Chapter 29-Alternatives

"No way. There's no way you're taking me out of an operational role," Mike raised his voice.

"That's not in your control Staff Sergeant," General Daily responded testily as LCol. Ritchie looked away, not liking where the conversation was going. Despite the general's sympathy he didn't appreciate the NCO's attitude.

Mike had remained silent during the two hour ride from the front to the operational headquarters. At first he'd been confused by what was going on but anger had slowly crept back in as he began to see what might be going on. This was not a reassignment he realized before arriving, they were taking him out of the fight.

No, this can't be happening. They'd not let this happen. It must be some mistake, Mike thought to himself, trying to rally his spirits. They'd get it all sorted out.

When he arrived and had been taken in to see General Daily his heart began to sink. He'd brusquely demanded to see LCol Ritchie, who still was his battalion commander. The exchange between Mike and the officers had not gone well. He been told he would not be allowed back into combat, the risk of his death too high.

"Please, sir, don't do this to me," Mike implored his voice dropping. Suddenly feeling very tired, he fought hard to keep his eyes from tearing up. "I need this, more then you can ever know."

Daily sighed heavily, his irritation at the man melting away. His heart was heavy. He couldn't give the man what he desperately wanted. "It's outside my control son," the general finally admitted, dropping the pretense of command. "I don't like it any more then you do but we all report to someone. I have my orders and so do you. You're being transferred effective immediately from 2nd battalion to Area Headquarters. We'll give you a couple of days to adjust then we'll find something useful for you to do."

Mike stood stunned at the finality of the order. His shoulders began to heave and he felt himself getting choked up, unable to hold his emotions in check.

"Sir, there has to be another way," LCol Ritchie finally ventured to speak, unable to stomach what was happening before his eyes anymore. "Can't we…"

"There isn't colonel," Daily snapped back. He felt impotent and that made him angry. "We all have our orders, including you. Just get it done."

"Yes sir," Ritchie responded coldly. He snapped off a salute then stormed out of the office.

The die cast, Mike numbly followed suit, saluting and robotically walking out of the office into the warm fall sunlight, his heart cold as winter in Alaska.

"Damn," Daily said to himself as he stood alone feeling incredibly frustrated.

Mike returned to his battalion area, not knowing what else to do or where to go. The familiarity gave some comfort but the events of the past couple of days felt like a roller coaster ride at Magic Mountain. The thing with Michele still didn't sit right with him. What was she doing out on a date? He mused. She'd probably heard about the stuff with Amanda, it was all over the press, but he thought that all would have been cleared up. Could she have given up? Found some other guy? he pondered to himself. It didn't make sense. That was bad enough, then to finally be of some use after nearly two months away from the front on his tour and to be pulled off because he was more valuable as a figure head then a soldier made him sick. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair.

"Hello Michael."

Father Alexander came and sat down beside him. The priest seemed hesitant, not his normal optimistic self. He sat, saying nothing and avoiding eye contact. Something wasn't right.

"I've been pulled from combat," Mike declared without emotion, beginning to feel numbed by everything going on. It was too much, overwhelming him like quick sand.

"I heard. That's why I wanted to find you," Father Alexander replied. "I wanted to see if you were okay."

No, I'm not, but I'll get over it," Mike confessed bitterly. Then he saw an opportunity to perhaps have some questions answered. "Listen, what's up with Michele? I went to see her and she was gone for the day on some date I was told. Do you know anything about this?" he demanded.

"I didn't know, but I did have my suspicions," the priest confessed awkwardly.

"What do you mean you suspected something?" Mike demanded.

"Well, I saw…no, I sensed…I mean, I….I just suspected things weren't right," the usually confident priest stammered, confused and upset himself.

"And you didn't think to tell me?" Mike exploded. "I walked in blind! Don't you think it might have helped to tell me something was up?" he raged.

"I…Michael. I just, I just didn't know what to say…didn't want to believe it," Father Alexander tried to explain, miserable at the whole situation.

"That's just perfect. This is all just unbelievable. I thought things were bad on the tour," Mike declared sarcastically. "First Michele, then the military and now you."

"That's not fair Michael. It's not like that," Father Alexander tried to defend himself.

"Isn't it? I thought you had my back," Mike responded coldly, his words cutting like a knife. He turned and stormed away.

"Michael, wait…please, wait," Father Alexander implored.

"Leave me alone!"

Father Alexander's head slumped as tears rolled down his cheeks. He felt ashamed and helpless. He did the only thing he knew to do: he prayed.

Mike stumbled through the rest of the day, hurt, confused and angry. All he'd tried to do was his best, serve his country, honor his commitments and everything seemed to be falling apart around him.

How can this be? he raged at God. Why is this happening?

He heard only silence in reply. Then, almost mocking him, he caught snatches of conversations of people he passed, they who were oblivious to the misery he felt, going about their lives. As if coming out of a stupor he realized dusk was beginning to descend and he'd wandered aimlessly into the civilian area. He needed a respite, something to ease the pain, to dull the senses. He found it in a neon sign across the street.

Nightclub.

He walked into the dimly lit establishment and heard pop music pounding out of the sound system. The place was bigger then it looked outside, fanning out into a triangle. A long bar was on the left with tables scattered around the right. At the back a dance floor sat waiting for people to get lost in the music. Being early in the evening few people were in the place, better for Mike who wanted to be alone. He slid over to the bar and sat down on one of the pleather covered stools.

A male bartender wearing a white collarless dress shirt and earrings in both ears approached him. "What can I get for you sir?" he asked politely.

"Sir," Mike snorted, "I'm no sir. I'm just a grunt who follows orders."

"Okay," the civilian answered slowly, taking a half step back, not sure what he'd just walked into. "What would you like?"

"A lot of things…a lot of things," Mike reflected. Seeing the confused look on the twenty-something bartender he shook his head and answered, "Get me a Bud." Then he paused. "No wait, give me a Jack Daniels and make it a double."

Hours later and more JD then he could count, Mike was finally beginning to feel mellow. The music had gotten louder as the place had begun to fill up. The dance floor was packed with people gyrating their bodies, as if urgently trying to take themselves some place else. Mike smiled goofily, the alcohol dulling his senses, mission accomplished.

"You're Staff Sergeant Mike Nantz, aren't you?" a female voice purred from beside him.

Mike turned awkwardly, not entirely in control of his faculties to look square into the painted face of an attractive dark haired woman holding a drink seductively in her hand. She sat on the stool beside him. No, she was perched on it instead, a long leg dangling along the high slit in the tight dress she wore, accentuated by black stiletto high heel shoes. The mid-20's woman's dark eyes drank him in and he, in turn, began to lose himself in the fragrant aroma of her perfume. He sat and stared at her for a long moment, his brain unable to process what was happening.

"You are him, right?" the woman asked again, a smile erupting on her face.

Finally his brain computed. "Yes, yes I am."

"Wow, this is amazing. My name's Libby. You probably don't remember me, but I work at the military hospital as a nurse. I was there one time when you came in wounded. I've read all about the things you've done. You really are a hero, thank you for all your sacrifices," she gushed.

"Thanks. It's no big deal. I'm just doing what any of the guys would." He liked the fact that someone seemed to appreciate him for a change.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, changing the subject. "I thought you'd be..."

"On the front? Yea, I should be," he responded bitterly. "It would take hours to explain. I wouldn't want to bore you with the details."

"I've got all night," she answered, looking deep into his eyes. She put her hand on his forearm and left it there. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Mike smiled, enjoying the seductive woman's touch. Something in the recesses of his brain shouted warning, like an alarm going off, but he mentally turned that switch off.

The pair sat and talked and drank for longer then Mike could recollect. He didn't want to remember. He didn't care instead wanting to live the moment. Everyone had let him down: Michele, the Marines, Father Alexander, it was time to get lost so he sat with this woman who hung on his every word seeming to get closer with every sentence. Head swirling he unburdened himself as Libby continued to stare at him, captivating him like some Medusa.

Mike next found himself on the dance floor with Libby. Though the song was fast the pair were intertwined in a slow dance as others hedonistically gyrated around the couple. She had her leg wrapped around and in between his to draw him in tighter. Their arms were around each other and her head was buried in his chest. His head was dropped into her sweet smelling hair which was more intoxicating then the drinks he'd had.

Mike could feel her hot breath on his chest and sensed himself stirring within his manhood. She looked up at him, longing in her eyes, her arms pulled him tighter, she began to reach up, her lips parted slightly, moist with anticipation, breath shallow, longing. Mike, involuntarily began to lower his head, he closed his eyes, surrendering. He held her tighter as well, feeling her body tighten and press against his. He was prepared to lose himself in this oasis. The moment of contact was inches away.

"Staff Sergeant Nantz? Hey Staffs!"

The voice broke the hypnosis. He involuntarily pulled back though Libby still clung to him. He looked towards the voice and saw to his surprise it had come from Cpl. Harris who was dancing nearby with his fiancée Cherise. The pair moved closer so Harris could talk to them.

"What are you doing here?" Harris asked in shock as he looked at Mike and the situation he was in. Then, looking closer he got a better sense of his condition. "Are you okay?"

"He's just fine," Libby snapped back, glaring darts at the couple.

Mike's head began to swim as the alcohol seemed to take over. He swayed and almost fell to the floor, breaking out of the clinch. "Hey, Harris, man…when did you get here? Man, its good to see you out of hospital," he slurred.

"Come on, let us take you back to the base," Harris declared, getting a confirming nod from Cherise who looked hard at Libby.

"I know you," she stated to the glaring woman. "You're a nurse at the hospital."

"Whatever," Libby shot back testily. "Listen, we were having fun so why don't you go back to whatever it is you were doing and leave us alone?"

"I don't think so," Harris answered, stepping between the pair. "I think its time for him to get back to the base."

"Well I don't," Libby shot back belligerently. "Who do you think you are?"

"A friend who's watching his six," Harris replied, standing his ground. The turning to Mike he declared, "Let's go Staffs. Time to go."

"No...I'm okay…having fun…," Mike slurred, but not resisting, finding the room starting to spin.

Harris and Cherise took the now slumping Mike and began to lead him from the dance floor. Libby intercepted them and grabbed Mike. Kissing him on the lips she whispered in his ear, "We're not done yet, call me okay?" She slipped a piece of paper in his pocket, allowing her hand to linger.

"Come on Staffs," Harris ignored Libby, encouraging Mike as he tried to stop. "Time for bed."

The following morning Michele entered the hospital, desperately searching for Kelly. She had successfully avoided Dr. Chevreau the previous day, spending it instead thinking. She wanted to talk to her friend, if the nurse would still talk to her. The things she said still burned in her mind. Michele had begun to look at things differently and maybe she had been mistaken about Mike. Guy was on her mind. Though handsome there was something about him that didn't sit right. Maybe it was guilt. She needed to talk, to sort things out before she made another mistake. Rounding a corner in the corridor she saw the familiar outline of the woman.

"Kelly, can I talk to you?" Michele asked hesitantly.

"Good morning Michele," the nurse responded coldly.

"Kelly, I'm sorry about what I said to you the other day. I was confused and angry," Michele confessed. "You were only trying to help. Can you forgive me?"

The woman paused for a moment, as if seeking out the sincerity of the comment. Seemingly satisfied, she smiled and replied, "Of course I do. And I need to apologize as well. It's easy to make pronouncements when it's not your life. I should have been a bit more understanding."

The pair hugged.

"So what is going on with you?" Kelly asked pointedly.

"I don't know," Michele confessed. "I'm so confused."

"Have your feelings for Mike changed?"

"Well no. I'm not sure. When he left I was sure but then all that stuff in the papers came up and then Guy has been so sweet," Michele answered. "But you tell me Mike came to see me and he even brought a flower, then all that other stuff. I just don't know."

"You should talk to him," Kelly counseled. "At least hear what he has to say. I think you owe it to him and yourself. And besides, Guy has a bit of a reputation."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's not really my place to say…," the nurse answered hesitantly, thinking she'd overstepped her boundaries.

"Kelly, please. This is very important."

"He has a rep as a bit of a ladies man."

Michele could feel her heart rise into her throat. "Really?"

"Come on. You never heard?"

"No, I've been kind of isolated from a lot of that stuff. I just haven't paid attention." Michele thought back to how their relationship had built and some things started to make sense. "Have I been a fool, Libby?" she wondered, pausing to think for a moment. Then burying her face in her hands she cried out, "What must Mike think?"

"I don't know, he seemed pretty upset. But love conquers all. You guys can work through it, I'm sure of it," Libby encouraged her.

"I have to talk to him, right away. There's been too much lack of communication lately. I'll talk to him today." Her bright face suddenly clouded.

"What is it?"

"I…I don't know where to find him."

"I'm sure…" Kelly's response was cut off by the sound of a loud female voice coming from around a corner in the corridor.

"The guy is totally all man. 100% grade A. Like oh my god, when we were dancing, it was like electricity. I was totally lit up."

Raucous laughter greeted the comment.

"And it was really him?" another voice questioned. "It was really Mike Nantz?"

Michele and Kelly froze as they heard the question.

"Yea, for sure. I think I'd know the guy. I mean his picture is everywhere," the voice replied that each of the women realized belonged to the nurse named Libby.

"And he was hot?" another female voice asked with anticipation.

"Totally. I mean smokin' hot," Libby replied enthusiastically.

"What's he like?" still another joined in.

"Amazing. The guy is such a dream. We talked for a long time and then…well…you know," Libby answered demurely.

Michele felt like she was going to be sick. She looked to run away, to get out of the place. But before she could leave Libby and her entourage rounded the corner and ran right into the pair.

Libby gave them a predatory smile, realizing they'd likely heard the previous conversation. "Oh hi Michele," the nurse spoke familiarly not using her title of doctor. "I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you'd be…well, busy." The dark haired woman made to continue walking on but stopped instead and smirked. "No offense, but you've got pretty bad taste, passing up Mike for Guy."

"What do you mean?" Michele choked, the casualness of how she said 'Mike' causing her heart to race.

"I guess I shouldn't say that. I guess I should thank you for dumping him so he could see there are others out there who would appreciate him more."

"She didn't dump him," Kelly retorted, stepping in.

"Really? Then why is she making out with Dr. Chevreau and why is he in a club drinking alone?"

"I didn't…I haven't," Michele stammered, face turning red at the realization others knew about her embrace with Guy. "Mike and I are…"

"Finished? That's how I see it and that's how he's taken it," Libby declared confidently. "But don't worry, he wasn't alone for long."

Michele's face dropped, the words and meaning sinking in. Had her actions driven him away? Was it true that he'd moved on?

Libby's cell phone went off. Delicately taking it from her pocket she looked at the screen. "Well isn't this a pleasant surprise? I think that's him right now."