Pick Up the Pieces

by Kelly Utt

  I’m on a singular mission right now. To find my Uncle Liam. I remind myself of the facts: he’s missing and presumed dead behind enemy lines in Syria, and no one is looking for him. It’s time to formulate a plan. I must. I’m in nearby Afghanistan. I have to find a way to get back into Syria and look for my uncle. Colonel Becker wants me for a second mission. That’s my best option for getting to Liam. I have to appear well enough to go on that mission, and I have to get up and around ahead of time so that I can figure out how to redirect our team to the site of the first raid along the way. I’ll probably need at least one other person willing to help me. I’m not sure I have the strength to do it alone. At a minimum, I need someone to divert attention and buy me time. It’s probably easiest to go look for Liam after the second raid is finished. That way, the pressure is off. Colonel Becker and Colonel Winton will have the intel they need at that point. They’ll be more forgiving of an extra stop to try and save American lives.

  Ideally, one of the helicopter pilots will help me. Or maybe the CIA agent on this mission, Frida Price. She seemed like she might be agreeable to something like this. She strikes me as someone who is willing to do whatever it takes, even if that means bending the rules.

  “Ava?” I ask, unsure whether the doctor is still here. She doesn’t respond. “Ava!” I try, louder. Nothing. Good.

  I sit up in my bed slowly, my head and my shoulder injury throbbing in sync. My God, this hurts. I have to get moving though. If Ava has finally left me alone, that’s positive news. I need her out of my hair so I can think. I don’t have time to be psychoanalyzed right now. Liam doesn’t have time for that. I have one shot at this while traveling with military special forces. One chance to find Liam and bring him home alive. Otherwise, hope is lost. I’ll never get back into Syria as a civilian. No way. Not even with the financial resources I have at my disposal. It simply isn’t possible in the current political climate. Syria is off limits.

  My whole body aches as I swing my legs around the side of the bed and place them on the floor. I push through, anyway. Pain doesn’t matter right now. There will be time to heal later. Right now, I have to find Liam, at all costs. I’m hooked up to an IV. It only takes me a minute to remove the port from the top of my hand. I wince as the needle drags across my tender skin. But it doesn’t matter.

  I look down at my clothing. I’m wearing a hospital gown. I’ll need to be dressed and presentable if I’m going to convince Colonel Becker that I can handle this mission without a babysitter. Unfortunately, I’m not sure where they’ve put my bag. I assume the clothes I wore on the last raid had to be cut away when they treated my gunshot wound. But I had a second uniform that Senior Airman Mark Puckett gave me at Nellis. It was in my bag. My first task is to find it. I rub my temples with my good hand and tell myself to focus.

  There’s a large chest of drawers across the room and underneath a small television. Maybe someone put the contents of my bag inside the drawers. It’s the most likely scenario since I don’t see any other furniture or closet in the room. Holding onto the bedrail, I push a button to slowly lower it. Once down, it allows me unimpeded access to stand. If only it were that easy though. My body doesn’t want to cooperate with my imperative. But that doesn’t matter either. I can do this. I have to do this.

  Using all my might, I stand. My legs threaten to fail me, but they don’t. I’m pleased when they hold. I take a big, deep breath, testing my limits. The air catches against my shoulder injury. It doesn’t seem like the injured shoulder will let me get a full breath.

  Okay. Fine. Good to know. I can work around it. I picture Liam’s friendly face in front of mine as I move. He motivates me to keep going. If the tables were turned, Liam would stop at nothing to find me and bring me home safely. I know that.

  I take a step. It’s a small, simple movement, but it feels like a herculean effort. When I’m certain my balance is solid, I take another step, holding my good arm out from my side as if I’ve been pulled over for drunk driving and told to walk a straight line. I proceed one step at a time until, finally, I reach the chest of drawers. I lunge for it, eager for its help to support my weight. When my hand touches the smooth wood and it helps hold me, I sigh with relief. I tilt my head back and say a prayer of thanks. This shouldn’t be a big deal, but it feels like it is.

  I’ve heard people who have gone through physical therapy talk about this kind of thing. I once had a buddy at Nellis who had cut the main nerve and the main artery in his wrist clean through in the line of duty. He described the process of regaining use of his hand as like moving mountains. I remember thinking he was exaggerating when he talked about how the slightest movement of his little finger took tremendous energy to accomplish. Now I see that he was telling the truth. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. And it’s just a shoulder injury. I can’t help but wonder if this is how Ali feels after the wreck and being pinned in the Odyssey.

  Ali. Focus.

  I’ve got to rescue Liam so I can get home to Ali and the others. Roddy may not be able to find Ethan without my help. A hot tear springs to my eye. I let it fall down my cheek, but I tell myself to stop the waterworks there. This isn’t the time to get overly emotional. This is a time for action.

  I gather my strength, then lean down and open the drawers, one by one. There are eight total. It hurts me to bend, but I carry on, checking each drawer for the contents of my bag. Most are empty. By the time I’ve looked through six of the eight, all I’ve found is a spit pan, a couple of clean gowns, and a plastic pitcher. I’m rummaging through the contents of the sixth drawer when a male nurse comes in the room.

  He’s stout. I vaguely remember him from yesterday. Or whatever day that was when I first woke up here. I can’t be sure what day that was. He’s pale skinned with white blonde hair. He’s the guy who told Ava he heard me talking to Miss Tessa when she wasn’t here in the flesh. I remember that much because it got me in trouble with Ava. It made her scribble down notes as if she had found me out and was ready to turn me in to some authority as certifiable insane. Dr. Epstein-- Joe-- would have joined her back when he and I first met. I’m glad he came around to my side. It’s much more pleasant that way.

  “You’re awake,” the guy says softly.

  “Yeah,” I say, doing my best to sound strong. “Feeling good. Just looking for my other uniform.”

  He cocks his head to one side, apparently confused. “What do you need that for?”

  “Didn’t they tell you?” I ask. “Colonel Becker and Colonel Winton requested me for a second mission. I’m to report for duty tonight. They need me to gather more intel. It’s… Well, it’s classified. But it’s important.”

  I don’t mention Liam. I don’t plan to mention him to anyone except the people I think might help me save him.

  The nurse purses his lips as I glance down at his name tag. It reads Adam Negley. He’s shorter than me by several inches, but he looks strong. The kind of strong that comes from hard work. I wonder if he grew up on a farm. He instantly irritates me. Maybe because of what he said to Ava. Or maybe it’s just his face. In the Air Force, nurses are commissioned officers, meaning this guy has at least a bachelor’s degree and has demonstrated his proficiency in his field. He isn’t a low level hack, no matter how much he might look like one.

  “Adam, is it?” I ask.

  “That’s right. I’m sorry, Major Hartmann. You’re not going anywhere. You haven’t been cleared for discharge yet. Far from it. You can barely bend to reach that drawer. Just look at yourself.”

  My pulse quickens. That can’t be. Liam needs me.

  “No, I can do it,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “Sir, respectfully,” Adam says, “you can’t.”

  My blood begins to boil, piping hot inside of me. Before I can say anything I might regret to this young nurse, there’s a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” Adam says, keeping an eye on me. He can tell I’m getting angry.

  A familiar face walks in. “H
ey, there,” the young man says. “How can I help?”

  He’s about Adam’s age. Both look to be in their mid-twenties. I recognize this guy, for sure. It takes me a minute, but it comes back to me.

  “You’re Senior Airman Barney McCombs,” I say. “You were the loadmaster on the flight here.”

  “What?” Adam asks.

  Barney remains expressionless.

  “I remember,” I continue, “because I do a little association trick to pair names and faces when I meet a lot of new people at once. I remembered you like Barney the children’s dinosaur. You know, the big purple one. And I remembered your last name by picturing Barney the dinosaur eating McDonald’s and combing his hair in the cargo plane. Get it? Barney McCombs?”

  Adam and Barney look at each other, confused. Or maybe they’re up to something. They seem to be scheming together. I begin to wonder what the hell is happening. I don’t want to be skeptical of everyone, but I can’t seem to help it. My world is spinning and I’m just trying to sort things out properly so I can fix it. I desperately want to find Liam and get back to the rest of my family.

  “I’m here to check on you,” Barney says.

  I hear his words, but I don’t understand why a loadmaster would be here to check on me. And dressed like Adam the nurse, no less.

  “Why?” I ask.

  It’s a simple question.

  “It’s our job,” Adam replies.

  “I’m not talking to you right now,” I stammer, my head throbbing as I lean back against the dresser. “I want to hear why Barney is here to check on me. That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Adam gives Barney a sympathetic glance, which pisses me off even more. I’m the one who should be getting sympathetic glances. People should be trying to help me. Instead, the staff around here seem to think they need to handle me. I get the idea they think I’m difficult. Believe me, they haven’t seen how difficult I can be. I’m a nice guy until backed into a corner. Just ask the man at the animal hospital who rudely tried to tell me that my Ladygirl had died when it was some other dog’s ashes in the box he placed on the counter callously. He’s lucky I didn’t squeeze harder when I had him by the throat. If Liam hadn’t been there to stop me…

  “Major Hartmann,” Adam tries. “Calm down, sir. If Barney is upsetting you, he can leave the room.”

  I squint my eyes and look at Barney hard. Maybe I’m mistaken and he isn’t the loadmaster from the plane. Maybe I’m still loopy from whatever they gave me after surgery.

  “Tell me,” I implore. “Are you Senior Airman Barney McCombs? Do you remember the flight we were on? Remember when Senior Airman Mark Puckett had a panic attack? Agent Frida Price and Chief Petty Officer Tucker Eriksson calmed him down. My uncle was there, too. Lieutenant Colonel Liam Hartmann.”

  How could he forget? It isn’t every flight where someone has a panic attack. Us military folks aren’t typically prone to that type of thing by the time we’re on airplanes heading to special ops missions to save the world. It’s almost embarrassing.

  Finally, the man answers. “I am Barney McCombs, yes,” he confirms.

  “The loadmaster from the flight here?”

  He doesn’t confim. The two men share another knowing look. It enrages me. I slam my fist down hard on the top of the dresser, shaking it and the wall behind. That got their attention. It hurt like hell, but thanks to the adrenaline now pumping through my body, it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as it could have.

  Tentatively, Adam steps toward me. He’s brave. I’ll give him that. “Sir, where do you think you are?”

  I rumple my brow. What kind of question is that? I swear, nothing makes sense and I’m about damn tired of it. “I’m at Camp Shorabak, Afghanistan.”

  Adam sighs, then turns toward Barney and nods.

  “What?” I ask. “Tell me why you have that shit-eating look on your face.”

  Barney nods back to his colleague. He leaves the room without saying another word.

  “Where is he going?” I ask Adam, my voice raising higher.

  He ignores my question, and instead places a hand on my arm. He’s trying to guide me back to the bed. The nerve.

  “Don’t touch me!” I shout, loud enough to be heard in the hallway.

  I want someone to hear me. I need someone reasonable to come in here and answer my questions. I don’t think I’ve spoken to a medical doctor yet. I know the military does things a little differently, but I have rights. It was much more professional at the hospital in Lake Tahoe when Ali and the boys were brought in. Dr. Wong kept us informed every step of the way. So did Dr. Adams. And Clara Berry. This place I’m in feels more like a prison than a hospital. It almost feels like they want to keep me here.

  My eyes come alive with fear and anger as I consider the situation further. I probably look like a wild animal. I feel like one.

  “Sir, please calm down,” Adam says, his hand still on my arm.

  I shake his hand off as hard as I can. “I said no! Don’t touch me.”

  My jerky movements have caused my gown to open up, exposing my naked backside. I feel the breeze and can tell I’m uncovered. I don’t care right now. These punks aren’t treating me with the respect I deserve. Don’t they know I’m their superior? I don’t care if I’ve been out of the Air Force for a while or not. I’m here now, on duty. I’ve done my time and earned my rank. I deserve a certain level of respect, just like I’ve always shown my superiors. It’s the way rank works. It’s a system as old as time.

  “No!” I yell as Adam tries again to guide me to the bed. “I said no! N-O!”

  Barney rushes back in, holding a large syringe in his hand. These assholes are trying to knock me out. I thought I’d been sedated. Now I’m sure. I won’t go down without a fight. My uncle’s life depends on it. He’d fight tooth and nail for me.

  “Grab him!” Barney calls out to his partner in crime.

  I don’t like this one bit. It reminds me of the night we grabbed Clive in Lake Tahoe and took him to the shoddy motel off of route twelve. Roddy, Liam, and I worked as a team to pull Clive out of his truck in the Bi-Mart parking lot and take him to the hotel for questioning.

  I’m the one who is supposed to grab people. Not the other way around.

  “I’ll try,” Adam replies.

  They aren’t even talking to me anymore. That’s a bad sign. They’re talking about me. To manage me.

  I widen my legs and crouch into a fighting stance. I wince as the pain sears through my shoulder, but I push through it anyway. I raise my hands, the in-tact arm higher than the injured one. If we have to fight over this, we will. I’m not just going to let these clowns inject me with something. They had better believe I won’t go down easy.

  “Major Hartmann,” Adam hisses, his tone condescending now. “I need you to calm down. We’re going to give you something to help you relax. Okay?”

  “No!” I shout.

  “Sir, it’s the best thing for you. I promise,” Adam continues. Lies.

  “No!” I say again, rocking from foot to foot like a boxer.

  Barney steps forward. He’s going to try to either talk me down or come at me. He’s bigger than Adam, though still not as tall as me. If I weren’t injured, I think I could take them both. Now… I’m not so sure. I’ll give it my all.

  “Major Hartmann?” Barney begins. “George, right?”

  Hearing him call me by my first name makes my anger rise. He doesn’t know me. He certainly isn’t my friend.

  “Major Hartmann to you,” I say curtly. “Stay back!”

  Barney steps closer, the syringe dangling from his outstretched hand. He turns and whispers something to Adam. I don’t like it.

  “Please, sir,” Barney says as Adam scurries around to one side near the bed.

  They’ve divided my focus now. Damn them. I have to glance back and forth from one to the other rather than keeping my sights locked on a singular area of the room.

  “Let’s not make this difficult,” Barn
ey continues. “I know you want things to be different. I get that. I promise I do.”

  Hot tears return to my eyes. How could this man possibly get it? He’s too young to understand the love I have for my family. He hasn’t even been alive long enough to have a friend as true as Uncle Liam. He probably hasn’t known the kind of love that Ali and I have. And he certainly doesn’t know what it’s like to have children who need protection. I would do anything for any one of them. They desperately need me now. I can’t be out of commission. I just can’t.

  “You don’t understand,” I say. I don’t move to wipe the tears from my face. “My family needs me. I have to get out of here. I was just looking for my other uniform. Colonel Becker and Colonel Winton want me to go on a mission tonight. I promise, I’m telling you the truth. You can call them to verify. Do it right now. I’ll wait. Then you’ll see. I have to go on the mission, then get home to my family.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Barney says. “I can tell you care about them very much.”

  “You have no idea,” I blurt. “More than life itself.”

  “We want to help you, George. I promise.” Barney is looking me in the eye and he seems sincere, but the syringe still waits.

  I shake my head. My hands are still up, ready to defend.

  “I have to get to them,” I say. “My uncle is out there somewhere. He’s missing. I have to find him tonight. And my son… He’s just a boy and he’s been… kidnapped. Back in Lake Tahoe. And my wife… she’s in the hospital fighting for her life. We almost lost her…”

  Barney frowns sympathetically. “That’s a lot at once,” he remarks.

  “There’s even more,” I explain.

  I’m losing situational awareness. I can feel it. Adam is inching around the side.

  “Tell me more about it,” Barney says.

  “Some bad people are after us,” I continue. “They broke into our house in New York and tried to take my son away. Then they ran my wife off the road. It’s a long story. They’re relentless. And it goes back to some kind of feud in Ancient Greece. In a past life we all lived together. I can’t even remember it all. My mom’s boyfriend-- or significant other, I guess I should call him-- has been hypnotizing me to help me remember.”