As she leads him back towards the mess hall, Steve starts to feel really hungry. He realises leaving, before, was a stupid thing to do, but he couldn't help himself – he was not ready to face her, then. He's not really sure he's ready to face her now, but time's up, and there are no more distractions to fall back upon. Catherine takes Steve to a KFC almost exactly the same as so many he's been in before, but with a decidedly Arab flavour in the menu and décor. He couldn't care less, it'll do. They order their food and go sit at a sturdy table in a badly lit corner, across from a large window that gives out to the dusty and empty street. Again, it's Catherine's turn to open the hostilities and she's not shy about it.
"So, tell me, how have you been, since Montana?"
"Perfect," Steve says, eyeing her attentively, trying to dismiss her real question. But she's having none of it, now that they are away from prying eyes and ears.
"Steve… come on. Tell me. If nothing else, your mental status is important for this mission", she says, lightly smiling, trying to keep her request casual.
"Is that the CIA asking, or my friend Catherine?" Steve retorts, and she's not sure if he's taking it lightly or getting annoyed at her prodding.
"Your very good friend Catherine", she assures him again, firmly.
"What, don't tell me the Spy-I-A doesn't have access to such mundane information…?" and again, he seems serious.
"Fine, I give up", Catherine says, exhaling amusedly and smiling. "Let's bypass information about you. How's Mary? You never told me how she was doing, when we were in Montana?"
"To answer your question, I'm fine. I've made peace with Joe's passing. I think having had the chance to avenge his death helped a lot", Steve tells her, calmly. "I'm sorry, it's still a touchy subject that I don't share with a lot of people."
"I'm not a lot of people, now, am I?" she says, smiling.
"No, you certainly are not", Steve exhales, looking her straight in the eye. "You sure aren't."
He can tell Catherine is embarrassed at his intense look and decides to change the subject.
"Mary's fine, still living in L.A., raising Joan who is now 6, can you believe it?"
"Oh, my God! Six? Time goes by so quickly!"
"Yeah… time's a harsh mistress. And one day you wake up and don't know what you did with it. Don't know what it is that you have achieved," and now, he's mostly talking to himself, eyes distant.
"Steve… stop it with the negativity, will you? You of all people, who have achieved so much!"
"I'm so wistful about so many things these days, Cath… sort of like needing to be remembered why I do the job, you know? At some point, we start to question ourselves, is it all worth it? You know, giving up our personal lives, health, family time…" He then smiles sweetly, reminiscing. "When I saw you at the mess, today, I was just thinking about an evening at home when you sarcastically offered to put on your cammos…"
"I remember", she says, amused. "Preferring MREs to my Grandmother's ragu! The nerve!" she says, laughing.
"I was so happy, then, and didn't even realise it… Unfortunately, we never did get to play out the foxhole fantasy, now did we?" he says, amused, smiling at her.
"Steve, what's gotten into you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are you taking stock of your life, or something? I'm getting a very nostalgic vibe from you," Catherine says, slightly alarmed, looking him straight in the eye and lowering her voice, reaching for his hand in a show of support.
Her electrifying touch is so sudden, Steve's startled by it, making him pull his hand away discreetly, busying himself with a chicken drumstick. He's suddenly struck by how much he still wants this woman in the biblical sense, and her nearness is unsettling. The action does not escape Catherine's notice and she sighs, sad that their friendship hasn't managed to resume its original status, ignorant of what is going on. She smiles awkwardly and removes her hand from the table too, as if burned, not knowing what to do with it and finally deciding on her lap. As silence descends upon them, Catherine decides it's time to get their heads back on the mission ahead and leave the personal stuff for later. There's always a chance that someone may not come back alive, and she'll be damned if it'll be him. She knows she simply wouldn't be able to live through it.
"OK, let's agree on a strategy for our foray into town. How do you want to play it?"
"You tell me, you know the way of the land around here, I don't. Do you have informants, people we can get intel from?" Steve says, reclining in his sofa and closing his eyes, thoughts of Hawai'i now forgotten.
"Yes, though in doing it, they risk being murdered by the Taliban. So we go in, find out about living conditions, school attendances, new land mines, complaints…"
"Sort of a covert reconnaissance mission, under the guise of social welfare."
"Exactly," Catherine smiles. "And then we ask the villagers the questions we want to know. So that's how we'll play it today. We should get going, they all go indoors after around 1700 hours, because the cold here can really freeze you solid. That's the best time to catch up with them."
"When in Rome…", Steve says, amused again, mind back on the mission.