"Good work today Third Platoon," Lieutenant Parker said as they climbed onto the trucks that would evac them back to the airfield. "Let's go home."
Those two words—"go home"—resonated differently in Linda's mind now. Home wasn't just a place anymore. It was a person.
"For now," Takeshi Satomura said under his breath as he took his seat.
Next to him, Dawkins looked over. "What do you mean?"
"The cartels... they're like the yakuza back home," Takeshi said. "Yes, they are illegal. Yes, they are criminals. They do bad things to many, many good people. But they still exist. We took out a building today, and many soldiers. But the bosses are still out there. Which means we'll be back in six months, or next year."
"But—"
"He's right, Dawks," Linda said sadly, pressing a hand gently to her bruised chest. "The problem is, the local government is seen as either inept, or just as evil as the cartels. So until the locals are ready to pick the government and the law over the cartels... they'll just reform and come back."
She leaned back in her seat, allowing herself to think of Brutus, of getting back to him. For the first time, the prospect of future missions came with a new kind of tension, not fear, exactly, but awareness of what she now had to lose. What she had to live for.
"You asked about foreign language learning earlier, right?" she continued to Dawkins. "The entire fire team might as well start working on your Spanish. You're going to need it."
As the truck bounced along the rough road, Linda gazed out at the tropical landscape blurring past. She'd return to this hellhole if duty called, but for now, she was going home. To Brutus. To something she'd never had before—a future beyond the next mission.
16
BRUTUS
“So you’re feeling better?” Dr. Caster asked, sitting back in his chair.
“I do,” Brutus said gratefully. “Minicamp went well, even if I was distracted. Our new linebackers coach is a former rival, but a friendly one. So we’re able to be chill in our roles since we were friendly but not buddies.”
“Establishing power structures is a key element for many relationships in a sport like football,” Caster acknowledged. “But I suspect that you’re not feeling better because of minicamp.”
“No, and I might need to cut this session short,” Brutus replied. “Linda’s coming home today. She was able to tell me that much, which I’m grateful for.”
“That’s not always a given in the military. If it was, there wouldn’t be all those surprise reunion videos on YouTube.”
Brutus nodded, laughing softly. “True. I guess what they do isn’t available for public oversight, but they’re able to tell us when they’re coming home.”
“You’re not officially a dependent however,” Caster pointed out. “How’d you hear?”
“A text message from the wife of one of the soldiers. Apparently someone gave her my phone number, and she reached out to me. Normally I’d be pissed about my personal number being handed out like that to someone I don’t know. In this case, not so much.”
“I see. How did you feel while Linda was gone?”
Brutus shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. “Scared. I’ve always been the one taking the risks, not the one sitting on the sidelines. I told JT the same thing, sort of. Said the shoe’s on the other foot this time.”
“JT sounds like a smart man,” Caster said. “Should I be jealous you’re seeing another therapist?”
“Hardly, he’s the new linebackers coach.”
Caster chuckled softly. “I see. Well, coaches and bartenders can often act as therapists in some ways.”
“Don’t worry Doc, I plan on still talking to you until I’m certain of this… change in me.”
“I’d like to talk about that change if you’ve got the time,” Caster said. “I’m curious.”
Brutus checked the clock on the wall, and nodded. “Yeah, for a few minutes at least. But then I’ve got to get on the road. I don’t want to be late for Linda’s return.”
* * *
Standing in the parking area outside the barracks, Brutus felt no embarrassment at all as he saw a couple of other people waiting for the return of Charlie Company. He practically bounced on his toes as he waited in his Bluecats warmup jacket and jeans, waiting for the ‘bus,’ the series of vans that would bring the members of Charlie Company back to the company area from the nearby airfield.
