by Anne Fox
“It’s really not as complicated as you think,” Crow said. “Like I’ve said before: we have a ‘gunny’ at the FAA.”
“Maybe if I can get through all of the training, I can think about doing corporate piloting when I decide I’ve had enough of the unit,” Edge said.
“How close are you to soloing?” Hank asked.
“Closer than he thinks,” Cloud said. “Edge is really sort-of a natural.”
“On a completely different topic,” Spud began, “I think maybe we all need to have a talk with Doc Andy.”
“Why?” Edge asked.
“That little event Hank and I staged on him I think might be making him a little gun shy around us.”
“You really think so?” Hank asked.
“You all know about Doc Andy, right?” Spud asked.
“You mean, the fact that he’s gay?” Cloud asked.
“And that we’re all, with the exception of Voice over there, either ex-military or ex-law enforcement. Not occupations typically thought of as tolerant of gays.”
“You really think Doc Andy might have taken offense?” Edge asked.
Spud tapped his fingers on the table. “I think it’s a good bet he did.”
“Can’t have that,” Crow said. “I’ve told that guy things I’d never tell anyone else.”
“Well, I think if he’s still here, we should head to the library and then get him to join us for a chat.”
“I haven’t seen him leave,” Cloud said.
“No time like the present, then,” Spud said, getting up. “We can clean up the cafeteria and kitchen when we’re done.”
The team headed out the door, giving a glance to Doc Andy’s office as they passed it, and headed through Honor Way on the way to the library, taking a moment to tap each of the niches that contained the urns of the unit’s fallen as they passed. Once they’d taken seats in the library, Spud called Doc Andy over the comm link. “Medical 3, could the team ask you to join us in the library?”
There was no answer, but in a couple of minutes the doctor appeared at the door.
“Some kind of ‘come to Jesus’ meeting?”
“Maybe for us. Not for you,” Hank said.
Doc Andy gave her his usual one eyebrow raised, but otherwise emotionless look.
“We’re feeling a little guilty about the other day.”
“Why?”
“Well... You know that we all know you’re gay, right? We got to thinking that maybe you took offense at what Spud and I did.”
Atypically, the doctor’s face expressed surprise. “I didn’t realize any of you knew that I’m gay.”
“We don’t mention it to you because it doesn’t matter to us,” Edge said.
“We all appreciate you for the professional that you are,” Cloud added. “And we recognize that there are a lot of odd things about being the psychiatrist who cares for us. Our situation is a bit... unique.”
“He’s trying to say we’re all just a seven-member dysfunctional family,” Edge said, getting the team members laughing.
“With a couple of the kids being a bit more dysfunctional than the others,” Crow added, pointing at Hank and Spud.
“It’s not my fault,” Spud protested.
“The fuck you say!” Hank protested in return. “Every one of those pranks has been your idea.”
“Including going down to the cafeteria to flash your scanty panties after we got approved as a spousal unit?” Spud asked.
“That was their fault for honing in on our biometric readouts while we were... enjoying each other after recovering from our surgeries.”
The other team members laughed.
“And then, what happened next? You,” she emphasized to Spud, “had to go grab coffee even though we already had some. Of course, why you other guys believed for one minute that I could possibly allow my quarters to run out of coffee is beyond me.”
“I did think that odd at the time,” Cloud said. “And ‘once a king, always a king, but once a night isn’t enough for her’? Takes two to tango, Spud.”
The team laughed again.
Doc Andy then added, a hint of a grin on his face but the tone in his voice not betraying his amusement, “The biometrics actually indicated that Hank was not the one who initiated most of the evening’s marathon activities, either.”
Spud turned distinctly red.
“Ah ha!” the team members all exclaimed simultaneously.
“Turns out the grand old man is just a dirty old man,” Cloud grinned.
“That, too, is not my fault.”
“Now he’s going to blame that on me, too,” Hank pouted.
“You’re the one who parades around naked every time the door closes.”
“Maybe we should be having this conversation in Doc Andy’s office,” Cloud remarked, “in case the rest of us need to replenish from his special drawer.”
“Which we appreciate, Doc Andy,” Crow said. “Ain’t none of us taken a vow of celibacy, and Spud isn’t sharing.”
“Dios mío,” Amigo chuckled. “The man with the demeanor to stand next to a President as a Secret Service agent would bust the jaw of anyone who tried to propose that.”
“You’re damned right,” Spud said. “Besides, Voice has got a girl, too,” he jabbed. “She’s inflatable, but that’s another story.”
“That’s his fault,” Voice said, pointing at Doc Andy.
“I may have placed it in the drawer,” Doc Andy began by way of a calm and measured protest, “but I am not the one who removed it.”
“He’s got you there,” Cloud said.
“I am also not the one who removed the rather substantial object that has been the source of so many pranks,” the doctor added, looking squarely at Hank.
It was Hank’s turn to turn red. “Hey. They all know about it. I told them, for Chrissake.”
“In a fit of anger,” Crow observed.
“More like...” she began, “...sexual frustration,” she muttered.
“That, and having dropped it on the team table in the cafeteria the other day...” Crow added.
“I guess I haven’t heard all of this story,” Amigo said, curious.
“And you can just stay in the dark,” Spud said. The men who had been in the unit at the time grew serious, eyeing Spud to see if he was truly annoyed. Seeing a little smile on his face, they relaxed.
“Mistakes were certainly made in the past,” Doc Andy observed. “Hopefully, similar mistakes won’t be made in the future.”
“Well... we just wanted to make sure we didn’t make a mistake the other day,” Spud said with sincerity.
“In retrospect, it really was pretty funny,” Doc Andy admitted. “And you know, it’s a simple fact that humans are one of the few animals that engage in sex simply for the pleasure of it. I try to keep that in mind by not only keeping a well-stocked drawer, but encouraging those of you who have no human companionship to utilize its contents. But just the same, when you believe that a couple before you are about to have sexual relations on your couch and in your presence, and they have, as a prank, made it seem to appear that the male half of the couple is well-equipped and prepared for the event, being asked if you can do the honor of lubricating the appropriate portion of his anatomy – or so you believe - can naturally come as a shock.”
The entire team collapsed in laughter.
“You were quite correct, Edge,” Doc Andy continued, “when you said you are a seven-member dysfunctional family. Even more correct when Crow pointed out the two most dysfunctional members of the group, if you want to call it dysfunctionality. But then, I’d concluded that all of you are completely insane a long time ago. Absolutely batshit crazy.” He smiled at them.
“It goes with the territory, Doc,” Edge said, his tone serious. “Before I’m done with this sentence, we could get a call to complete a mission that could leave one or more of us dead. That’s our reality. So, if we have a couple of pranksters, they just serve to remind us to live it
up while we can. And frankly, seeing how much that man loves that woman and how much that woman loves him in return brings a little warmth into the very cold part of the world that we’re asked to deal with. If our missions were all we got to see, we’d probably each burn out after the first one. Just look at the last mission. We had to deal with a man so power-hungry he was willing to spend millions to get others to kill. Five hundred and seventy-three people died just to make people afraid enough to think handing him control of the country would be a solution. And it would have been more if we hadn’t brought him to justice. Plus, he would have, in the end and in all likelihood, killed the over six hundred people he’d recruited to kill for him as well.”
“Five hundred and seventy-five dead,” Hank said. Tears formed in her eyes. “One swallowed cyanide in front of me.” Her voice faltered, and choking, she said, “And I had to shoot one of them,” tears brimming over her eyes and running down her cheeks.
The team sat, somber, Edge’s words striking a cord in each of them, Hank’s tears reminding them of their own personal demons over past events.
And I was afraid I’d never have a serious conversation with them again.
“I think at this point it would be a good idea for all of you to stay here and see if Hal can find a good comedy for you to watch. Don’t worry about cleaning up in the cafeteria. I’ll do that for you. Then I think I’ll head home. I’m sure my partner is waiting for me.” Doc Andy stood and walked over to Hank. Leaning over close to her ear, he quietly said, “Come see me.” Then he walked from the library. As he turned to walk down Honor Way, he heard Voice remark, “Doc Andy’s a good guy.” “Amen,” the rest of the team answered. Smiling, he headed to the cafeteria to do the dishes.
3
“Ok,” Voice began as he sat down with the team to discuss mission training. “I’ve been working on a new routine for Hal for handling communications.”
“What’s wrong with the old one?” Edge asked.
“My biggest hate about it is that if you want to have a continuing conversation with someone, you still have to say either their name or their unit designation first. So, say I want to talk to you, Edge. I have to say, ‘Edge, do you have an eye on our perp?’ And then you have to say, ‘Voice, I have him in sight.’ And then I have to say, ‘Edge, blah blah blah.’ It would be a lot simpler if we could do what I’m trying to get Hal to do right now. Which is this: when I want to have that conversation, I say, ‘Hal, Voice with Edge,’ and then we both just converse the way we’re conversing now. ‘Do you have an eye on our perp?’ ‘I have him in sight.’ Blah blah blah.”
“How hard a task is that?” Cloud asked.
“Not hard if there’s only one conversation going on, but the trick comes in when there are multiple conversations. Say, I want to talk to Edge, and you want to talk to Crow. Right now, Hal knows which of us to isolate a comm link to because we tell Hal which one to isolate it to. Hal interprets a pause as being the end of a conversation. So, what I have to get Hal to do is ignore a pause, or at least not interpret it as an end to a conversation. And then comes the hard part: I have to get Hal to know our voices. Which is where I’m going to need you guys to give me help. I’ve written a voice recognition learning program for Hal, that includes learning what our voices sound like when we’re under duress, shouting, etc. Once Hal knows which voice goes with which team member, then I have to get it to be able to do the voice identification quickly enough so that comm isn’t delayed.”
“What do we need to do for Hal to learn our voices?” Spud asked.
“For the program I’ve written, it’s as simple as talking to it. Go to the library and read from a book or something. All you do is say, ‘Hal, learn Spud.’ Hal will respond via comm link by saying, ‘I’m listening, Spud.’ I have the program respond back with your name so you know Hal is actually learning you and not someone else. Then the next time you do a learning session, ask first: ‘Hal, who am I?’ If Hal calls you Edge, then you know it’s not done learning you yet.” Voice shrugged. “And for all I know, my program won’t work and Hal will never know who’s talking to it.”
“Voice, this could have applications beyond just simplifying our communications,” Hank said.
“I don’t follow you,” Voice replied.
“We could get Hal to learn one or more perps as well. Last mission, we had phone conversations going on with the perps using burners, so we couldn’t track them by tracking phone numbers. But if Hal could learn their voices, then we could feed Hal the NSA data and it could go through the recordings and pick up the ones with matching voices.”
Voice sighed. “Maybe. But with three hundred and twenty-eight million citizens in the United States, there’s a good possibility that Hal will suffer some cases of mistaken identity as well.”
“So, we have to sort through some of the conversations. It’s no different than what the NSA already has to do. But I think it’s a given that we’d have far fewer conversations to weed through than looking for words or phrases that might include lots of irrelevant conversations,” Edge said.
“The priority right now though, is to see if I can write the correct code that will allow Hal to learn all of our voices. Once I can get Hal to correctly recognize all of us, then I can see about writing code to allow continuous conversations. After that, I can experiment with routines that would allow Hal to track perps.”
“We keep telling you that you’re a fucking genius, Voice,” Edge said, eliciting grins from the rest of the team. “I figure if you can make surveillance drones out of the graphene scraps left over from making bullet-proof vests, this ought to be easy.”
“That’s all I’ve got,” Voice said. “I think Crow is next?”
“Just an update on the pilot training going on so we’ll be able to take both of the Latitudes if need be,” Crow said. “Hank is getting ready for the fun stuff: cross-country flying, and then we’ll get our FAA gunny in here for her checkride. Or rather, into Stafford, given the MCAS is within the DC Special Flight Rules Area. Edge is right on her heels, and Cloud and I expect him to solo soon.”
“Which Edge can’t wait for,” Edge interjected.
“Another thing Cloud and I have been considering is that, once we make the move to Nebraska, it will probably be a good idea to get another person on the support team. We’re going to need a mechanic.”
“This is a bit of a different personnel request. Do you have someone in mind?” Voice asked.
“Actually, yes,” Crow answered. “We had a guy who worked for us when I was in the DEA flight wing. He’s a fairly young guy with a real good set of hands, and doing work for the DEA knows the concept of ‘don’t talk.’ His name’s Frank Hughes.”
“Do we want to ask that he get in here early so he’s completely on board when we go to make the move, even though the move isn’t for at least another year?” Voice asked.
“I don’t see how it could hurt,” Cloud said. “He’s got a wife, but they’ve moved before so I doubt it would be an issue for him.”
“Is he currently in the local area?”
“No. He’s at El Paso, Texas. El Paso International. Working for the DHS.”
“Does this mean a trip out to El Paso to see if he wants the job?” Amigo asked.
“That’s what it means,” Voice said, “once we get authorization to make the hire.”
“This one shouldn’t require the whole works, I’d imagine,” Spud said. “I imagine the two of you can do the recruiting task, especially as Crow apparently knows him.”
“Only problem with that is, neither of us has ever done any recruiting. I’d feel better with someone a bit more experienced along,” Crow said. “Plus, he can’t know about me until he signs on, my being dead and all.”
“He’s got a wife. I’m going to suggest we skip the hat this time and just send our married couple,” Voice said.
“I’m game,” Spud said. “How ‘bout you, Hank? After all, Cloud won’t have to put a glass up agains
t the wall if we decide we want to join the Mile High Club.”
Hank turned red while the rest of the team snickered.
“First hurdle to clear is getting approval from those above,” Voice remarked. “Once we know we can make the hire and have it done sooner rather than later, then we can plan the rest of it.”
Amigo and Hank hauled their gear from the back of the SUV they’d driven to Quantico’s Range 15 and proceeded to set up at the firing point. Their regular routine when practicing had evolved to setting up both sniper rifles with a spotting scope between them and then alternating who would shoot and who would spot.
“Call it,” Amigo said, taking out a quarter and flipping it in the air.
“Heads.”
He caught the flipped coin and slapped it on the back of his hand. “Heads it is. You shoot first.”
They sat back and waited while Luigi came back up range after setting out the challenge of the day.
“What’s down there for us, Luigi?” Hank asked as Luigi walked to the firing point.
“You’ve got a loverly bunch of coconuts,” Luigi said, grinning.
“You’re sadistic, Luigi. Just had to give us something that neither the shooter nor the spotter can find in all the brown grass and earth.”
“You forget. I’m out here with you two every time you decide that it’s time to practice snipin’. Cans of peas with green labels in the green grass doesn’t bother you. Besides, I get tired of havin’ to run back down there and collect up all the cans.”
“We can’t just leave a bunch of broken coconuts down there, either,” Amigo said.
“Why not?” Luigi asked. “The minute this range goes inactive, all the little critters that live out in the trees on either side of the target area will come out and have some coconut pie. They’ll probably carry off the shells, too.”
“You may be a top-notch gunsmith, Luigi, but you’re going to piss off the Marine Range Control people and make it so we can’t practice out here anymore,” Hank said. “Then where will we go so you can tell if your latest tweaks have worked?”
“You’ve got a point, but I’m not goin’ to go pick ‘em up. They’re biodegradable. Ain’t nobody goin’ down there to see them anyways. Besides, the Marines get pissed we’ll just have to make our way out to Nebraska a little sooner.”