(Ten)

10 January 2065

Gadsby's Tavern

Old Town Alexandria,

Virginia, USA

2100

Inviting the Celina family out to dinner had actually been Becca Green's suggestion. In fact, she had selected the restaurant, her aide had made the reservations, and the same aide had contacted the Celinas to confirm. The General had then dismissed McQueen with: "Convey my compliments to Ms. Celina, and remember to give her my number. Please tell her that I want to see her when she moves down here. Enjoy your evening."

All that had been left for the Colonel to do was to make the usual 'do-you-serve-InVitros?' phone call - and show up. McQueen hated to admit that he would have never thought of treating the Celinas to dinner. General Green had explained the choice in very clear and concise terms.

"One: The food is excellent. Two: The food is plentiful and not overly fancy, so Kylen's teenaged brother ... What did you say his name was again?"

"Allston, Ma'am," McQueen offered.

"Well, Allston won't fidget and complain of near starvation. Three: It isn't just another restaurant. It's really true - George Washington really did eat there. The father will like that bit of history, I imagine"

"Yes, he will," thought McQueen. "It got my attention."

"Four: They do it up in period costumes and music. The girls will like that. And five: It isn't like every other restaurant. Everyone will remember this dinner. They will remember the night that Colonel McQueen took them out to dinner at Gadsby's"

What the General had not said, but what McQueen had thought, was: "And it is a great place to break some news that might not go over too well." McQueen had observed - from a distance - the way that various families took the news that a Marine was shipping out. And Amy had gone ballistic if he was gone for even a week. He had no idea how Kylen, or the rest of her family for that matter, would take the news: Colonel McQueen was leaving for California at 0800 tomorrow morning.

When they were seated at the Tavern, Allston remarked: "There are a bunch of places like this in Boston."

It was surprising how quickly McQueen felt the bottom of his stomach drop out - how much the remark bothered and disappointed him.

"I've never been to one, though," Allston said. "Have you, Kylen?"

"No, I haven't. Always wanted to, but never got around to it." Kylen beamed at McQueen, who instantly felt much better.

The dinner was a success. The food was good. Kylen and Bridee did love the costumes and the music. Frank and McQueen discussed the Revolutionary War, and Allston ate like a horse.

McQueen broke the news during dessert. It was met with silence.

Kylen put down her fork. Her first thought was: "I'll never eat pecan pie again."

"Tomorrow morning?" Bridee asked in clear distress and full adolescent protest. Frank placed a hand on her arm to bring her into check.

Kylen gave herself a little shake. "Months ago you told yourself that, as his friend, you would do what you could to make his plans and dreams come true. He wanted this. Now, put up or shut up." "Is it a good assignment?" Kylen asked with more calm than she felt.

"Better than I'd hoped," he said quietly, turning to look into her face. "No, it isn't the Saratoga, but it is much better than I'd hoped for," he thought. "I'll be working for General Wierick."

"He's the Supreme Commander of American Forces." Frank stated the obvious.

"Sounds pretty good to me," Allston interjected. "Wait 'til Marty Aalto Guilio hears about it. He thought you were hot stuff before this."

"He is hot stuff," Bridee protested.

"No one said he wasn't," Allston shot back.

"Enough," Frank warned. "Let's give Colonel McQueen a better memory than you two snapping at each other." He knew that when the kids got nervous they would take it out on each other. They had all begun to think of McQueen as their personal property. Dinner at the White House had impressed both of the younger children, but McQueen leaving had just driven the reality of war home in a way that speeches and ceremonies could not. "What will you be doing for the General?" he asked, trying to make conversation.

"Dad, he might not be able to tell us," Kylen said, mentally ticking off the different Marine bases she had learned were in California.

"Have you told Dale and Amy?" Frank asked.

"Not yet."

"But what about all your stuff? Your scarf and the mugs I gave you?" Bridee asked. "Aren't you going to go back up to Maine first?"

"I'm sure Dale and Amy will see to Colonel McQueen's belongings," Frank said.

McQueen had decided that he would call The Barn after he touched down in Twentynine Palms. They would find the wedding picture. It would mess up the truce he and Amy had built, but he didn't see how it could be helped. "It's time to put that thing away," he thought.

Kylen suddenly remembered the picture. She had already seen it, and

she had never understood it. She doubted that Six would want it made public knowledge, but Kylen already knew it existed.

"No," she said. "I'll go up and take care of things." Then she began to wing it. "I want to visit them before I start the new job anyway. I'll go up next Wednesday, and the Colonel can call and talk to them and let me know what he wants done with his things."

"You can use our attic," Allston said. The family turned and almost gaped at him: Allston was not known for his practical suggestions.

Frank was proud of his youngest son. "Excellent idea. Now, let's finish dessert, go back to the hotel, and then have a nightcap up in the Terrace Room."

All in all things could have gone worse. All in all it had gone pretty well. McQueen decided that General Green really knew her stuff.