"Welcome to Nebraska Mr. Fisher." The young man smiled broadly, as he gave them both a hand up into the army chopper.
The guys on board were all youthfully pleasant and Sam was reminded once again of his age and what Carly should really be looking for instead of playing with computers in a darkened office. Although Sam was still capable of performing his job, he was feeling his age today. Carly settled down on the bench next to him and buckled in, all the while keeping an eye or a hand on him as though she were afraid he might abandon her if she didn't keep a constant vigil. The one who had helped them into the transport sat opposite of them as the army chopper climbed in altitude. His Expression was genuine kindness yet some questions bubbled to the surface and Sam could see them in his eyes.
"What's your question Private?" Sam's voice was low so he wouldn't awaken Carly, who was sleeping with her head resting on his shoulder.
The Private looked at his feet and cleared his throat. "It's just that we don't…" A second man jabbed the Private in the ribs with his elbow. The first man's smile came back in full force. "The men and I don't get to meet anyone of real importance very often."
"And you think I'm someone of importance?"
Carly snuggled under his chin and although it wasn't unpleasant, he felt uncomfortable under the close scrutiny of these army regulars. He tugged her closer though and unconsciously threw an arm around her middle when she whimpered in her sleep.
"Yes sir I do." The Private said in an excited whisper, trying to hush his enthusiasm in respect for the sleeping girl. "Our unit was called on a special detail only once before and that was when the president landed in Omaha during the September eleventh thing."
Someone else spoke on Sam's right. "We're here on request of some bigwig in D.C."
"What the hell are you doing out here…..dressed like a navy seal too?" An older, much fatter, balding man walked down the center aisle. Intense dislike immediately replaced Sam's fondness towards these men. He had a pudgy sallow baby face that made Sam wonder how he had passed the physical requirements to become a soldier of any kind. "We weren't told anything but where to pick you two up. Beings as this is Nebraska and thousands of miles away from any oceans…what you doing in that frogman outfit?"
Sam wasn't sure what he could or should tell these men so he told them what Lambert had told him on so many occasions. "It's classified on a need to know basis."
The other man's jaw worked repeatedly tightening and relaxing. He clearly didn't like being left out of the loop, but there were just some things he wouldn't know in his chosen career in the military and he had to suck it up and follow orders. Sam couldn't blame him for feeling a bit perturbed, since he hated it when Lambert gave him the same bullshit answer. The young men who had been so curious, were doubly so now, but they knew procedure and became crestfallen and smiles fell to low beams. He nodded to himself and then dug through his pants pocket and came up with a crumpled pack of cigarettes.
"Want one? He offered Sam a choice of two broken and smashed Marlboro Menthols. "I've been trying to quit, but I just can't kick the habit."
"No thanks. I don't smoke." Sam declined with a shake oh his head and a wave of his hand. "I never took up that particular habit, myself."
"I started when I was eleven. That's fourteen years ago already." Sam had placed him around twenty-five years of age when he had first laid eyes on him. "I wish I had never picked up that first cig."
"I heard it's easier to quit while you're young." Sam did take a stick of cinnamon gum, when it was offered to him. "Both of my grandparents on my mom's side and my dad's side died of lung cancer. So it never had any appeal for me." He had no feelings bound to his words it was a simple statement given freely.
The younger man was silent for a moment, soaking in that information with a grim nod while lighting up his own cigarette and taking that first long drag on the filter. "Not only that, but the price on these things keeps increasing. My mom keeps telling me to quit and I could have an extra five hundred dollars at the end of the year." The kid as Sam now labeled him crumbled up the last of his cigarettes and stomped out the butt of the one barely puffed cigarette on the floor of the chopper. "No time like the present." Exhaling slowly as though he were actually going to quit smoking just then, he opened a stick of gum, folded it up three or four times, and stuffed it in his mouth with a satisfied sigh. "This sure tastes a lot better than menthol at least." He glanced towards Carly and with a worried brow and asked Sam a question. "Well your mission must have been tough? That little girl looks plain tuckered out."
That's how people saw her? "Yes." He had to admit it to himself as he examined her in her sleep. Carly St. John was everything he wasn't. She was the epitome of a nymph. Her fair skin was untouched by time. Lighthearted, she was unhampered by constraints of life and had boundless energy and a penchant for knowledge and technology. She could do things with a computer that made Sam squirm, knowing that she could possibly have such power. Truth be told, she was young, smart, pretty, and had a nation at her fingertips.
