Page 56 of Crocodile Tears
“How did you end up working with Javier?”Becci asks Captain Miranda during a quieter stretch of the journey.
“Javier helped my nephew avoid some legal complications involving environmental activism and government mineral rights,” Miranda says in careful English.“Sometimes, the official legal system doesn’t protect people who need protection most.”
Becci nods with obvious understanding.“Academic research faces similar challenges when it conflicts with commercial interests.”
“Exactly.Occasionally, good people need unofficial help with official problems.”
The conversation continues as we navigate downstream toward our extraction point.Miranda shares stories about other researchers and activists she’s helped while Becci explains the ethical complexities of genetic research that could have military applications.
I listen while monitoring our surroundings for potential threats.The tactical side of my brain catalogs defensive positions and escape routes, but another part appreciates the easy camaraderie developing between the two women.Miranda represents the kind of person I’ve spent years protecting through various operations while Becci represents someone whose work could genuinely improve the world if it stays in the right hands.
“Cal?”Becci says during a lull in the conversation, “what happens when we get home?”
The question forces me to stop for a moment and think things through.“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what happens to us?Does this end when we’re back in civilization, or does it continue into whatever normal looks like?”
I study her expression while formulating my response.She’s asking about more than just romantic prospects.She’s asking whether what we’ve discovered together can survive in environments that don’t involve life-threatening situations and tactical problem-solving.“That depends on what kind of normal you want.”
“What kind of normal do you want?”
The question hits at the core of everything I’ve been reconsidering about civilian transition.“I thought I wanted predictable civilian routines that don’t involve tactical planning or international travel.Now, I’m not sure predictable is what either of us needs.”
Becci grins while continuing her botanical documentation.“Predictable sounds disappointingly boring after the past few days.”
“Most people prefer boring to life-threatening.”
“Most people don’t have doctorates in biochemistry and crocodile physiology.”
Captain Miranda laughs from her position at the boat’s controls.“Most people also don’t conduct scientific research while escaping from badhombres.”
The remainder of our river journey passes in comfortable conversation punctuated by Becci’s ongoing scientific observations and my periodic security assessments.By the time we reach Puerto Limón in Costa Rica, I’ve reached several conclusions about our situation and our future prospects.
Becci represents everything I thought I wanted in civilian life: intelligence, passion, dedication to meaningful work, and complete acceptance of aspects of myself I’ve always considered liabilities.She also represents everything I thought I was leaving behind: adventure, danger, tactical challenges, and the need to apply military skills to complex problems.
Maybe the goal isn’t choosing between my old life and civilian routine.Maybe the goal is finding someone who appreciates both aspects of who I am and building something that incorporates the best of both worlds.“Miranda,” I say as we approach the dock, “Thank you for everything.”
She secures the boat with practiced efficiency while responding.“Thank you for giving me passengers who appreciate the complexity of difficult choices.Most people want simple solutions to complicated problems.”
Becci gathers her specimen collection and prepares to disembark.“Most people don’t have the luxury of choosing between simple solutions and effective solutions.”
“Exactly,” Miranda agrees while helping us onto the dock.
As we walk toward the contact who’ll provide our clean passports and transportation home, I think about the future.Transitioning to complete civilian life would be easier than building a relationship with someone whose work attracts international criminal attention, but easier doesn’t necessarily mean better.“Becci?”
“Yes?”
“When we get home, I want to continue this.Whatever this is, whatever it becomes, I want to find out together.”
She stops walking and turns to face me with the kind of serious expression she uses for important decisions.“Even though my research will probably continue attracting the wrong kind of attention?”
“Especially because your research will continue attracting the wrong kind of attention.”I reach for her hand and find it warm and steady.“I’m good at handling the wrong kind of attention.”
“And I’m good at handling complex research with potentially dangerous applications.”
“We make a good team.”
She grins with satisfaction as though she’s just solved a particularly challenging equation.“We make an excellent team.The data supports that conclusion.”
