and his fight has panic in it.I wonder if he has any plans
or if he is just as desperate as I am?
―Ernest Hemingway
Confrontation
What did I take away from years of combat in Afghanistan? A pervasive existential fear of the unknown.
In the mountains are the same beings that inhabit deserts―they're malicious and patient―appearing occasionally and then melting back into nothingness.
Always there...waiting...observant.
And they'll kill you in a heartbeat.
It's intimidating but I'm determined to confront my stalker. So, where do I intend to meet my fate?
Why the ridge on my land, of course―somewhere high, vulnerable and completely open.
Some may think that's reckless but why else would a man be tempted out of hiding unless the bait was incredibly enticing?
I'd do it now but it's already late, so I'm aiming for tomorrow―darkness would only favour the sniper and Neil needs time to move his pieces into position.
It's maddening to have to wait even a minute more though. I'm reminded of Pharoah asking Moses to get rid of a plague of frogs. Moses asked him to set the time and Pharoah answered, tomorrow.
Yeah, resigned to another night of plague―in my case, another night alone with August storms making a dreadful pudder over my head.
I'm home now and watching the storm thrash the trees outside my window. Its intensity and power remind me of the concussive blasts of mortars in the Afghan mountains.
It's only mid-August but the temperature has dropped to sixty and I shiver a bit staring through rain trails at the silvery wetness.
Maybe I'm tired or maybe I'm scared―I don't know―I listen to my body and hear my heart beating wildly and conclude I'm trembling, so back in front of the fire I go where at least the heat can soothe me.
"You don't have to do this, you know."
I jump, muscles taut and slow to react and mind too numb to form a plan.
Sarah is standing in the shadowy doorway, a look of profound sadness upon her face.
"How..how did you get in?" I stammer.
She simply shakes her head and says solemnly, "the door was unlocked and the alarm off. What the hell, Scott? I'm not going to let you do this."
"What are you going to do—tie me to my bed?"
"No," she smirks, "you might like that. You've good intentions but you're just too wounded. You can't carry this off and you know it."
"Oh, here we go—the invisible wounds of war speech—spare me the lecture."
Suddenly my arms are twisted behind me and my face hits the wall so hard my cheek is bruised by the force of her pinning me.
"You don't have special forces training—Hec Sharp does. What makes you think he's going to snipe at you from a nearby ridge when he can finish you off up close and personal?"
She releases me and my knees give out, but she grabs me under my arms to keep me from falling.
Great, just great! I muse, more embarrassed than angry how she can easily manhandle me.
Her flashing eyes soften when she sees my face. "Damn! I didn't mean to do that."
"No, but you meant to shame me—put me in my place. Okay, you win—I can't fight you or Hec in hand to hand combat, but dammit, I'm not doing this to act like a man, I'm doing it to be a target. That's the whole point."
"So, he goes to cut your throat and I sweep in and save you?"
"Something like that," I mutter, touching my face and wincing.
She goes to the kitchen and gets ice and a washcloth. “Sit down while I take care of that."
I obey, not wanting to kiss the wall again.
She daubs at the bruise with the cold washcloth and I flinch in spite of myself.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"Just teach me a lesson?" I grunt.
"Yeah, it wasn't really thought out well."
"Well, at least we know in a fight you'd win."
"Yeah, but I've never won before with you.”
I stare into her sad eyes and know what she means—I don’t know how I know, but I do and a dozen lives unfold before me like accordion photos falling from a wallet.
“I never meant to hurt you,” I say hoarsely.
A tear rolls down her cheek. “And you never meant to leave me, but you did.”
“Is that what you’re afraid of—it happening again?”
She didn’t say it, just nodded her head and without having to think about it she was in my arms and I was kissing away her pain…as I always did…
And yes, it was happening again.