Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

He was on his second cup when Davila said, “You ever have a pickled pig’s foot?”

“What?” He almost choked on his joe. “I’m a good Jewish boy.”

“I take it that’s a no?”

“A definite negatory, good buddy. What brought that on?”

“This stuff.” Davila held up a deflated MRE pouch. “Says it’s beef stew with mixed vegetables. Smell reminds me of hunting trips with my brother. Can’t remember the brand name.”

“Dinty’s?”

Davila snapped his fingers. “That’s it. We always stopped off at this little backwoods place to load up on supplies.”

“The kind with a buncha older guys in rockers jawing around a big old pickle barrel?”

“Don’t you know it.” Davila ladled stew into a ceramic mug. “And jars of pickled pigs’ feet and pickled eggs. You ever try the eggs?”

“Took a hard pass on those, too. You?”

“It was…educational.”

“As in?”

“As in I never want to chew on an egg that’s been soaking in vinegar for ten years ever again.” Turning to the boy, Davila proffered a steaming mug. “Careful, kid, it’s…” He paused then said, “Daliachi.”

Brows knit, the boy cocked his head like the pup on an old RCA label then brightened. “ Goryachiy? Hawwt , Tez ? ”

“Yeah, hot.” Davila grinned down at the boy. “Didn’t I just say that?”

“Tez?” John said. “Next thing you know you’re going to ruffle his hair and say good boy .”

“Because he is a good kid. Like you said, he saved my life.” For a few beats, the only sounds were the scrapes of metal spoons, and then Davila said, “Got a question.”

“Shoot.”

“You never finished the story. So, did you and Captain Keller go AWOL with those guys? Did you get the kids out?”

“Let me put it this way.” John sipped coffee. “Roni’s bones are somewhere in these mountains. I ended up in Brighter Days. What do you think happened next?” Then he shook his head and blew out. “I’m sorry, man. That wasn’t fair. You asked a legit question. I just don’t know if I’m really ready to talk about that part. I didn’t do it at the after-action or Brighter Days either. What I did was give everyone a nice succinct, sanitized version as to why we came in hot.”

“Which wasn’t the truth.”

“No. Not the mess of that whole…” He made a vague gesture. “Megillah, operation, retrieval, whatever you want to call it. I don’t know if I ever want to talk about how that went down.” He let a beat slip then added, “How bad it got.”

“For you?”

“For everyone, man, for everyone.” Maybe that cockamamie mission had been doomed from the start for him, Roni, Driver… Jesus, Meeks and Flowers, that crazy Flowers … “You know how they say it in romance novels? Happily ever after? HEA? Well, no HEAs for us, man.” He pushed to his feet. “Battery’s almost drained on the bat phone. I’m going to go down to the van, plug them both in, juice ’em up. Keep praying someone’s going to respond. I’ll check the road, too,” he added, heading for the door. “If you’re stable for another couple of hours and now that the weather’s cleared, we have to get you out of here, drive back to Dushanbe and some decent care. Some IV antibiotics for that arm. You going to be good with Matvey while I’m gone?”

“Oh, yeah, me and my little buddy will be just fine, won’t we, Matvey?” He gave the kid’s head a knuckle-rib and grinned as the boy giggled. Then, with no change of expression, Davila said, “We have to figure out what to do about him , too.”

“Yeah. But not this second,” John said. “Until then, one disaster at a time.”

“Don’t I know it,” Davila said, still smiling at the boy. “Take your gun, John.”

This time, he did, without an argument or snappy comeback. Later, he would think that Davila must’ve had some premonition. But maybe that’s what happened to a man as close to death as Davila had come, toeing right up to the edge of his grave.

Maybe a man who had come back from that could smell trouble coming.