A few minutes later, exactly as promised,
just as the team exited the long ramp
leading into the terminal, all the wives and
children and family members that you would
normally expect to be there gave the men a
well deserved greeting. Some of Blake’s
rock climbing buddies were there, too, along
with his parents. This was when airport
security used to let the waiting public
greet their friends right as they exited
the aircraft.
“Blake,” Sutton said, “I’ve got some
debriefing to take care of but I’ve been doing some thinking and I’ve
got something important to discuss with you.
Something really important. I’ll call you in
a couple of days.”
“Sure, Mr. Sutton, I’ll be home.”
“Good, you’ll be hearing from me soon. Hey,
watch out for that crew of yours. They look
more dangerous than Lt. Ngo’s men.”
While the rest of Sutton’s team made their
way home, because he didn’t have a family
waiting to greet him, Sutton decided to make
his way toward the Pentagon. General Samm
was expecting his report and after getting a
hotel room he planned to call for an
appointment. Outside, trying to flag down a
taxi, it was just as hot as it had been in
Hanoi. There are some things you can
never escape.
Because of a traffic accident, it took the
cab almost two hours to finally make it over
to the Holiday Inn. Sutton kept
thinking about Nick’s letter.
________________________________________
General Samm! Yes Sir, hello. Oh, not much
hotter than here. OK, tomorrow morning at
9:30 is fine. Yes, everything went well. Just
great. Blake held up better than the rest of
us. Yes Sir, Roberts made all the
arrangements—and
General Chin sends his regards. He thanks
you for the gift. Yes Sir, the film’s been
developed. But General, there’s one other
thing. Oh—Ok, I understand. Yes Sir—I’ll
give you a complete briefing in the morning.
No, 9:30 is perfect. I’m going to bed early
and I’ll see you in the morning. Ok, see you
then.
Compared to the hotel that Sutton and his
team had stayed at in Hanoi, the
Holiday Inn seemed like a palace.
The sheets were fresh and the room ice cold.
After a thick steak and a baked potato,
Sutton made his way down the carpeted
hallway to the bar. It was only 6 p.m.
Inside, Ebb Tide was playing softly
in the background. Perfect. Sutton took a
seat and adjusted his chair. The bartender
was in his late 40s and had a soothing
voice. Sutton ordered a cold beer. With that
finally in front of him he took out his
Colibri and lit one of his JR cigars,
taking note that he needed to buy more.
Lifting the tall glass to his lips and
tasting the cold beer in his mouth, for the
first time in what seemed liked months,
Sutton felt relief. It would take three,
maybe four more beers to finish off the
cigar. That was exactly what he wanted—time
to think.
But really there was only one thing to
think about—Eleni. She had to be told. She
had to be given the letter. Such a terrible
thing had happened to her husband. Her
country had let her down. Sutton also
thought about Nick. God, what a shame!
After all he went through—first
abandoned—near death—then rescued and nursed
back to health—only to be snared by the
clutches of death a second time. No
matter how much Sutton thought about it or
felt sorry, the shame remained. It just
wasn’t right what had happened. Of course,
other men face injustice and learn to move
on. In time they probably don’t even give
it a second thought. But this had become far
too personal for that. For over an hour
Sutton sat at the bar, trying to enjoy his
fine cigar—thinking.
________________________________________
General Samm, nice to see you again—how’s
the family?
Thank you, Sutton. Everyone’s fine. Please
take a seat. Did you get a good night’s
sleep?
Yes Sir. Probably the best I’ve slept in
weeks.
Well, good. OK, let’s see those photographs.
Sutton reached down for his brown briefcase
and placed it in his lap, his fingers
reaching to release the two metal buckles.
