The End of the Beginning

Vega had the same container unit William had so it was a tight fit to have fourteen people and a dog over but they managed. Some sat in the bedroom, some in the kitchen, and some in the sitting room. Vinny was cooking the steaks in the oven that he had purchased off base to complete his steak and eggs dinner for the squadron. “I prefer my protein red, not cricket brown,” he often said.

William was very happy to be having a real steak for dinner as well.

“Those steaks ready, Mckay?” he called out to the kitchen.

“Not yet, sir. Still putting the rock salts on! Can’t get to medium without the sodium, sir.”

“Spoken like a true cook,” said Heather, who was helping him.

“It might go a little faster if Shampoo wasn’t taking up half the kitchen and staring at me,” grumbled Vinny. “Miller can you take Shampoo somewhere else, please?” In the sitting room was a game of Rummikub; a Jewish game Vega had played every day as a child. Herself, Simba, Mario, and Abeo were all playing. William, Amanda, Dao, and DJ were watching from the hallway, as the room was too narrow for all of them to fit in at once. Seong, Gaspard, Sergey, and Paul were in the bedroom watching a movie.

“So, the tiles have to be in numerical order or different colors or what Mini-boss? These tiny tiles hurt my head with their complexity.” “Both,” Vega showed. “You need three tiles in numerical order and three tiles of the same number, each with a different color. Once you have that then you can go down.” “Go down… where?” asked Simba.

“You put them on the table Mambiri. But they all must add up to fifty, first. That’s the way I play.”

“Oh, Bossman, we have to do math. What kind of party is this? Where are the drinks?”

Mario picked up one of the tiles and asked, “What is with the tiles with the faces?”

“Those are the jokers. They can stand in for any tile. They are worth a lot of points,” explained Vega. “Don’t get caught with one when someone finishes.” “Okay…”

Abeo was having no trouble. “You guys are going to lose. I win a lot with games like this.”

Mario put down his tile and blew his hair from his face. He was bored. “What? Little number games? We should go to the beach down in Coco or inland to Orlando. Get some drinks, dance a little, or party in the clubs. Ho sentito che le ragazze sono bellissime.” “Don’t you have a girlfriend back home?” William grinned.

“Did you understand me sir?” Mario asked with embarrassment. “I didn’t know you understo - ”

“I don’t,” laughed William. “I just guessed.”

Amanda shook her head. “You’re a dog, Niccolo. You’re a slobbering Neapolitan Mastiff.”

“If I’m a dog, then I’m at least better than yours because I actually find people on rescue missions. And I’m no Mastiff. My body type is clearly suited to the slender and agile Italian Greyhound.” Everyone let out a laugh.

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you may wanna check yourself on that one.”

Mario looked at William. “Hey, sir, speaking of women, I saw you checking out Captain Veeder yesterday. Those firefighting suits make her look good don’t they?” “No Niccolo, the only thing I’m checking out are those steaks.” William was so hungry. The smell coming from the kitchen was marvelous to his nose. “Mckay, the steaks?” “In the oven, sir! If it comes out bad it’s not my fault. Blame this convection oven crap. The proper place to do this is on a grill. I may have been good at putting fires out but I’m even better at starting them.” “It’s been months since I had one, Mckay. You better make them good!”

“Always try, sir.”

“Is this tile a nine or six, Mini-boss?” Simba asked Vega, twisting the tile in his hand.

“A nine, Mambiri…”

“Right, okay. Ohhh, boy, this game is going to kill me. It’s so weird.”

Heather overhead the conversation and came into the room from the kitchen. “I’ll tell you what was weird, my investigation interview. The base commander was there and so was ISAF’s head guy, Hernandez. That’s his name right?” “Yes, Patrick Hernandez. He is the bases chief of security, in charge of all Base Tranquility ISAF operations,” confirmed Dao.

“Right. He acted fine, but Hammond just seemed to want to focus on knowing what Samir had said before he jumped. I played dumb of course and said I didn’t know. It’s too bad about the drugs though. Hernandez said that was why he jumped. Overdosed on a mixture of synthetic amphetamines and hallucinogens. Made him go nuts.” “Drugs?” William said puzzled. Seong had said the same thing. That could not be. “I don’t think Samir was on anything Phillips.” “That’s not what they showed me. I saw the report. It definitely said overdose. Suicide of course, yes, but because of the drugs. That mixture is called bath salts and have been known to make people literally go crazy.” “Salts Boss, ohh no. Hey, Mckay, you better not be putting salts on those steaks, yeah!”

Vinny yelled from the kitchen, “Completely different thing, Mambiri!”

William shook his head. “I looked into the eyes of someone who was desperate, not crazy or overdosing. He was clean. I know it. Who else has had their interview besides Phillips? I know Jeon has had his as well.” DJ and Amanda raised their hands.

“What did they say to you?” William asked quizzically.

“The same,” quivered Amanda. “Hammond made me feel very uncomfortable. I thought she thought I looked suspicious because her questions started turning against me. I’m not the best of interviewees.” William felt himself getting angry. Samir, the man he held in his hands, was not on drugs. He was absolutely sure of it. That autopsy was wrong.

“Should we be… worried about this, sir?” said Abeo, breaking into William’s head.

“Oh… ugh… no Lawal.”

“But you say you do not believe them. What is the truth, sir? How did Mamedov die?”

William avoided Abeo’s question. “Let me worry about this. This is not your mess it’s mine. Go on with your interviews as you normally would. Answer their questions and be informative to the best of your abilities. That’s all I need you guys to do. In my interview I will get answers for us all.” Everyone was still anxiously quiet. “It’s okay guys. Come on, I want to know how to play this game. Let’s get it going! Play on!” And so the festivities continued. William got his steaks and they all learned the art of Rummikub. Heather passed out some homemade desserts. She served them with some tea and milk. Mario insisted they go off base to drink and party as alcohol on the base was prohibited. Too full, everyone voted to stay in their chairs and just talk. William, finishing some homemade cinnamon buns, walked into the bedroom at the end of the container and joined Seong, Gaspard, Sergey, and Paul, who were just finishing their movie.

“What are we watching, gentleman?” he asked the four.

“Star Wars, episode nine. These three haven’t seen it. Can you believe that, sir?” said his second sergeant, Paul Macom. Paul was a movie buff and had a collection on his glass tablet that nearly took up all of its memory space.

“Umm, I was trying to fix Europe’s water infrastructure network when this came out. I’m sorry, I was busy,” said Gaspard snootily.

“I’m not really into films, sir,” admitted Sergey.

“I was fi-fighting a war,” Seong said innocently and distracted, totally engrossed in the movie, not even really aware William had walked in.

“That’s a better excuse. It’s almost over, Captain. You’ve seen it, right?” asked Paul.

William put up his hands. “Guilty. I haven’t.”

Paul looked almost hurt. “Sir, this is the best movie of the twenty-first century. Get in here and watch this thing.”

“It’s okay, it’s almost over anyways, right?”

“Yeah but the ending is the best part. Just sit sir, please.”

William sat behind Seong on the bed, holding a glass of milk. “I only saw the - ”

“Shhh!” cutoff Seong, thinking Gaspard had spoken.

Paul’s face took on a nervous look. William waved his arm silently to brush the nervousness away. He smiled. Seong’s enthrallment with the film was almost sad to William. Seong, like himself, never had a normal upbringing. The Second Korean War had prevented it. His lieutenant frequently questioned with intrigue many of what most took for granted in life.

William just sipped his milk, happy that he could be there to not watch the movie but to watch this magnificent simple moment for his lieutenant. As the movie was reaching its climax the local news broke into it.

“What the hell is this?” Paul cried, both his arms flailing up.

“Oh… darn,” said Gaspard sarcastically. “It’s over.”

The screen turned red with flashing letters spelling out breaking news. The news anchor came on so quickly he was still fixing the microphone on his tie.

“Your regularly scheduled program will return in a moment but first, this breaking news out of China. Moments ago the Chinese government released a statement saying it had lost contact with two of its FC-31 stealth fighter jets and one Y-20 military transport aircraft that were on a routine training mission in the Gobi Desert in Northwest China. China is at the moment not saying what it believes happened to the aircraft but rumors within the country are placing blame on India. Both fighters were said to be fully loaded with live weaponry and the transport carrying several ground vehicles with at least forty soldiers as part of the exercise. The president has reached out saying the United States will offer any assistance necessary to help find the missing aircraft and men but the Chinese have not yet responded. This is the third disappearance so far of Chinese military aircraft in the last eight months in the Gobi Desert. We will be following this developing story as the night goes on. Now, we return you to your original programming. Thank you.” The movie resumed where it had been cutoff.

“Well, that’s a problem,” said Gaspard.