Da Nang, South Vietnam, 1969

He wanted to hate Winston Mayer. He really did. But Colonel Bunsen sensed his animosity from the start; and partnered Charles with Winston.

Yet, although outwardly Charles maintained his dislike of Winston, internally he was beginning to enjoy the man's company. Winston was smart, a quick thinker; and shared many of the same life views and values as Charles.

Plus there was nothing like almost getting killed on a daily basis to bind two men like brothers.

"I'm gonna make colonel one day!" Winston told him one rainy evening cramped together in a muddy dugout. "What about you? What's your dream?"

Charles shook his head, "I don't have a dream. I only have a goal. I already know what I'll become."

Winston smiled at him, "And that would be?"

"President."

Winston blinked and then burst out laughing in that way of his. "President of what?"

"The United States, of course. Why do you think I'm out here in this fucking place? It's not because I want to be a soldier all my life! There's nothing voters like more than a president, who served his country during wartime."

Winston laughed heartily; and patted Charles on the back. Charles liked it. He'd never really had a close friend before and he liked the feeling of camaraderie Winston so easily created.

"You know Charles?" Winston said. "I believe you."

Charles thought it funny he should be thinking about that now. Maybe it was because this night was so very similar; that same thin rain that soaked you through; the two of them huddled in another dugout.

"Bravo Oscar One. This is Papa Ex-ray. Come in, over."

Winston and Charles stared at each other, panic growing.

Why aren't they answering?

Their unit was interspersed around base camp. Their job was to intercept any enemy attempts to attack. But for a whole five minutes, they'd been unable to contact any of the other dugouts.

"Do you have movement at this time? Over." Winston tried again.

"They're sleeping," Charles suggested. "They must be sleeping."

"Or the radio's broken?" Winston asked.

Charles shrugged, looking out into the damp darkness.

"Bravo Oscar One! Come on! Somebody talk to me. Did you idiots fall asleep or something? Over."

Winston was silent for a moment, still holding the radio to his lips, until eventually making a move.

"What are you doing?" Charles asked.

"I'm going to check it out!"

"The hell you are!" Charles insisted. "Our orders are to stay put!"

"You call the CO… tell them what's going on out here. I'm going to wake those boys up!"

Charles watched as Winston crouched low to the ground and disappeared into the night.

Shit!

He hated being on his own.

Quickly, he radioed the situation in to HQ, explaining that things didn't seem right and Mayer had gone to investigate. Then he lay low, waiting in the dark, listening to the rain falling on the dense forest leaves. His own breathing sounded really loud to his ears as he held his rifle tight and close.

Then the gunshots started. Hundreds of them.

"Marsden get out of the hole! Get out! Get out!"

He heard Winston's shouts before he saw the man, running like the wind with flashes of ammunition fire following on behind him. A few bullets ricocheted close to Charles' head. He didn't wait for further instruction. He flung himself from the hole just as a grenade detonated inside, blowing the dug out into a pile of mud and smoke.

For a moment, he was deafened and confused, laying flat on the ground with his hands over his head. His body was numb with fear and he couldn't move. It was Winston's hands pulling him that eventually got him running. But no sooner had he stood back up, when he felt the bite of a bullet hit him squarely in the back.

"Aaargh!" he screamed in shock and dropped to his feet.

Winston turned back instantly, without thought for himself, gathering Charles up as best he could, and helping the man past the US barricade. Soldiers there scurried into action, defending the camp from the invaders and providing the fleeing soldiers with cover.

"Medic!" Winston yelled in Charles's ear. "Medic!"

They were the only two surviving soldiers from Bravo Company Twelve.

…

Branson, Missouri, Mayer Residence, 2007

Nearing 60, Charles was proud that he could still jog a few miles without growing tired. But he was damn near dead by the time he caught up with Winston back at the house; already stretching and sipping water from a bottle.

"Slow, coach!" Winston teased.

Gasping for breath, Charles bent over double and coughed from the effort of the run. "Bastard! We can't all be perfect athletes you know?"

Winston laughed. "You bet! Just like we can't all be president!"

Charles stood tall, smiling and taking the water bottle as Winston offered it to him.

"I'm proud of you, Charles! You always said you would do it and now… you're almost there! One day soon I'll be best friends with the President!" Winston grinned. "Does that mean I get a ride on Air Force One?"

Charles chortled. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, friend. It's not a done deal yet! I've still got a few years to go before I can make the attempt! Maybe if I had your looks and my brains I'd already be at the top… But alas, I'll have to convince the voters some other way."

"Anyway…" Winston began, taking a wide-legged seat on the porch step. "What's up with this little visit Charles? Not that I'm not glad to you see you and everything. But what brings you way out here to Branson?"

Charles sat down beside his friend. He would have to proceed with caution. Winston was sharp. He'd smell a rat from a mile away. "I heard you requested a transfer to Oakdale?"

"That's right," Winston confirmed, taking another sip of water. "I noticed they're undergoing similar research to the work you've got me doing here. I figured I could go out there and kill two birds with one stone."

"Oh?" Charles asked, eyebrows rising with interest. "What's this other bird?"

"My son."

"Noah? What's Noah got to do with anything?"

Winston sighed, his face frowning with profound disappointment. "The boy doesn't want to join the army, Charles."

"Really? That's odd for a kid who's been so immersed in the life."

"Wants to be a film maker!"

Charles eyes widened even further. "Well, who would have thought?"

"Not me! Must get it from his bitch of a mother! He's just like her! Head stuck in the fucking clouds!"

"And Oakdale?" Charles asked, ignoring that comment. There was an unspoken agreement between them never to discuss the 'incident' that saw Winston's wife, Charlene, forced out of the marital home. It was with Charles' help that Winston was able to perpetuate Noah's belief that his mother died when he was three. Where she actually resided, was anybody's guess.

"Well, I told him I would only fund this crazy idea of his, if he joined the army for at least a year."

"And?"

"He ran off behind my back, if you can believe that! Got himself a fully-funded scholarship at Oakdale University. He's determined to go through with this no matter what I say." Winston shook his head. "I don't know Charles… The boy's never defied me like this before. Did I tell you he came back to Branson on a so called 'work' assignment and forgotto let me know? I had to find out from one of my lieutenants!"

Charles patted Winston's back. "It's most likely just a phase. Kids do have them I hear!"

Winston nodded. "I guess. But still, I'd like to move out there. I can keep an eye on him and hopefully talk him back to the military. It's where he belongs."

Charles nodded but inside he was squirming. If Winston discovered the true reason for all of the research Charles had him doing in Branson, Charles dreaded to think what the man would do. Winston was the quintessential soldier; honest, upstanding. Rules, and therefore the law, were to be followed to the letter.

If Winston got wind of any wrong doing; no matter Charles's reasons; the senator couldn't count on his friend to back him up. Not with something like this.

But sitting there sweating beside Winston, Charles knew without a doubt that there was nothing he could now do to stop that from happening.

"You look worried, Charlie," Winston observed. "Don't be. I'll sort things with Noah. He's my son after all."