Limits of Protection

by Kelly Utt

  It’s easy to focus on what I smell. The bread smells delicious. Its sweet aroma is wafting through the entire cottage and making me hungry. I can smell the soup more distinctly now, too. It smells like loaded baked potato. One of my favorites. I also smell freshly mowed grass outside. I must not have been paying close attention to it, because I didn’t notice when I walked in. But now I do. The smell takes me back to happy memories of mowing the grass on sunny days when my family was young. It smells hopeful. It smells like growth and nourishment. And it reminds me of having a tidy, orderly home. Most importantly, I recognize and know the smells of my wife. I can smell a certain kind of shampoo she likes to use during warm weather months. It’s made with lemon, and I’ve always thought it smells like sunshine. I can tell Ali has just washed her hair recently. I lean over and take a deep whiff of the top of her head. She smells like home.

  So many things are like home. They’re gratifying. Perfect in every way.

  Last but not least, I focus on the sights around me. Perhaps they’re the best of all. Directly across from the bed and in my line of sight are a number of framed photos featuring our family. As I look at them, memories come flooding back of the fun times we’ve had together. I consider how special each one of them is to me. I look at the paint on the walls, which is a crisp, patriotic blue color that looks sharp in contrast to the white trim. I’m sure Ali picked the color. She has such a knack for decorating. The entire time I’ve known her, she’s made every place we’ve lived feel like home. I consider myself lucky in that regard. All I have to do is help her get the supplies she needs and hang things and place them according to her direction. She knows exactly what she wants to do and how to do it. The result is always spectacular.

  Next, I look out the bedroom window into the screened porch on the back of the house. This screened porch is small as compared to the one at our big house in Ithaca, but it looks just as inviting. There’s a hammock in one corner and an outdoor sectional with plenty of room for the whole family to pile in together. There are windchimes, like the ones out front. And there’s an array of potted plants which make the whole place vibrant and alive. I look over to the other side of the room and notice the large, inviting bathroom. I can see all the way inside from my vantage point in the bed. There’s a large, clawfoot soaking tub inside and I’m sure Ali has spent countless hours in there. I remember when we first moved into the house in Ithaca and all she wanted to do was get into the big tub with some wine and a good book. That’s something I’ve always appreciated about my wife. She takes pleasure in life’s simple moments. Sure, she enjoys the finer things money can buy. But she’s never needed them.

  The house is beautiful, but what I really want to look at is my wife. “Sit up and let me look at you, Alessandra Davies,” I say to my stunning wife.

  “Oh, Georgie,” she says, blushing. “Haven’t you seen enough of me with these wrinkles on my skin? Besides, my hair is all awry and I look a mess.“

  “There’s no such thing as seeing enough of you,“ I say, sitting up in bed and using one of my arms to guide Ali to do the same. “I could spend all day, every day looking at you and it would never be enough.“

  She smiles bashfully, leaning her head down and looking up at me with those big brown eyes. The sheet falls down around her waist and I’m reminded of the way she looked when we were young. I think my Ali looks even more beautiful now. Growing old with her is an honor and a privilege. It’s one that I would never take lightly. I know this is just a dream, but it’s the best dream possible. Because it truly is my dream in life. No matter what else happens and no matter what we have to face, as long as I end up with Ali in the end, everything that came before will have been worth it.

  Suddenly, I hear the sound of a man screaming and I’m pulled out of my beautiful dream. I jerk awake and almost roll off the jumpseat as I look around the aircraft to get my bearings. I turn to Liam. He’s awake and sitting up.

  “What’s going on?“ I ask.

  “It’s Puckett,” Liam replies.

  “Damnit. What’s wrong with him?“

  “Hell if I know,” my uncle says. Liam sounds as irritated as I feel. “He just started screaming over there. Some of the SEALS are dealing with him. Looks like Eriksson is taking the lead.”

  “Let be sure I understand… You’re telling me that the guy screaming at the top of his lungs is Senior Airman Puckett, the assistant to Colonel Becker. Right?“ I ask.

  “That’s the one,” my uncle confirms.

  Mark Puckett continues to yell and scream. The sound is so loud it’s echoing throughout the interior of the cargo plane. It’s a big space to fill, which tells me that the screaming must be even louder and more intense up close. I’m glad someone else is dealing with him. I’m angry that I was woken up from my dream and I might not be kind right now.

  “I think he’s having a panic attack,” Liam says.

  “The wus,” I say, sullenly, stretching my back and rubbing my eyes.

  My uncle looks at me, surprised. I guess I am being a little harsh. But I’m pissed off. If the man can’t handle this, he shouldn’t be here. And Colonel Becker knows that better than anyone. Becker has no business bringing an Airman who can’t handle this. I guarantee there are hundreds, if not thousands, of Senior Airmen who could have taken Mark’s place and who would have been able to handle what we’re facing without having a panic attack and screaming like a stuck pig in the cargo plane. I’m sure Tucker Eriksson would agree. No doubt, he wants to be resting up for the mission at hand and getting his game face on. He shouldn’t have to be playing counselor and nurse to some inexperienced hack who is falling apart.

  “Really?“ Liam asks. “If my memory serves me right, you were going through something similar yourself just a few days ago. Give the guy a break.“

  “Yeah, but my wife and kids were missing and I was staring down a ravine where the search was taking place. Puckett is simply riding on a cargo plane.“

  “We all have our moments,“ Liam said. “Is a pretty serious mission and the stakes are high. Not everybody can handle this level of intensity. You can, I know. But try and put yourself in his shoes. For all we know, he would have been able to stand looking down that ravine the other day if it had been his wife.“

  “He’s a kid,“ I reply. “I doubt he’s old enough to have a girlfriend, let alone a wife.”

  My uncle crosses his arms over his chest. He leans back in his jumpseat and looks at me as Mark continues to wail and holler. “Are you getting so old that you’re losing touch with the young twenty-somethings?“ my uncle asks. “Because as far as I can tell, Puckett is about the age you were when you met Ali.”

  I hear what my uncle is saying and I agree. But it’s not doing anything to calm my agitation. I want to be back in the little cottage with Ali and our puppy. I want to smell the bread baking and my wife’s lemon shampoo.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say. “This is getting to me right now. I can’t necessarily explain why. I just feel so incredibly pissed off having to listen to the sound of his screams. Not to mention, I don’t like being on a mission like this with someone who can’t handle it. We can’t have a single weak link in this operation. I need to get it done and get back to my family. Right now, Puckett seems to be a huge complication. If he delays us or puts us in danger, I swear to God…“

  Liam doesn’t say anything else, but puts his hand on my shoulder. I decide to get up and go take a look. Maybe I can talk some sense into the young airman. As I go, I can see more and more detail of what’s happening. Hutch, the SEAL team’s dog, seems agitated by the yelling as well. He’s all amped up and twitchy. He’s staying close to his handler‘s feet like he’s supposed to, but he’s pacing in a small circle and whining. I feel for the dog. And I want him to get his rest ahead of the mission. From what I understand, we’re going to be moving in shortly after we get to Camp Shorabak. The time for resting up is now.

  Frida Price is working with Tucker Eriksson to calm Mark
Puckett down. She’s kneeling on her knees and she has a paper bag that she’s encouraging Mark to breathe into. He looks to be hyperventilating at this point. He’s gasping for air and opening his eyes wide as if he can’t get a full breath. Since Frida is CIA, I don’t know what kind of training or experience she’s received, but by the looks of it, she’s good with people. I’ve always wondered about CIA agents and exactly what all they go through at The Farm during their training. I’ve wondered how it compares to what I’ve experienced at survival school and prisoner of war school. It’s all fascinating to me. The training we receive makes a huge difference as to how we’re each able to handle ourselves in difficult settings. If I had to guess, I’d bet Senior Airman Puckett hasn’t been through any more than basic training.

  “Anything I can do over here?” I ask Frida and Tucker. A few other SEALs are hanging around nearby as if they’re ready to jump in should their leader say the word.

  “I think we’re okay,” Frida says, without breaking eye contact with Mark.

  “Good,“ I reply. “So the screaming will stop soon?“ I hear the callousness in my voice as it comes out of my mouth. It doesn’t sound like me. I’m usually a pretty patient guy.

  “It will,” Frida says, nodding her head up and down and prompting Mark to do the same. She’s beginning to connect with him.

  Draco Elias, one of the chemical weapons experts, hears my comments and steps in to intervene. “Take it easy on him,” Drago implores. “We’re all nervous.“

  “Speak for yourself,“ I say. “I’m ready to get this done and get back home.”

  “Yeah, we’ve heard,” Draco says, his tone snide. “You’ve told everyone about how your wife is in the hospital and your family is being chased. Do you think you’re the only one with problems?“

  Feeling the heat begin to rise to my face, I take a step towards Draco. “Do you mean to tell me that my family situation doesn’t sound serious to you?“ I ask.

  Our escalating tones are tipping Mark back in the wrong direction. He lets out another piercing scream and begins to rock back-and-forth in his seat.

  “All I’m saying,“ Drago continues. “Is that people have problems, man. We’re all here to serve our country. The good old U.S. of A. If you’re not a real patriot, then you shouldn’t be here.“

  Draco is about to push me over the edge. He’s muscular, but he’s several inches shorter than me. I think I can take him if this evolves into violence. And right now, I think I’d like to beat someone’s ass. I’ve been pushed past my limits lately. Yet I was able to gather myself and focus on the mission and get here. I was enjoying my dream of Ali in the cottage and I just wanted it to continue. All I want now is for Mark to shut the hell up so maybe I can go back to sleep and back to my dream. I don’t need some prick like Draco in my face trying to explain how we should let the airman yell. I especially don’t need him disparaging my family. I don’t know exactly what Draco’s job as chemical weapons expert entails, but it sounds like a lot of laboratory work.

  Again, I think I can take him. I feel every muscle in my body tense as I ready myself for a physical fight. I’m not even sure why, but I expect Draco to take a swing. Maybe I’m overreacting.

  “Alright,” Liam says, suddenly beside me. “We’re all on the same side here.”

  I turn and look at Liam. He knows the look. He knows it means that I want to move forward. I want to get some of this restless energy and aggression out of my system.

  “Save it, buddy,” he says. “You may need it. Draco isn’t your enemy. Eriksson and Price are taking care of Puckett. How about we go sit back down on the other side of the plane?“

  Tucker shoots me a look that says he thinks it’s a good idea. I glance around at the other SEALs standing nearby, and they’re all looking at me the same way. It’s obvious that any move Tucker makes will include the full support of every last member of his team. I certainly don’t want to make enemies of these guys. Agreeing to let it go, for now, I raise both arms in the air, then back away and return to my seat. I can’t help but wonder if these dynamics are a sign of trouble to come. When Liam and I get back to our seats, he turns and stares at me. He wants to know what’s going on.

  “Look, I’m sure it sounds silly, but Puckett’s yelling woke me up from a dream that I really didn’t want to leave.“

  “Yeah?” Liam asks.

  “It was a scene in the future. With Ali. We were old and gray. We lived in a little cottage and we had a German Shepherd puppy. Bread was baking in the oven, soup was simmering on the stove, and I was with my wife, taking in every scrap of sensory input I could.“ Tears fill my eyes as I describe the experience. “It’s a scene that, lately, I’ve feared would never come to pass. I just wanted to hold onto it awhile longer, if only in my dream.”

  10

  Darkness

  When we touch down at Camp Shorabak, Afghanistan, it’s mid-afternoon and the sun is shining brightly. I think about how, at home in New York, the sun is just beginning to rise over the hills. In Lake Tahoe, it’s still the middle of the night. The sun won’t rise to greet my loved ones for another few hours. I hate being so far away from my family.

  As I step off the plane and onto the tarmac, I look around and take in the foreign landscape. I’ve been here before, but it still feels like an entirely different world from the one I call home. The predominant color is a dusty light brown. The sandy dirt blows around with the winds and makes ripples as far as the eye can see. There are mountains far off in the distance, which I admit, I appreciate. But they’re different. They seem harsh and unforgiving. I suppose the native people who live here consider this pretty. Or pleasant in a familiar way, at least. If they came to my hometown of Ithaca, they might find all the green and the gentle curves strange and unsettling. Similarly, if they went to my childhood home of Brooklyn, they might find the concrete buildings and the waterways odd. It’s interesting to think about how much varied experience there is in this world.

  We unload our gear and pile into some barracks where we can rest until nightfall when we’ll set out on our mission. The U.S. military prefers to operate in the darkness of night. Our advanced night vision gives us a tactical advantage compared to what less-developed adversaries have available. Aside from that though, night missions allow for the element of surprise. Navy SEAL teams conduct most of their missions in the darkness because that’s what they’re used to. They are masters of stealth. I’m always impressed by the SEALs and their capabilities. They are some of the most elite combat fighters in the world. Watching them in action is something I’ve only had the opportunity to do a few times. Even then, I’ve never had a chance to be involved in a raid like I will tonight.

  I didn’t want to let on to Draco, but, of course, I’m nervous. At the same time though, it’s an honor to be here with these fine men and women. I continue to feel a sense of great purpose. It’s exhilarating. Service to my country is incredibly important to me. If we can succeed in foiling the planned attacks being coordinated by this Syrian terrorist group, it will be a huge win. It will mean so much for my life. Not to mention, I feel like Liam and I have a responsibility to thwart the planned attacks since the terrorists are attempting to use the technology we created.

  I throw my bag onto the bottom bunk in a small, dark room as Liam tosses his onto the top. As expected, we’re sticking together. We don’t talk about it. We just do it. The others don’t talk about it either, but I’m sure they can tell that’s just the way it is with me and my uncle. I consider it an advantage for the entire team. The fact that Liam and I want to keep each other safe makes us that much more serious about every single thing we do.

  If feels strange to be in and out of darkness and light. Sensory deprivation is a part of the job with travel around the world in missions that need to take place overnight, but it isn’t always easy on the body. I had gotten used to this type of thing back in my active duty days. It had initially taken some time for me to get used to, but I eventually
did. I guess it’s been a while because I’m feeling rusty. Or maybe I’m more out of sorts than normal after the week I had in Lake Tahoe. I suppose it doesn’t matter now either way. I’ll have to suck it up and try to put any difficulties or discomforts out of my mind.

  I take a quick break to use the restroom, then I get into the bunk, take off my boots, and lay down. No one mentions how most of us have already been napping on the plane. This is just the way it’s done. We know we can’t go into the raid fatigued. We have to drink our sleep in sips and then in big gulps when we can get them. We can’t think of our sleep schedules like a normal American who lays down at night and sleeps for seven or eight hours would. It seems like it will be hard to fall asleep at first, but I tell my body that rest is necessary. I tell it to skip the dreams. While I’d love nothing more than to go back and spend a bit longer in that little cottage with Future Ali, right now I need restorative sleep that will prepare me for what I have to face tonight. Thankfully, my body cooperates and I sleep hard for several hours. I think Liam sleeps, too. Although I’m not sure, because I’m blissfully unaware of anything happening around me until Mark Puckett comes to wake us up for dinner, hours later.

  “Everybody up,” he shouts. “Chow.” He has apparently recovered from his panic attack and looks like nothing happened. His tone is friendly, but I can tell he means for us to take him seriously. I’m sure Colonel Becker sent him.