by Jack Dayton
He opened the door of his room, pushing the door past the prone figure on the floor. Across the hall, the two Marines who had been racing each other a minute before looked over at the bloody gunnery sergeant and the figure laying at his feet.
“Gunny . . . Need some help?” The tall dark-haired Marine closest to the Gunny’s room asked.
“Not anymore,” Vance answered. “No, wait. Can you go down and get the Duty Officer and tell him I’m going to need him to call the Security Battalion?”
“Yes, sir, Gunny.”
Vance knew it would be awhile before he could hit the rack. “You got any coffee in there, Sergeant?”
“No, but we can heat some water in the microwave for instant.”
Vance frowned. “I’ll take it. Thanks.”
Chapter 20
“Well, that was fun,” Vance said to himself as he left Sergeant Major Cade’s office and walked down the hall past the Command Deck. He was back in Breckinridge Hall and his first stop was Sergeant Major’s office. It had taken an hour to recap the whole story, not counting the time Cade stopped for disapproving looks. Cade took notes, making him repeat key points for details. This was going up the line, that was for sure. The only good thing about it was Cade had let him know that all media would go through the Public Affairs Office. There had been some aggressive inquiries from somebody named Dacey Dunn at VisionNet. He was ordered not to respond to any inquiries, especially from her.
His next stop was Dr. Quinn’s office. He had talked to her when he had gotten back to Pike’s so she knew about the mess in Maryland but he hadn’t had a chance to update her on the Jordan Hall investigation. She was sitting at her desk when he got to her doorway.
“Oh my God, Gunny,” she gasped. She got up quickly and moved to give him a hug, refusing to let go. She finally pulled back. “You are a monster.”
“What? What’d I do?” Vance smiled at her now.
“Oh, shut up. You know what I’m talking about. Jordan Hall? What the hell?”
“I know, Doc. But you know how things get when a white supremacist decides he want’s to settle accounts. I was kinda busy.”
“Unbelievable. You have to tell me everything.”
“That might be tricky.” The gunny looked down at his boots. “This is all under review and I am officially prohibited from any discussion of the circumstances of the events of the last few days.” He squinted now. “Classified.”
“What bullshit. No. Not true.” She had that bulldog look now. “You tell this goddamn story right now.”
He smiled broadly. She was nodding. “I get it. I’m waiting for further questioning from NCIS myself. This is a mess, isn’t it?” Avery paused for a moment. “At least we know what happened with Guidry.”
“Yeah, we owed him that.” Vance paused before he returned to the prior mood. “Ma’am, I have to remind you that I cannot comment on . . . ”
“Okaaaaayy! Sheesh.” She smiled at him now. “I am grateful to see you here in one piece. I won’t even ask you about the stitches or the gauze.”
“That is advisable,” he returned. “I may have cut myself shaving.”
“Your arm . . . right.”
“Hey, let’s have lunch at the Clubs of Quantico to celebrate,” he asked, eyebrows raised in hopeful anticipation of a ‘yes.’
“You got it.” She turned to go back to her desk then. “Oh, Gunny . . . ”
“Yeah?” He was already turning to go to his office but looked back over his shoulder.
“It’s on me, okay?”
“Well, if that’s the case, let’s go someplace decent.”
Her loud “ha” was all he needed to make him feel back at home in the basement. He continued down the hallway. Ghost was standing outside his doorway, an ear-to-ear grin on his face.
“Gunny, you’re a hero! It’s all over Marine Corps Base Quantico! Heck, it’s even in the Washington Post.” Ghost crowed down the hall.
“Belay that. Don’t believe everything you read in the newspapers, Ghost.”
“Course not. But the stuff everybody’s sayin’ is still amazing.”
“Take it down a notch, Ghost. And no, I am not going to tell you anything about the Amazing Adventures of the Intrepid Gunny Vance, so let’s just get back to our duties, okay?”
“Yes, sir, Gunny. By the way, you got a call that you probably want to return.”
“Oh, yeah. Who from?”
“Lieutenant General Duval.”
“'Lion?’”
“Yup. You probably should check your voice mail but he called here and left a number just in case.”
Vance took the yellow post-it Ghost held out to him. Lieutenant General Leo ‘Lion’ Duval. Could this get any weirder, he wondered.
* * *
“Duval here.” Lieutenant General Leo “Lion” Duval’s voice rumbled through the phone line. Marine Corps leaders usually do not distribute their direct contact information to grunts but Duval was unique in more ways than one. He was as beloved as a general officer can get based on his insistence that the prime directive for his subordinate officers was to first and foremost take care of their Marines. He was noted for his Marines’ loyalty, bordering on idolatry. To be speaking directly to a general of his stature would be daunting enough but under the circumstances, Vance felt unprepared for what might ensue.
“Sir, this is Gunnery Sergeant Roscoe Vance. You wanted to speak to me?” Vance hoped he didn’t sound like a choir boy which is how he felt calling somebody so high up the hierarchy.
“THE Gunny Vance? Gunnery Sergeant of Marines Roscoe Vance? The Butcher of Jordan Hall? The Bad Ass of Beltway Seed Oil? Is it really you?” Duval’s rich Southern accent percolated with sarcasm.
“Sir, I am Gunny Vance, yes. I don’t know about THE.” Vance tried to make it sound like a joke hoping Duval’s storied sense of humor was engaged this morning.
“Well, I guess you’ll do, Gunny. I been readin’ about you all over the place. You get around pretty good now dontcha?”
Vance chuckled, unsure how to answer. “Sir, it’s like I tell the lance corporal, don’t believe everything you read.”
“Hey, now, you must be blushin’. The stories they’re briefing me on are pretty wild but overall, you have done yourself and the Marine Corps proud, Gunny.”
“Thank you, sir. Really I didn’t do anything that any other Marine wouldn’t have done in the same spot.”
“You might have called in the reserves sooner but I get that timing was a factor so we won’t make the perfect the enemy of the good here.”
“I appreciate that, sir. Nobody would ever suggest I was perfect, least of all me.” Vance was wondering where this was going.
“I wanted to talk to you, Gunny, because you may not have known this but I was well familiar with Major Lestat Guidry.”
Vance wondered if that was good or not.
Gen Duval continued. “You know he was Louisiana boy, I hope.” He pronounced it “Loosiana” like the native he was.
“Sir, I did. Major Guidry was a true son of New Orleans as he liked to remind me whenever possible.”
“As am I, Gunny. As am I. Guidry was a member of a close fraternity of Marines who call New Orleans home. He and I crossed paths often enough to recognize our mutual affection for NOLA and anyone who came from those blessed streets.”
“I did not know that, sir.”
“Well, it goes without saying that I was stricken when I learned of his loss, particularly the way it happened. I would’ve given anything to get my hands on the scoundrel who took his life but I am wholly grateful to you for taking on that task. It was justice for Major Guidry and peace of mind for his family and friends. For that I am particularly grateful to you, Gunny.”
“Sir, I had help from a bunch of people who cared about Major Guidry. Nobody wanted to get that lowlife more than we did. Gunny Pike and I were just lucky enough to be the ones who were in the right place at the right time to get it done.”
“Yes, Gunny Pik
e works down the hall from me so I am making sure he gets the appropriate attention.” The general went on. “I hope you don’t mind but I reached out to Brigadier General Casey and Sergeant Major Cade. They tell me that they are working on a full report. I know this may be a little early but I asked them to ensure that the efforts you made are recognized for what they were, part of your job. No reason for you to worry about your Command.”
“Sir, you didn’t have to do that but I do appreciate your efforts on my behalf. The report should fill in any gaps. I can assure you, whatever happens, I am happy we accomplished our goal.”
“I am, too, Gunny.” The General paused before going on. “Hey, now, one other thing. I think you could use some time off, Gunny. You are officially on leave until next week. As soon as I hang up, I’m gonna call down there and make sure it’s something the command is okay with. Check in with Sergeant Major to confirm the details but I want you to take some time, you read me, Marine?”
“Sir, loud and clear. Thank you, General.”
“No thanks necessary, Gunny. We owe you our thanks, am I clear?”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“Carry on, Gunny.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Duval out.”
The click on the receiver left Vance wondering if it was all real. Sergeant Major Cade’s call ten minutes later made it so.
Vance called Dr. Quinn and asked her for a rain check before packing up. First stop, the Fredericksburg flat above J. Brian’s. After that, it was Florida and Patsy and the girls. His eagerness to move was like a time machine now. He was stuck in the present but already moving so quickly to where he wanted to be it was like he was in two places at once. One quick call to give them a heads up and he would be gone.
* * *
He rolled up in front of the house at 0230. Unexpectedly, the front door was open and he could see through to the kitchen where the light above the kitchen sink was on. He got out of the car and stretched. Even at 34, you feel old after a 13 hour drive.
The moonlight reflected off the drive way giving the night a dream-like quality. The warm breeze off the gulf tugged him to the salt life. He closed the door quietly and walked around to the hatch of the Prius. It was then he saw her.
She was walking down the drive, barefoot, a white tank top and cut-off shorts. Her gold red hair was longer, past her shoulders now but the tank clung to her curves just the way he remembered. Vance turned as she moved deliberately toward him.
Her face was in shadow so he wasn’t sure. It had been a long time. He approached and finally he saw her, luminous now in the moonlight. Her blue eyes seemed to glow with the smile she gave him. He raised his hand to caress her face as a strand of hair blew across her cheek. He gently caught the stray with the tip of his finger and traced it back behind her ear.
She folded into his arms then. She was all warmth, softness, sweet scent washing over him. His breath caught in his chest as he embraced her. This woman was the reason to live, to come home. A gift he didn’t deserve but would never let go of.
She pulled back gently and raised her lips to him, the kiss lingering, prolonging the moment. He kept his eyes closed after she pulled away. Let this last forever.
She took his hand and he let her lead him up the drive to the porch where he drew her to him again. This time more intense, more urgent.
“Hey, you,” she breathed into him. “Welcome home, hot shot.”
“Did I tell you how great it is to feel your skin?”
“You didn’t have to, you nut.” They continued to the door. She held the screen door closed and turned back to him.
“The girls are up, you know. They were too excited to sleep anyway. They can’t wait to see you.”
Vance laughed. There was no disappointment at seeing his daughters. “Me, too. I can’t wait to see them.”
“After that, you need to get some rest,” she pointed her finger at him.
“Why is that?”
“I think you got a long drive ahead of you, Marine.”
“Do I? Where to?” He cocked his head, looking at her sideways.
“I think its well past time for a trip to NOLA. A few sazeracs are in order.”
“No argument from me.” She knew he had a weakness for New Orleans’ signature drink.
She opened the screen then, the familiar screech of the hinge a greeting he had been waiting for. “Besides,” she tossed over her shoulder, “it’s about time we checked in with Annie Guidry and the boys. See how they’re doin . . .” She flashed a wink at him as she took his hand and led him through the door.
“That’s my girl,” he said, winking back. “Good to be home, Pats,” his voice catching in his throat.
She stopped then and looked back at him, eyes brimming. She circled her arms around his neck now. “I know,” she exhaled a whisper. “I know.”