized profusely for wasting the time of such an important dignitary, but kindly requested the return of his sergeant, apologizing again for the trouble he had caused. The captain looked pained, explaining that the US base liked to be notified of any trouble caused by their men, and the paperwork was almost complete.
'I'm so sorry, captain, being such a nuisance, but I need Sergeant Koskinen by the afternoon,' Tony explained. 'What with your paperwork, and our paperwork, it would take a lot longer than that. I wander if I could just take your paperwork,' he felt inside his pocket, producing his wallet.
'It would be a sad thing, delaying the US military,' the captain agreed, watching Tony count out his $100. 'Yes, lieutenant, I could hand you the paperwork directly, so you could hand it in to the appropriate authorities on the base. The thing is, your sergeant caused a lot of damage. I am forced to prosecute him.'
'How much did the damage amount to?' Tony asked, knowing he hardly had anything left in his wallet.
The police captain regarded him with a sly expression. '$200. For the broken cues, broken glasses, and the clean up bill. The base will take care of it, Lieutenant Almeida.'
'Ah, I'm sure they would; only I really haven't got that kind of time. We're due on maneuvers later this afternoon,' Tony lied. He could only imagine the kind of trouble facing anyone accused of such a lot of damage. Koskinen deserved to leave the army with a clean record. He had helped him often enough, during missions and had almost certainly saved his life in Alaska. Tony made up his mind that Koskinen would leave the army with a clean record, whatever it took.
He gazed up at the captain who watched him carefully. 'I don't have this kind of money on me right now, sir. I'll have to go back and get it.' He wandered how he could ask the man to hang onto his sergeant for another hour.
The captain seemed to understand his dilemma. 'Our fax has broken down today, lieutenant. Such a pity, of course. It would take at least two hours to repair it.'
'The bastard is giving me two hours to go fetch more money,' Tony thought in disgust. He pulled a smile onto his own face. 'I'd be back before that. If you could have your paperwork ready by then…'
The captain's smile broadened. 'It should be ready by then, lieutenant.'
Tony hurried out of the building, finding Peters standing under a tree, hot and sweaty. 'Sir, where have you been? I was getting worried you were arrested yourself.' Tony shook his head, explaining what had happened as they drove back through the traffic. 'He's charging you extra because you're an officer,' Peters exclaimed. 'Are you going to pay him?'
'Sure' Tony replied. 'I don't have much choice, do I?' He frowned as they drove up to the gates of the base. 'Peters, I'm going to go withdraw some money from the ATM. Could you take a look to check whether you see Captain Anderson around?'
Peters looked at him, giving a grin before nodding. 'Yes sir.' He left, whilst Tony was cornered by the garage pool sergeant, demanding the car back.
'Listen, sergeant, I'm real sorry my shopping took a little longer than expected,' Tony told him, hoping to placate the man, 'but you can imagine how it was. I really need the car again in ten minutes.'
'Sir, a Captain Anderson called me when he saw you'd taken a car. He was very specific about my telling you he wanted to see you right away when you got back. There's no way I could lend you the car again, anyway. It's the only one left, and Colonel Bentley has asked for it.'
Tony shook his head in despair, promising to see Anderson. He saw Peters beckoning to him. 'It's ok, sir, the captain is watching TV in the rec room,' he said. Tony thanked him and hurried to the ATM, withdrawing $300, just in case the police captain decided more money was needed for something, and returned to Peters.
'Peters, go join the men. I'm ok from here. I'll have to catch a ride to town somehow, and go pay the captain. You haven't seen me, ok?' Peters nodded. Tony left on foot through the gate, to the amazement of the guard on sentry duty.
He wandered along the highway, wandering how he could get a lift. The two hours he had been given would be up long before he could walk to town. Sweat poured down his face, leaving streaks in the dust blown there by the passing cars. Presently a truck stopped for him. An American oil worker leaned out. 'You've got a long walk ahead of you. Want a ride.' Tony nodded and climbed in, being dropped off just two blocks from the police station. He rushed up the stairs, wiping his face in the sleeve of his jacket, unaware he smudged more dust around. He told the clerk the captain was expecting him. The clerk informed him that the captain was out at lunch, he would be back shortly. Tony was asked to sit and wait in the lobby on a hard wooden bench in the darkest corner.
He stared at his watch in despair. It was now half past two in the afternoon, and he had first left the base around ten in the morning. His report was due in by ten thirty. Anderson would be livid. This would certainly be the last time he would get to leave the base. He shifted uncomfortably on the bench, rubbing his face as he thought through a dozen different excuses for his absence, discarding each of them.
Shortly after three the captain returned, smiling at Tony. 'Have you been waiting long, lieutenant? Come upstairs.' Tony followed him upstairs to his office, so thirsty he accepted another orange juice the moment it was offered. 'Our paperwork is ready now,' he said. He handed a typewritten sheet in Arabic to Tony, and took the $200.
'Is that it?' Tony asked, slightly disconcerted.
'Yes, yes, you have an interpreter who can translate the document,' the captain told him, smiling again. 'Ah, you need a stamp, of course,' and he placed an official looking patch at the bottom of the paper. 'Now you can take your sergeant.' He rang the bell again and the same young policeman arrived. They spoke in Arabic, and he left. A minute later Koskinen was led in.
Tony threw him a stern glance. 'I'm sorry for the trouble he caused, captain,' he apologized again, bidding farewell to him. 'Come on, Koskinen, let's go.' They wandered outside the police station, Koskinen following him silently. 'Now we get a nice long walk back to base,' Tony said sarcastically. 'Unless you can think of some other way we can get back.'
Koskinen regarded him in silence, before nodding. 'I know some oil workers who live real close. We could ask them to drive us back, Sir.' Tony nodded. He desperately longed to clean himself up before apologizing to Captain Anderson.
'Almeida,' Anderson's voice cut across the corridor, as he crept towards his quarters. 'A word, if you please. On the double.'
Tony groaned aloud, following him back down the corridor and into his office. Anderson gazed at him in silence, leaving him standing in the middle of the room. 'Where the devil have you been, lieutenant?' he asked quietly. 'The sergeant at the car pool informed me he passed my message to you at 12.30. It's now 16:00. And look at you! If I saw a private with such dusty boots, filthy trousers and smudged face he'd be on KP the rest of the month! You're supposed to be an officer.' Tony waited for his sentence in silence. 'Almeida, I'm waiting. Don't give me any crap about shopping; I want to know exactly where you've been.'
'Shopping, Sir,' Tony answered mildly.
Anderson nodded. 'Very well, Almeida. Let's see, what have we got. An unauthorized trip off base, a refusal to report to a superior when summoned, a second unauthorized trip, it's not looking too good, is it?' Tony chewed his lip. 'Go to your quarters, Almeida. If I see you so much as opening your door until I say so, I'll report the entire incident and it will go into your record!'
Tony returned to his room, showering off the grime and pulling on a clean uniform. He lay on his bed, listening to his rumbling stomach. Apart from breakfast, he had eaten nothing all day. He closed his eyes firmly. He would ignore his hunger and go to sleep, and hope he would be permitted breakfast in the morning. Sleep, however, eluded him. Just as he searched through his backpack hoping to find some candy from the airplane trip he heard a knock.
Koskinen stood outside in the corridor with one of his men, holding plates. He beckoned them in silently. They placed a steaming plate of shepherd's pie on his bed, and a plate of cream cake with some cherries. Koskinen handed him a bottle of beer. 'Mess sergeant always bakes himself a cake, Sir. He never eats the last few slices. Whoever got KP smuggles it out.'
'The mess sergeant bakes cakes for himself?' Tony exclaimed, remembering the hours he'd spent at KP, scrubbing burned pots and peeling sacks full of potatoes and carrots. He shook his head, amused. He'd been here almost a year, and he would never have known.
He flew home six weeks later, having completed two quiet patrols close to the border. Anderson shook his hand, wishing him success in the future. On the final night they held a party in the barracks which he attended, thanking all his men for their efforts, wishing them success in the future, and handing them a present each.
'You guys were great. We saw some tough places together; we met some real bastards out there. We all made it. Here's to the same success for the rest of our lives.' They clinked their glasses, drinking to the future. Several more toasts were drunk - to beautiful girlfriends, great jobs, health. Tony handed them his parents' address, telling them if ever they needed anything in the future he could help with, he would be glad to. He watched them party, leaving shortly afterwards to enable them to let loose, knowing he would have a hangover the following morning.
He would miss them, he knew, as the plane gathered speed and left the runway.
His mother waited for him at the airbase, giving him a huge hug as he appeared with his bags. She had Sandy with her. Tony laid his bags down and picked the toddler up, grinning hugely. 'Wow, princess, you've grown. They sure change in a year, mom.'
After spending a month at home, being fussed over by every member of the family he drove down to Mexico to stay with his grandfather. He was touched to find his bed was still made up, his favorite mug laid on the table on the verandah.
'Well, Tony, you've heard all my stories by now. It's your turn.' That night they sat together on the verandah, drinking wine while he recounted all he could of the war and the subsequent years in the desert, of oil fields burning, letting out solid black smoke into the sky, to oil spills on the sea, to being buried alive in the explosion, to boring desert patrols. He spoke of his shore leave and the peace he had found on the tiny island of Gozo, and of howling gales and blizzards. The sun rose on the story telling.
'You've seen a lot, Tony, too much,' his grandfather said softly. 'I don't think it will be easy for you to settle back into a quiet life. It might be alright during the day, but it will come back to you at night. Be patient. Slowly it will fade. Maybe in a couple of years you can find a wife, have some children. Don't rush it yet.' Tony had nodded, understanding.
Restlessly he rose from his corner. His grandfather had proved to be right, as usual. He had struggled adjusting back to civilian life, despite an excellent job. And his advice about waiting to find a wife had certainly paid off. Tony knew without a doubt that he had found the love of his life in Michelle. She was more than just a wife, she was his best friend too, the only one he trusted with his life. He would see her in another ten hours or so.
