by Steven Hunt
A week ago he would have laughed had a soldier told him that he was going to teach him about love.
Now anything was possible.
With his hand thumping along the fence much like a card rattling the spokes of a bicycle, Teddy followed the fence until he came to a gate. Large warning signs with bright red lettering identifying the fenced-in area as a military installation confirmed his suspicion. One sign warned that trespassing was forbidden. Another said that all persons were subject to search. Yet another proclaimed the installation as the property of the Department of Defense.
Teddy stood outside the gate, unsure what to do. Christy had been specific about coming to the gate, but she didn’t say what to do next. She mentioned that his instructor would be inside the fence, but how was he to contact him or her? He watched as a soldier wearing sergeant stripes bellowed the military’s form of encouragement to the hustling troops. “Get up there, Johnson! Don’t make me come after you. Gonzales, you’re falling behind! Pick it up before I make you regret being last.”
Teddy eyed the concrete barriers near the gate. They would not just allow anyone access to a restricted base. So how was he going to get in?
Did he need to get on the base? Maybe his teacher would meet him here before taking him to another location.
“Sir! May I help you, sir?” A voice barked.
Teddy turned to the gate sentry. A young man in his early twenties, his dark blue beret and the insignia on the chest of his camouflaged jacket identified him as a member of the US Air Force Security Forces. He wore two stripes on each sleeve.
What rank did the stripes indicate? A private first class? No, the Air Force had a different terminology than the Army. An airman first class, then?
The airman wore an olive-colored web belt complete with a Beretta 92F pistol—Teddy recognized the pistol from pictures in his gun magazines—secured in a holster hanging low on his hip. He cradled an M16 across his chest. As Teddy suspected, the airman’s index finger tickled the trigger of the rifle.
“I’m not sure. I’m supposed to meet someone here, but I don’t know who.”
“One moment, sir. Stay where you are.” The airman stepped inside a ply-board gate shack and picked up the receiver of a telephone. While speaking into the phone he kept his stern eyes fixed on Teddy. Twenty seconds later, the call had ended and the airman stood in front of Teddy. “The sergeant will be here in a moment, sir. I need you to stand where you are and keep your hands out of your pockets. I must warn you that this is a restricted area and deadly force has been authorized. You’ll be OK if you obey my commands…sir,” he added as if an afterthought.
“Thank you.”
The airman repositioned himself in the middle of the drive with his back toward the fenced-in area as he continued to watch Teddy. The airman’s finger never left the trigger.
“Uh, Airman?”
“Yes, sir?”
“What is this place?”
“It’s a military installation, sir. Any more information than that I’m not at liberty to say.”
“I didn’t know we had a base in this part of Missouri.”
“Missouri, sir?”
“Aren’t we in Missouri?”
“Sorry, sir, can’t say.”
“Then where are we?”
“Sir, you’d better speak with the sergeant. Now, if you would, please stand there quietly.”
A desert camouflaged Humvee slid to a stop inside the gate, empowering a cloud of billowing, brown dust to engulf the shack, the airman, and Teddy. Wiping grit from his eyes, Teddy saw the same sergeant that had been drilling the troops exit from the driver’s door. His facial expression and cold glare sent a clear message: What now? Who is this civilian and what is he doing at my gate?
“What’s the problem, Airman?” His booming voice left no question he was in command. He held his head high and his shoulders square, his demeanor demanded respect.
“Sergeant, this man approached the gate from along the fence line. He claims to be meeting someone here, but he doesn’t know who.” The airman reported.
As if on cue the sergeant’s steely eyes shifted to Teddy.
With the sergeant’s bulldog nose, close-cropped flat-top haircut, and eyes that bore deep into Teddy’s soul, it wasn’t long before intimidation spurned Teddy’s palms to perspire. The sergeant could have been a poster model for warriors.
“Okay, Airman, I’ll take care of it. Resume your duties. And fix that holster, mister. I don’t want to ever see you wearing it like a gunslinger. Next time I catch you wearing it low, I’ll have you wishing you’d never set eyes on me. Understood?”
The sentry mumbled a quick “Yes, Sergeant” as his hands hurriedly made adjustments.
His chest thrust out, the sergeant marched in long strides to Teddy. He stopped close to him, his rugged eyes bearing down as he asked, “May I help you, sir?”
“I hope so, Sergeant…um?”
“Sergeant E.V. Love, sir.”
Teddy stifled a chuckle. A man named Love instructing airmen to become combatants? How ironic.
“Is something funny, sir?”
“Um…no, Sergeant.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “I’m Teddy Whitaker. I was sent by…” How was he going to explain that he’d been sent here by a ten-year-old girl and that he’d been following her instructions for the past four days? Not something the tough-as-nails Love would understand.
“Sir?”
“I’ve just realized that my situation is quite complicated, Sergeant.”
“Why don’t you just say what you’re here for, sir.” Love remained professional, but his face said Tell me what you want and quit wasting my time.
“It may sound unbelievable…”
Love waved his hand, prompting Teddy to continue.
“All right.” Teddy gave up trying to read Love’s expression. Why continue to try? He’d been wrong many times over the past few days and it had always worked out. The Truth certainly had mysterious ways. He cleared his throat before continuing—a nervous reaction. “I’ve been tasked to complete several assignments—or lessons, I guess you could say—because of a…um, personal situation. If I do not finish these tasks, I can never return to my family. You see, I have been depress…” He stopped, not knowing how Love would react to him saying that he’d been depressed. A depressed man at the gate of a military installation? All the scenarios that ran though his mind had the same conclusion. Not good. Teddy ran a hand through his hair. “This little girl…” How was he supposed to say this without coming off totally insane? Love wouldn’t hesitate to throw him in the loony bin.
“Sir, are you in some kind of trouble?”
“Well, yes. But how did you—“
“You, sir. You mentioned that you would not be allowed to see your family again if you failed your mission. Are you being extorted? Is someone watching you right now, Mr. Whitaker?”
“Wha…yes…I mean, no.” Teddy shook his head. “I’m the cause of my troubles.”
“Are you saying you’re a victim of Stockholm syndrome?”
“Stock-what? No! I don’t know.”
“Do you know what Stockholm syndrome is, sir?”
“Um…no. I guess not.” This was not going as Teddy had hoped.
Love’s eyes snapped to the area along the fence as he explained. “Stockholm syndrome is where a kidnapped victim’s mind starts associating and believing in the kidnapper’s purpose. Remember Patty Hearst and the pictures of her robbing the bank? She’d been held captive so long she started believing in their cause. That’s Stockholm syndrome. Do you believe you’re a victim of this syndrome, Mr. Whitaker?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Then why is someone threatening to not allow you to see your family?”
“It’s not like that—”
“Who is this person you wish to speak with, Mr. Whitaker?”
Teddy inhaled a deep breath before slowly releasing it. “Christy…um…” Teddy rea
lized he didn’t know her last name or even if she had a last name.
“Did you say “Christy”?”
“Uh…yes. But she’s not—”
Sergeant Love stepped closer, cutting off Teddy’s words. He looked angry, making Teddy unsure of the sergeant’s intentions. Love turned his head toward the gate shack before looking at Teddy. “How do you know Christy?” he said in a whispered voice.
“She, um, has been helping me. She directed me here.”
Love nodded. “Wait here.”
Teddy watched as Love returned to the airman. They spoke too quietly for Teddy to hear, as they took turns looking at him. He felt like a prized stuffed animal at a carnival booth. Gather around! Try your hand at winning a stuffed teddy bear for your loved one. He’s a little unbalanced, but he won’t bite.
Teddy glanced around. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, no one to help. Alone in the middle of who-knows-where with who-knows-what about to happen.
Love finished his conversation with the sentry and motioned Teddy to the Humvee. “Get into the Hummer, sir.”
“Where’re we going, Sergeant?” Teddy asked as he hurried to the all-terrain vehicle.
“That’s classified.”
That didn’t sound good.
28
The Humvee barreled across the barren land, its rear end fishtailing on the dirt roads as Love pushed the battle wagon to its limit.
Love was not a man prone to unnecessary talking, Teddy had determined. With only the engine’s roar in his ears, he resorted to staring out the passenger window as his imagination ran amok. Is this the end of the line for him? Maybe Flagg was correct. Maybe Christy had lied to him and this military installation would be his final resting place. Cannon fodder for the military? Or maybe he would meet his death in the middle of a live-fire exercise? An uninformed pedestrian who just wandered into the path of a live-fire exercise of M1A2 tanks? Did the Air Force have tanks? No, it would be more practical to be target practice for the Gatling guns of the A10 Tank-Killer assault aircraft. The pilots flew so high and so fast that obtaining positive target identification—especially on a lone individual—must be difficult.
Maybe Love intended to lock Teddy—the crackpot—away, never to be heard from or seen again. He’d heard stories of that happening.
He scolded himself for his thinking. It wouldn’t serve any purpose but to frighten him. LEAP’s contract with the military police had provided just enough information for his mind to run with wild thoughts.
Love turned the Humvee off the more traveled road onto a bumpy trail. More like a path than a trail, this road seemed to have been foraged by horses a century ago. Potholes were more common than smooth road. The path continued around boulders and across a low-water creek into an oasis populated by large evergreen trees.
In the midst of the trees sat a single Quonset hut. The galvanized steel, round-topped building looked out of place among the trees and with no other buildings within sight.
Perfect place for a killing, thought Teddy. No one would hear the screams.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he scolded himself again. He had to get better control of his imagination.
But who would blame him? How many times has someone encountered what he had over the past several days?
“You’ll be safe here.” Love left the engine idling, but did not move to exit the Humvee.
“Here?”
“Yes, sir. Here.”
“But, I’m on a tight schedule. I’ve only two days left before I…I…” A knot in his throat choked off his words as thoughts of his family drifted into his mind.
“There’ll be plenty of time.”
Teddy swallowed. “Plenty of time for what?”
“For whatever.”
“What am I to do here—all by myself?”
Teddy could see Love’s frustration building. Redness the color of hot embers seeped up from the collar of his uniform shirt until it covered his entire head. The sergeant jerked his head toward the driver’s window as he inhaled. “There’s grub in the hut and a working latrine. The wood stove works, and there’s plenty of cut timber for a fire.” Love turned toward him. “I suggest you use this time to reflect on what you’ve already learned. But, do not reconnoiter the area. Stay inside the hut and do not light any lamps after dark. Understand, sir?”
Teddy nodded. “But why the seclusion?”
“For your protection.”
“From what?” Love’s words really frightened him. “Why don’t we just forget that I ever approached your installation and you can take me back to the gate? You’ll never see me again. I promise. We’ll chalk this up to a huge mistake.” As soon as the words had left his mouth he felt guilty. He had broken the promise to himself to never run again. What kind of a father and husband runs each time he faces trouble and leaves his family to fend for themselves?
“Sorry. I can’t do that.”
“Is it because I’ve seen too much? I’ve heard that’s always a problem on military installations. I swear I’ll never say a word to anyone. I’m not sure I’ve seen anything at all.” His words churned the juices in his stomach.
“No, sir, that won’t cut it. I have a job to do.”
“Then tell me why I need protection.”
“From Flagg.”
Teddy’s mouth fell open. How did he know about Flagg? Teddy knew he hadn’t mentioned the skeleton-man’s name. “But how—“
“I’ll be back in plenty of time to teach you the lesson and get you on your way.”
“You? You’re my teacher?”
“Who’d you expect? The commander’s wife?”
“Well, no. I guess I didn’t know who to expect.”
“I’m what you’ve got. Now, please, exit the vehicle, sir.”
Teddy didn’t know what to think, but he did as instructed. A thought crossed his mind as he stood next to the rumbling vehicle. “Wait! How do I know I can trust you?”
Love looked at him with battle-hardened eyes. “You don’t.”
Love accelerated the Humvee, leaving Teddy on the side of the road.
****
The interior of the hut was just as Teddy expected—bare. But what luxuries had he enjoyed during the last four days?
None in the boxcar.
Unless you counted the cramped couch in Ezi’s shack, there wasn’t any there.
And certainly none in Yebo’s home. He’d slept on the alley floor sheltered from the weather by a thin layer of cardboard over his head.
Two rows of metal bunk beds lining each side of the cramped hut stared back at him. They culminated at the end at a small, sheet-rocked room. Most of the beds had old, stained mattresses folded in half on rusty bed springs, all covered in dust. Tall green, metal lockers—like the ones found in secondary schools—stood erect in the spaces between the bunk beds, guarding the beds. An inch or more of brown dirt covered the windows set high along the walls so any light from outside permeated into the hut diffused; creating an atmosphere that could only be described as dim and eerie.
Teddy inspected the small room at the end. It had been divided into two sections: one-half housed a five-toilet latrine and the other half a makeshift day room. Since he didn’t see any need to further inspect the latrine, he concentrated on the day room. The area sported an old pool table with ripped, green felt along with a television and stereo.
He didn’t give much hope for the television since the federal government had switched all programming to digital and this one had sprouted rabbit ears.
Equally old was the stereo. It proudly displayed an eight-track tape slot.
Tables and chairs were scattered around the room in no particular order like someone had departed in a hurry and didn’t care how they left things.
A pile of Meals Ready to Eat—or MREs as they were known to the service members—were stacked in a wooden cabinet over an apartment-sized refrigerator. He opened the fridge’s door, slamming it closed just as quick when a rancid smel
l invaded the room. He hadn’t the time to see if anything edible had been in it, but that was OK. It would stay closed. Whatever had caused the odor would have already contaminated everything in the fridge anyway.
A microwave oven—sans power cord—completed the objects in the room.
Not wanting to mess with the wood stove—who knew what condition it was in or when the chimney had last been swept—Teddy scrounged a pillow and two semi-clean blankets from the cots. He curled up with them on a top bunk near the front door to wait for his teacher to return.
****
Teddy must have drifted off because something startled him. Wide awake, he stared into the darkness as a noise sounding as if something had struck the outside of the door, sent a resounding bang throughout the hut. Teddy leaped from the bunk, landing on the concrete floor. He intended to hide between the bunk bed and the nearest locker, but lost his balance when his feet slammed onto the cement floor. He crashed backward into the locker, sending an even louder bang throughout the shelter.
Whatever had caused the noise at the door stopped.
His heart pounded in his ears. He tried to slow his rapid breathing. His eyes wide, he watched the door. The hut was dark, but the moonlight shining through the windows provided enough light for him to see movement.
He held his breath, hoping that whatever or whoever had caused the noise had left.
The door creaked open.
Backlit from the moonlight, a stocky figure stepped through the threshold. He stopped just inside the door. A bright light searched the hut, sweeping across the bunks and down the aisle. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
The figure pointed the flashlight to the ceiling, illuminating the hut in a dim light.
Love.
“Teddy? Seriously, show yourself.”
Teddy dropped his chin to his chest, exhaling. Relieved.
As Teddy emerged from behind the bunk, Love tossed a sack onto the foot of the nearest bunk before handing him a shake. “Thought you’d prefer a burger and a shake. I didn’t figure you for the type who liked MREs.”
The sergeant balanced the olive-drab green flashlight on an old footlocker where it continued to shine toward the roof.