Page 4 of Wolf
“Dawn’s dead,” he says, his face in a mask of ice now that I’ve brought up such a sensitive subject. His wife, Dawndied?
“I’m sorry. Didn’t know…Howlong?”
“Two weeks.” His face is stone cold for a while, but as we’re both waiting and can’t leave, he tries to relax. “I was in Karachi when it happened. Just got State-side,” he explains, each word clipped andcutting.
Dawn and I go way back. We did basic training together when I first enlisted. I’m actually the one who introduced the two of them. Everyone who met them thought they could be the poster children for finding love within the ranks. She took a training job at one of the bases in Texas about a year after Bridges and I joined the company. I want to ask how she passed away, but can’t bring myself to open such awound.
He digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “If you’re going to be around, her mother’s holding a smaller wake for me and some of the other soldiers who knewher.”
“Of course.When?”
“A weekSaturday.”
“Shit. They’re sending me on a new gig as of the day after tomorrow. I can try to move thingsaround—”
“It’s okay,” he says, going cold again. “Duty calls. I get it. That’s how I missed hercremation.”
“Give me the info anyway, in case something changes,” I tell him, though it’s close to impossible that I’ll have any scheduling changes. That right there is one of the big downsides of the jobs we do. We work alone. No exceptions. We don’t call in sick, and there’s no backup ever on an entire assignment. Sure, we can bring a resource in for a specific, very time-limited task within an assignment, like a large weapons drop-off or a coordinated raid. But when we’re out on a job, we’re off the grid and inaccessible. That kind of thing can be taxing on a relationship. In circumstances like Bridges’, evenworse.
“How about a beer?” I ask. I feel responsible for this man being in a world of hurt right now. I hooked these two up, and now the woman he was crazy about is gone. The irony of all this is that I always thought Dawn would be the one having a beer with one of us, not us for her. She was in a training job on US soil, for fuck’ssake.
He takes a minute to think about it. “When?”
“Now?”
He checks the time on his phone. “All right, sure. I can swing that. How about over at Dexter’s Bar and Grill in anhour?”
“I’ll be there,” I confirm, heading for my ride with mythings.
A beer and a meal don’t seem like near enough, but it’s the least I can do to support the guy and take a minute to honor Dawn before this next jobstarts.
* * *
“What the fuck, Bridges? Calm your ass down!” I pull my old buddy off of some big fucking guy at Dexter’s Bar and Grill a few hours later. I force his arms together behind his back and drag him out the front door to end the fight he started. I don’t fucking know what it wasabout.
“Just like old times,” Bridges laughs, palming the side of his face where a man twice his size punchedhim.
I shake my head. “Yeah, you with your face bashed in, and me having to either bail your ass out of county lockup, drag you to an emergency ward, or dump your ass into a bathtub to sober you up after abender.”
He repeatedly nods, looking nostalgic, like he misses all the shit we’d get ourselves into during our downtime. “Exactly,” he slurs. “Good times. Hey, how about you join me tomorrow at the range? Target practice, for old time’ssake?”
“Sure,” I answer, as I have a day to spare. “Someone’s got to be around to keep you out oftrouble.”
“You have a point there.” I walk him to his truck, and he leans against it, pensive. “This job here… working for our employer. You think it’s a goodthing?”
That question is a double edge sword. Working for an employer like ours isn’t for everyone. I mean, most of our assignments end up with someone’s clock stopping. Sometimes, we’re the ones who may bite the dust. We get an order, and we follow it. The pay is decent, the risks are high, and we know never to ask the wrongquestions.
I answer him with, “When you train a dog to bite and don’t let go, is it a good thing when he doesit?”
He nods with understanding. “Dawn wasn’t out in Texas when she died,” he says, his voicesomber.
“Where was she?” He gives me a hard look, and I know it’s not good. “Are you trying to tell me that she took a job with ourpeople?”
He shakes his head. “No, man. But it was some outfit that sounded just like it. Same off-the-books gigs, but…” he straightens up when one of the men from inside passes byus.
“Hang on.” I head back inside and order two black coffees from the counter. They’re both for him, as I’ve learned to stick to my two-drink limit whenever I hang with him. Fitting them onto a cardboard tray, I carry them outside to him. “Here. Don’t fucking drive until you see the bottom of these cups. Take a leak too… But not inthere.”
He huffs out a laugh and pats my shoulder. “Thanks,man.”
