Vi pokes her head into my room as I finish braiding my hair.
“Hey. There’s a guard here asking for you.”
“A guard? What do they want?”
“He didn’t say. Just asked for you.”
I swallow and straighten my uniform. It’s surprisingly comfortable, but only the smell of detergent distinguishes it from the dirty pile.
“Andie Sorenson?” the soldier asks as I make my way toward the door.
“Yes, sir.”
“Come with me, please.”
“Have I done something wrong?” The question is instinctive. I’ve learned that these particular soldiers don’t come with answers. Besides, I already know the answer is yes. I fought with my supervisor. I collected evidence that this place is more, or less, than what it’s supposed to be. I’m guilty of plenty, but the question is, do “they” know my crime. “They” run our lives. “They” hurt my friend. I still have no idea who “they” are.
“I was told to take you to Staff Sergeant Henry, miss.”
Strangers make me nervous. By design, anything out of the ordinary is cause for concern in this place and Staff Sergeant Henry is a name I don’t know. I follow in silence but it’s not Kaleb’s face that plasters itself in my brain this time. It’s his body. Blisters of seared flesh lined with bruises. I never asked about it again. I ignored his uncomfortable shifting and the way he needed the support of his desk to stand over the next few days. I did what he asked, pretended to believe him when he said he was fine. He pretended to forgive me for intruding.
The air is cold again today, but I’m not certain my chills are from atmospheric variations as we board a vehicle waiting outside. The soldier remains silent on our ride across the compound, giving my mind plenty of space to torture itself with impossible scenarios. We pull up to what looks like an administrative building, and he jogs to my side to help me down. The ground is soft from the recent rain, muddy where the grass has been scraped away by vehicles and heavy boots.
“This way, please,” breaks the silence, and I slosh through the swamp after him.
We mount the stairs and proceed through security. After passing through a scanner, a female soldier searches me again to be extra sure, I guess. Finally, we’re waved through another locked door that hides a long chain of offices. I read some of the plaques as we pass, surprised by the number of high-ranking officers stationed here. This must be an important military and government base as well as a refugee compound.
Just over halfway down the hall, we stop before a closed door, and my escort issues a firm knock. We enter at the command.
Two officers rise, and I recognize the one on the right as Sergeant Dennel. Replays of our conversation grind through my head, and I try to remain calm. Did Kaleb report my direct insubordination?
“Thank you, Private Wilkins. You may go,” the owner of the office says.
“Yes, sir.” The soldier salutes and closes the door behind him.
The man-in-charge waves toward the empty chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”
I obey and study the officers. While Kaleb makes it hard to imagine he’s an expertly trained killer, these men leave no doubt.
“Andie Sorenson?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m Staff Sergeant Burlington Henry. This is Sergeant Max Dennel. I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve invited you here today.”
“Yes, sir,” I repeat. I don’t know the script for this office.
“Relax. There’s no reason to look so frightened.” His smile does the opposite of what he intends. “I’ve heard only good things about you and your work. How do you like your position here at the compound?”
My brain runs off again, and I clear my throat to bring it back. “It’s great. I mean, I like it a lot. Kaleb is great.” I wince. “Lance Corporal Novelli, that is.”
He seems pleased, but I can’t be sure. “You think highly of him?”
I nod and focus on my hands, afraid my face will broadcast more than I want to share. Kaleb fought to keep our feelings from clouding our judgment. I’d be crushed if I got him in trouble for finally giving in.
“Well, he certainly thinks highly of you, and the truth is, I do too.”
I concentrate back on him.
“In the three months you’ve been working with him, he’s become a different person. He’s participating again, actually contributing to our administrative meetings.”
It takes a minute for me to stammer a reply. “Thank you, sir. He makes it easy to work for him. He’s very capable—he was just overwhelmed.”
“He was always an excellent soldier. He doesn’t belong behind a desk any more than I belong in a dance studio, but such are the realities of war.”
“He doesn’t seem as bitter as he could be. I think he’s trying to make the best of it.”
“He is. That’s very considerate of you.”
Staff Sergeant Henry leans forward. “In fact, given your success and all the reports I’ve received, I’m going to guess you are a very intelligent and perceptive young lady. Lance Corporal Novelli certainly thinks so.”
I look to Sergeant Dennel for clues but his hard expression gives nothing away.
“I presume by now you’ve learned something of his story.”
“That he was captured by the rebels? Yes, I’m aware.”
He considers his next statement. “He cares about you, Ms. Sorenson. He has not said as much, but we can see it in the way he talks about you, the way he describes your accomplishments and your time together. You’re more to him than just an assistant. I think you are his friend.”
I can’t tell if I’m about to be chastised or commended.
“I’d be honored if he considers me a friend,” I say, hoping that’s safe.
“If you are, you’d be the only one he’s made since his capture.”
I’m startled into silence again.
He sighs. “I’ve tried, Ms. Sorenson. Heaven knows we’ve all tried to get to him, but that month changed him. Shut him off from his life and who he was before it all.”
He leans back. “Don’t get me wrong. Novelli is a stellar human being. Polite, respectful. I haven’t met a single person who doesn’t like him. But neither have I met anyone who knows him anymore. He goes through the motions, does what he’s told. But it isn’t real, and I fear it’s only a matter of time before those demons in his head take over and destroy him.”
I hope he can’t see that I agree with his analysis.
“You may be wondering why I’m telling you all of this. Why I’d risk breaking protocol by discussing something so confidential with another person, a civilian no less. It’s because Kaleb is special. And I can see by the impact you’ve had on him that you are too.”
That emotion is back on his face, and I swallow my discomfort. I don’t know how to read this man. Something in me wants to believe him, but trust is irresponsible right now. Impossible with the ominous cloud of “they” drifting over our heads. Is this man one of them?
“Kaleb is an incredible person. I could see that right away.”
The staff sergeant gathers himself back into his decorated-soldier stance. “He is, but I didn’t bring you here today to talk about feelings.”
I’m not surprised, just confused.
“I brought you here because despite all of our efforts, we still haven’t been able to help him. Not at the level we want to anyway. He won’t let us in. Not his doctors, not his superiors, not even his former friends. We’re worried about him and had almost lost hope. Until you.”
“Me?”
He leans into his response. “He responds to you. I’m sure it’s because of you that we’re starting to get our man back, but there’s still a long way to go. Until he opens up about those thirty-four days in captivity, what’s changed, he won’t be able to hea
l and move on.”
I study him in silence. Does he know he’s asking me to spy on Kaleb? His menacing message doesn’t match the concern in his eyes as he delivered it. Even now his face is lined with empathy that a man of his rank doesn’t require for delivering orders. I try to keep my disgust from view since I’m not certain he deserves it. Whoever “they” are want something from him, but technically Staff Sergeant Burlington Henry hasn’t said a thing I don’t agree with except the rights of the parties involved. The lack of facts sends me into investigation mode. Time to bring down that farm.
“I don’t think I realized he was struggling so much.” It’s only a partial lie. “He seems pretty well-adjusted, considering everything he’s been through.”
“Yes, he hides it well. Soldiers are trained to push through any obstacle and he was always one of our best.”
“That makes sense.” It kind of does. Isn’t there a dark world behind that wall in his office I can’t see? “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I understand why I’m here. Am I in trouble?”
“No, of course not. The opposite. We’re hoping you’ll be willing to help us.”
So many pronouns in this equation, so few definitions. “What can I do to help him?”
Staff Sergeant Henry seems to relax. “Right now, just be his friend. He needs that more than anything. The rest will come with trust and time.”
“Okay.”
Fact: None of this has offered clues about “them,” “we,” and “us.” Or why I’d have any interest in helping these people gain access to the only person I do trust. The one thing I know? This Burlington Henry thinks our meeting went well.
He claps his hands. “Great. We’ll be in touch.”
“I’ll take her back, sir,” Sergeant Dennel offers as we’re moving toward the door.
“Thank you, Sergeant. And thank you for your generous spirit, Ms. Sorenson. Kaleb is blessed to have a friend like you.”
I force a smile and allow Sergeant Dennel to lead me out.
A string of curses spews from the sergeant’s mouth as soon as we’re alone in the jeep.
“What a joke! It’s not what it looks like. You can’t—”
“He wants me to spy on Kaleb. Yeah, I know.” I’m offended by his surprised expression. “You’d have to be braindead not to see through that.”
“Hang on.” He slips the vehicle into gear, and we drive back toward the refugee section of the campus. He stops at 9B but doesn’t reach for the door. Instead, he levels a severe look at me.
“I believe that you care about Kaleb, so listen. I’m sorry for brushing off your call the other day. You were right to be worried about him. You still should be. He’s in an impossible situation. And yes, I could be court-martialed just for talking to you about this but he’s my friend. I owe him my life. What happened to him is partially my fault.”
My stare narrows on him.
He shakes his head. “I can’t tell you more, but when he returned from captivity, it was brutal. They grilled him, caged, and studied him. I know him well and I trust him. If he won’t talk, he has a damn good reason why. Unfortunately, his silence is doing him no favors with the brass upstairs. I’ve done as much as I can to help him, but there’s nothing left at this point. They’re getting impatient. The clock is ticking. His recent disappearance …”
“Where was he?”
He doesn’t look at me. “I can’t answer that.”
And I can’t accept evasion anymore. I’m so tired of questions. Guesses. Hypotheses that end up being downright fluffy compared to the truth. “Then at least explain that whole exchange regarding the therapy sessions I overheard shortly after I got here. I was right outside the door. You were on his case for not going. Are you one of ‘them’ too? Are you one of the experts badgering him for details?”
Dennel leans back and studies a truck parked in front of 9A. Soldiers unload supplies while another shouts orders. “It’s complicated. What you need to know is that Kaleb has to pretend to cooperate with them. I get why he fights it, but he’s only making things worse. I’m tired of punishing him over bullshit infractions after everything he’s been through. If you want to help him, convince him to be selfish for one moment of his fucked-up life.”
“What does that actually mean? Why am I involved in this? I’m nothing to these people.”
“Yeah, right. There’s a reason Henry risked involving a civilian by summoning you. He wasn’t wrong that you’re the best avenue to Kaleb right now. Kaleb cares for you. I’m not interested in details on your relationship with him. What matters is that you’ve changed him, and it’s gotten the attention of everyone in that senior hallway. You’re on the radar, Andie. You have to be careful.”
“Be careful with what? I’m just doing my job. The job I was assigned by all of you.”
“Yeah? Just a job? So if I re-assigned you to housekeeping, you’d be fine with that?”
“Cleaning toilets over working in a nice office? No thanks.”
“Fine. Come work for me then. My office is twice the size, great view. I could use the help. I’ll put in for a transfer tonight.”
I ignore his smug look. “All right, fine. I care about him. So what?”
“My point is, now that they know, they’re going to use you against him.”
“Staff Sergeant Henry? Is he ‘they?’”
“Maybe. Maybe not, but there are things you don’t understand.”
“Like?”
“Everything.”
My heart thunders against my ribs. “That’s it? Dammit, I’m so sick of being caught in the middle of questions! Give me something to go on. I already know they want to get inside his head.”
Dennel taps preoccupied fingers on his steering wheel. He scans the supply truck like Kaleb does every time I broach one of our “wall” subjects. The soldiers pile back in, and the engine roars to life. “Worse than that. They suspect he…” He stops, and the alarm explodes anything left of my patience.
“They suspect what?”
The tapping resumes. “Never mind. Look—”
“No! What do they suspect, Sergeant?” My blood turns to sludge when my brain catches up. “They think he might have turned. They think the rebels broke him.”
Dennel responds with an investigation of his dashboard this time.
“It’s not possible. Kaleb isn’t a traitor.”
“I know, Andie. You and I know that, but he’s tired.” I take zero comfort in Dennel’s rationale. “He’s disillusioned with this war. You can see that, can’t you? He’s a great soldier, because he’s great at everything he does, but his heart was never in it.”
“Because he was drafted?”
“Because of who he is.”
I’m shaking now. “Who is he?”
Dennel sighs. “Kaleb comes from a long line of military pedigree. His father was a high-ranking officer, until he was killed in action six years ago.” He quiets. “Kaleb was drafted and pulled into active duty a week after his father’s death.”
I let out my breath, finally grasping the disconnect I’d always sensed in him.
“He never wanted to fight this war, and now he’s paid dearly for it. He’s still paying, Andie. More than—”
He quiets, then meets my gaze. “They think he’s hiding something, and I agree with them. I don’t blame him, but he’s playing a very dangerous game right now. I trust his motives. I care about him, but I don’t know how to help him without knowing what he wants to accomplish.”
It’s too much information and yet not nearly enough. I feel it sifting through brain cells, lodging in clumps to unpack later. “Have you tried talking to him? Explaining his situation and why he needs to be careful?”
“Of course I have. You don’t think he understands the situation he’s in? I’m surprised he let you get so close to him. He’s kept eve
ryone away since his return. My guess is he’s probably beating himself up about it.”
“He is.” It’s hard to ignore things like a constant battle raging behind someone’s eyes. It’s what makes rare grins magical and laughter… Not now. I can’t right now. “Why doesn’t he just leave then? Certainly, he’s earned an honorable discharge after everything he’s been through.”
His grave look sends me back to my brief stint in laundry, thick red folders that empty when I get suspicious. Oh god…
“They’ll never let him go while he’s under suspicion. He’s trapped here. They threw him behind that desk to monitor his every move. It beats a prison cell, but in the end, it’s the same thing.”
Fact: I’m scared. Confused, always confused. “What do I do? I’m going to face him in a minute. What do I say?”
He stares off again. “Honestly, at this point, you should just tell him the truth.”
“What truth? I don’t even know what that is. All people tell me is that I don’t know anything!”
“You know more than you think. You know what just happened with Henry. Work with that. Since Kaleb is the only one with the full story, he’s the only one who can decide what to do.”
Adrenaline draws reason. Calm in the face of crisis. Adrenaline allows you to do things like make composed agreements with staff sergeants and raise logical questions with directors of residential affairs. Seeing the man you love after you just found out he’s a prisoner flirting with a death sentence? Adrenaline does nothing to help with that.
Kaleb is sifting through a filing cabinet and looks up at the clatter of the closing door.
“Andie. I was beginning to wonder—”
I cut him off with a crash into his chest and wrap my arms around his waist. Zero concern for his ability to breathe.
“What’s this?” he nearly laughs, his own arms tightening around me.
I’m not ready for words. I haven’t figured out how to begin, and right now I’m paralyzed by the security of being close to him. That steady heartbeat, the evidence of his breath on my hair. Life. That’s what I need, his existence wrapped with mine. I don’t want to let him go, terrified he won’t protect himself as much as he needs to. That he’s too good of a person to defeat his nightmare.
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