The Target

Chapter 30

Don’t ever let me in a room with that man again, because only one of us will come out alive,” said Reel. “And it won’t be him.”

They were back in the States and in Robie’s apartment.

“I don’t want to be in the same building as the guy, much less the same room,” said Robie as he moved around the kitchen making them a meal.

Reel poured a fresh cup of coffee and leaned against the sink, watching him maneuver pots, pans, and dishes.

“You get domestic much?” she asked.

“I live alone. I can’t eat out all the time. My repertoire is limited, but it fills the bill.” He held up two boxes. “Pasta or rice?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I haven’t seen any food go down your throat for about forty-eight hours. How can you not be hungry? It wasn’t like they overfed us at the Burner.”

Reel sighed resignedly. “Pasta.”

Robie heated some water in a large pot.

Reel said, “You know this is going to blow up into some huge international incident.”

“Probably,” said Robie as he looked in the pantry for some marinara sauce.

“And they’ll probably send us out again to clean it all up.”

Robie found the sauce and then tossed her a loaf of hard bread. “Get a knife, cut this loaf into small sizes, and take out your frustrations. Pretend Evan Tucker has been magically transformed into olive bread.”

While she was cutting, Reel said, “To hell with it. If they ask, I’m not going to do it. Are you?”

“Depends on what they ask and who’s doing the asking.”

He poured the noodles into the boiling water and then cracked open a bottle of wine and pulled two glasses from a cabinet. He poured the wine and handed one glass to Reel while he took a sip from the other and started cutting up some vegetables.

“What I know,” began Robie, “is that DD Marks told us to stand down and gave us time off. And I, for one, can use it. I’m too old for the Burner Box crap they pulled. And you’re not that much younger than me.”

“In dog years I’m far older,” pointed out Reel. “And that’s what I feel like, a dog. An old, washed-up dog.”

Robie finished cutting the vegetables and then began to sauté them in a heated pan that was on the cooktop. He took a sip of wine and glanced toward the window where outside the rain was bucketing down.

“General Pak said don’t let them hurt his family.”

Reel nodded. “Right. In North Korea it’s guilt by association. The labor camps over there are all based on that. If Mom and Dad get arrested and sent there, so do the kids. That way they cleanse the generations of ‘undesirables’ or whatever bullshit term they use.”

“I know that. But I checked Pak out. His wife is dead. He’s over seventy, so I assume his parents are probably dead. And he has no kids.”

“Brothers and sisters?”

“Not that I could find. The briefing said he was an only child.”

Reel drank her wine down and poured another glass. “I don’t know, Robie. That is odd. Speaking of family, what about Julie?”

“She’s not my family.”

“Close as you’ve got, I’m thinking.”

“I haven’t talked to her since before we left for the Burner Box.”

“Time off, like you said. You should hook up with her.”

“And why do you care?”

“I like to live vicariously through people more normal than I. Which is basically everyone on the planet, present company excluded.”

Robie checked his watch. “How about we invite her for dinner? You watch the food, I go get her.”

“You’re serious?”

“Why not? She really seemed to like you.”

Reel took a sip of her wine and studied him. “You think?”

“Actually, I know. She told me she thought you were cool.”

Reel considered this and then glanced at the cooking food. “I suck in the kitchen. How about you call and I go get her while you play domesticated?”

Robie smiled and tossed her his car keys. “You’re on.”

Julie was available and Reel picked her up outside her town house in Robie’s car.

She slipped into the passenger seat and looked at Reel. “So you guys survived wherever it was you went?”

“Actually the jury’s still out on that.”

Julie put on her seat belt as Reel drove off fast. “Any fresh wounds?” she asked.

Reel said, “Only on the inside.”

“Those hurt the worst.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“So how is Robie?”

“He’s glad to be back,” replied Reel.

“I’ve been watching the news for any global catastrophe so I might find out where you were.”

“And?”

Julie shrugged. “And none seemed to match you two.” She gazed out the windshield at the pouring rain. “You and Robie seem tight.”

“We are. Or as tight as someone can be with him.”

“Do you have anyone else you’re tight with?” asked Julie.

“Used to. Not anymore.”

“Because they’re not around anymore?” asked Julie.

“Something like that.”

“Robie really respects you. I can tell.”

“I would imagine there aren’t many who he does respect,” replied Reel.

“I bet you’re the same.”

“We trained together, Robie and me,” said Reel. “He was the best, Julie. I always thought I was, but I have to admit, he’s better.”

“Why?”

“The intangibles. On the big stuff we’re equal. Even he would agree with that. It’s the small stuff, though, where I fall behind. Sometimes I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“That only means you’re human. I wish Robie would let that happen to him more often. He keeps it all inside.”

“Which is exactly what we’re trained to do,” Reel pointed out.

“A job isn’t everything, is it? It’s not your whole life.”

“Some jobs are. Our jobs are; at least mine used to be.”

“And now?” asked Julie.

Reel glanced at her as she steered the car through the wet streets and over a bridge into D.C.

“Maybe I’m starting a transition phase.”

“Into another job, or retiring?”

“Retiring? How old do you think I am?” Reel chuckled, but Julie’s expression remained serious.

“Robie told me you don’t retire from the sort of work you two do.”

Reel glanced at her again. “He did?”

Julie nodded.

“Well, then it must be true. I’ve never known Will Robie to bullshit.”

Julie put a hand on Reel’s arm. “But you can make it true. You can be the first to do it.”

Reel stared out the window at the storm that had come in from the Ohio Valley earlier and looked like it wanted to stay a while.

“I’m not sure I’m a good candidate to be a trendsetter.”

“Really? I think you might be the perfect choice.”

“You don’t know me that well,” said Reel.

“So why did you come and pick me up and not Robie?”

This question caught Reel off guard. “He…he was making dinner and I’m a crappy cook.”

“So it was his idea for you to come get me?”

“No. I mean, yes. I might have suggested—”

Julie continued to study her. “So you wanted to talk to me alone? There’s no crime in that.”

A few moments of silence passed.

Reel said, “Robie told me about you. How you…”

“Made a transition to a new life?”

“You’re way too perceptive for your age.”

“I’m a lot older than I look.” Julie tapped her chest. “In here. You get that. I know you do. You’ve had shit in your life. And I’m not just talking with your job. I mean when you were my age, younger. I can tell. I just can. It was like me, right?”

Reel turned down a side street, pulled to the curb, and put the car in park. “Robie told me you were super smart and had been through hell, but still, how can you tell?” she asked quietly. “I play my cards close.”

“It’s in your eyes. It’s in your skin. It’s in how you walk. It’s in how you talk. I see it all over you. And I bet you see it all over me.”

Reel slowly nodded. “You see, Julie, it’s just that…” She couldn’t seem to make the words come out. It was like a hand was around her throat.

Julie gripped her arm and squeezed. “It’s just that you’re scared. I know you’re brave and can probably take down twelve guys at one time.” She paused. “But you’re still scared because you’re wondering if this is all there is for you.”

Reel was nodding before she finished.

Julie said, “I can’t answer that for you. But you can, Jessica Reel. You can.”