Chapter 38 - Sacrifices

Lee, Roger and Saul returned to base. Numerous phone calls resulted in no information. Admiral Johnson was "unavailable." They knew that wouldn't change anytime soon. The men split up until morning.

Lee turned sullen. Rachael was gone. He accepted full responsibility for it, whether he bore it or not, and he didn't like the fact one bit.

At midnight, his phone rang. He picked up quickly, certain it was Rachael.

"Lee, I saw the news. Will you be home soon?"

"Um, yes, admiral."

"Sorry for calling so late."

"It's okay, sir. I'm happy to hear your voice"

"Been a tough week, lad?"

"Yes, sir."

"Will you be heading home soon?" We got those new contracts."

"Good work, sir. Yes. I suppose I'll head back tomorrow."

"You don't sound very happy about it. Want to talk?"

"It's . . . it's complex."

"Right, Lee, because I can't handle complexity."

"Not intellectually complex. Emotionally complex."

"I'm all ears."

"I can't just now."

"Okay, when you're ready, I'm here."

"Thanks, sir. It'll be good to get home. Back to normal."

Lee hopped into the shower. He headed to bed. As bone weary as he was, he still reached out expecting her there. Stupid, he self-chastised. Whatever had happened, he was headed back to his boat, his lady, at the end. Why should that bother him now? Oh yes, because Roger had waited. Rachael had waited. Too long. Both had been denied the futures they'd imagined and lost them. Lee also kept waiting. There was work to do. Adventures to be had. Only room for one steady lady. It was a choice. A lonely choice, it seemed at the moment, but one he'd rarely regretted. How long, he wondered, before that would change, before life would change things irrevocably? Was what happened with Rachael just pity? Sympathy? Or did Lee have wants and needs that he had deluded himself about? Did it matter? He didn't make the choice. Rachael did, by leaving. Without a word. Why did it bother him so?

Lee eventually drifted off to sleep. He awoke at his customary time and put the coffee on. He drank it alone. No one drifted in attracted by the smell. At 0700, Roger called.

"I'm heading back to D.C.. I've been reactivated."

"I guess that's good."

"More like a miracle after Randall Mattingly's confession."

"I was worried about that."

"Saul edited his official report a lot. He said Dick and Doris didn't even believe the nonsense that Randall had spouted. They told him they would never say anything about it to anyone. I made their daughter happy and that was all that mattered to them. Good folks."

"I hope they meant it."

"Hey, it's just one more ticking bomb in my file! I think I'm going to get to work on an exit strategy soon. In the meantime, a man needs to earn a living."

"You think Rachael's there?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I've been reactivated. Johnson wants to keep me close. Just in case, I suspect."

"Tell her . . . tell her that she has options."

"You are not an option. Rachael and I do not lie to each other."

"Roger . . . don't make decisions for us. Think about it, please."

"Okay. You were there for us. Went off a mountain for me, I suppose. I won't forget that, I promise."

"Don't. Keep in touch."

That was it. Lee headed home. His condo was fixed up like new. Many thanks were owed to Sharkey. The only flaw was how empty it seemed. Lee sat on the balcony nursing a beer for lunch. It wasn't even one of his. Sharkey left one over. It wasn't very good, but it was there. Lee hadn't the energy to shop, nor the incentive. Chip was coming over to take Lee to dinner, at Nelson's insistence, Lee suspected. Tomorrow and after he'd be at the Institute for meals. The pattern of his life would quickly resume. He felt at once reassured by that fact and also threatened. What would be there for him in three years? Five years?

He drifted off in the lounge chair watching the surf. He barely heard the doorbell. By the time he got there, the courier was gone. A thick manila envelope leaned by his door. Lee retrieved it. Inside was a videotape and another envelope. He emptied the package onto the coffee table. A small note fell out. "Curly, be more careful next time! XOXO."

Lee popped the videotape in as he sat on the couch and opened the envelope. Lee's hand came to his brow as he saw the tape. He stopped it. He didn't need to see more. He poured out the contents of the inner envelope. Stills of the video. Another note: "Thanks for everything, sailor."

How foolish he'd been. That club. The coke he'd bought for Screaming Mimi, the lines he'd pretended to snort. It was all caught on film, bereft of evidence of his innocent intent, and not catching his subtle disposal of the lines into his handkerchief and, later, the trash. He'd left himself wide open. Johnson didn't hesitate to use it. He'd used Lee against Rachael just as he'd used Roger. Lee hung his head in his hands. "I might as well be an amateur. Damn him!" Lee tossed a pillow at the T.V.. It didn't make him feel better.

Lee tried to see the positive. Rachael was accepting of Johnson, even forgiving. Maybe whatever she was doing was what she really wanted. Yeah, right. Lee didn't believe it. In fact, he began to doubt everything Rachael had told him about her relationship with Johnson that last day. It felt like a set up for this. She was doing whatever she needed to protect her friends. Cost had ceased to matter to her after what she'd experienced in Kuwait. But how could Johnson sink so low? Lee pulled out the videotape from its casing and tossed it along with the stills in the fireplace. He burned the reminders of his mistake although he felt confident others still existed.

Lee's thoughts ran wild for an hour. No solutions came to him. Roger had been right. Lee wasn't an alternative for Rachael in any kind of realistic way. It didn't stop Lee's aching for her sacrifice or for what he might have lost himself. At last Lee let it go. Thinking what might have been was never productive. He had his life, his friends. He'd go on unchanged. Okay, a little changed. Probably no one would notice in a week, even Lee. That made him feel a little sad again. Only Chip's arrival roused Lee out of his funk.

"You look wrung out. Want to talk about it?"

"No, I think I'd rather be distracted."

"Great. Let me tell you about those meetings in D.C. I had to sub for you in. Enthralling."

"You sealed the deal. Good work."

"I'd have rather mopped the poopdeck."

"We don't have a poopdeck."

"Which shows how desperate I became."

Lee smiled. "I missed you."

"Hey, at least you got lucky."

"How did you know?"

"Because you look so lost now."

"It's that obvious?"

"Yes."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Besides finding that mythical perfect sailor's wife? Beats me."

"You found a great gal."

"With a supportive family of her own plus my own gigantic clan to help, yes."

"I don't have the same playing cards, is that what you're saying?"

"That and you have more responsibilities. You aren't a shirker. You could work on that some, you know."

"I don't think your wife would appreciate it."

"There are others. We're getting older, Lee. The next generation has to learn to take over."

"Or be taken over."

"Let's not go there. It's been a while. I'm hoping those days are past. In fact, maybe we just imagined them."

"Maybe."

"Want to head out to dinner?"

"I suppose."

Lee let Chip carry the conversation for the evening: the meetings, the boat, another child on the way.

"Another blue-eyed blonde," Lee muttered. That somehow led Lee to imagine Rachael, her wild red hair flying as she held a small boy in her arms. Except in the next image there was a bleeding bullet hole in the child's back, the color of his blood clashing with Rachael's hair.

"Hey, where did you go, buddy?"

"No place good." Lee tried to shrug it off.

"I think what you need is sleep."

"I could stand to catch up."

Chip dropped Lee off at home. Lee headed straight for the bedroom, but a red blink from the answering machine caught his eye.

"Lee, it's Roger. I guess she's okay. I got an interesting package from her today. It was posted from D.C., so hopefully I'll track her down soon. There's not much question that she's back under his thumb. Call me soon."

"Hi Lee. It's Saul. I got a call from Ducky, Dr. Mallard that is. He ran into Rachael at Walter Reed. He knows her doctor and consulted. He thinks she's being treated appropriately. I asked him to keep an eye on her if he could. He seemed quite intrigued by the proposition. He's a good man for her to have in her corner, so I guess I'm suggesting that you shouldn't worry too much. Telling myself that at least. Anyway, thanks for all your hard work. I don't think she'd have made it through without all of us supporting her. I had hopes that I could convince her to break free of Johnson and come on board at N.C.I.S.. I think she'd be a great asset. I don't know that I'll ever get the chance, but well, if you have any opportunity to put a bug in her ear . . . well, you know what I mean. It was good to meet you and work with you. Don't be a stranger."

Lee left the messages on the machine. He'd listen again tomorrow for any nuances his tired brain might have missed. He peeled off his clothes, prepped for bed and quickly fell into a hard sleep clutching a pillow between his outstretched arms. When he woke in the same position, he felt sad that what lay between his arms was only a pillow.