Her thoughts wind back to Allie. Gonzalez sees her face with that silly grin she always wore when the team was joking around. Her small stature and features made her seem like the eternal high school princess. The look of determination she exhibited when fighting loomed near — completely fearless. Something you wouldn’t expect from just looking at her. Gonzalez remembers the mischievous grin Allie had when they discovered the Twinkies and her pure joy when she brought them out to share with the others in that strange town. Her spirit lifted the team up when times were hard. Allie was her friend and she misses her.
With her elbows on her knees, Gonzalez wraps her hands at the back of her head and grips her hair. Sobs wrack her body as she remembers her friend and the times they had together, even if just for a short time.
Other thoughts come in a jumble — the night runners coming down from the north, the group apparently targeting them, the larger group of night runners somewhere in the vicinity. When will we get a break?
She cries herself out and places her arms back on her legs with a big sigh.
Quit whining like a little girl, she tells herself. We have a secure location with good people. And we have the ability to strike back and strike back hard. We’re alive right now, and that’s all that matters.
Gonzalez reaches down to undo the laces to her other boot, removes it, and drops it next to her other one. She’ll fight, as she and the others have always done — for the soldier next to her and for those they protect.
Wiping the last vestiges of tears away, she settles back on her cot. Tomorrow is another day and she’ll face it as she has all of her other ones. She’ll experience it.
Tempered steel…her last thought as she slips into an exhausted sleep.
Robert climbs the stairs slowly, watching Gonzalez scale the steps ahead of him. He’d like to catch up to her and talk about this evening, but he also doesn’t want to talk with anyone right now. It’s a contradiction within him — the need to talk with someone, yet not wanting to hear the recrimination he feels he deserves. With his hand on the railing, guiding him up another step, he shakes his head. He feels bad about what happened.
I almost killed us all, he thinks, nearing the top of the escalator.
If only he’d looked closer he would have clearly seen those propane tanks. He plays that picture over and over — that one just before giving the order to fire. In his head, he sees those tanks clearly and wonders why he didn’t then. His dad’s only words during the debrief were ‘lesson learned…for all of them’ and that was it.
It beats the shit out of Robert how his dad can brush off significant things like that as if they mean nothing, yet he’ll harp on the smallest of things. Robert remembers asking him about this once. He remembers his dad turning to him and saying, “Because it’s paying attention to the details that’ll keep your ass out of the fire. If you do that, the bigger things will fall into place. Let the larger picture guide you but focus on the details. You can’t create a building if you don’t meticulously lay each brick. On the other hand, you can’t just haphazardly lay bricks and expect a grand building to materialize.” Yeah, his dad loved his metaphors.
However, Robert feels like he let the whole team down. He was given a chance at leadership and he almost killed them. Robert fully expects his dad to relieve him. Oh, he’ll do it quietly and make it seem like it’s not a negative thing, but he’ll do it nonetheless. And Robert doesn’t blame him. They can’t afford mistakes like that. He feels sick to his stomach as he climbs the last step and watches Gonzalez as she makes her way to her quarters.
Standing at the top of the stairs, he rubs the back of head. It still feels tender where he bumped it and he feels the beginnings of a headache coming on. Those terrifying moments play through his mind…
The numerous night runners filling the screen. His watching intently as he gives the order to fire and watches for the explosion on the monitor signifying a hit, ready to follow up with the 40mm and 25mm Gatling gun to finish off any survivors. The monitor going completely white. His confusion. The shout of his dad yelling ‘hang on’ and the aircraft lurching violently to the side. The sudden movement knocking him off his feet from where he was standing behind Gonzalez’ shoulder and slamming him into one of the tables — thankfully he was wearing his helmet.
He remembers trying to scramble to his feet, but unable to do so because of the continued buffeting of the aircraft. Barely able to hear the instructions his dad was yelling and knowing they were as good as dead. They were going down and it was his fault somehow. He still didn’t know what had happened. The panicked fear that the 105mm round had exploded inside the aircraft and tore them apart. Then, suddenly, they were upright again. Climbing to his feet and finding out what had happened. The sick feeling returns in strength to his gut.
He looks over to see Michelle giving him a warm smile near the balcony. Giving a half-hearted smile in return, he walks slowly toward her.
“What’s wrong,” Michelle asks as he draws in front of her.
“Nothing. I’m just tired,” Robert responds.
“Well, let’s get you to bed then,” Michelle says, wrapping her arm in his and leading him toward their room. “How was the flight?”
“It went okay, I guess. We made it back,” Robert answers.
He wants to tell her what happened but, with the sick feeling he has and the oncoming headache, he just doesn’t want to right now. As they draw near the entrance, he hears his dad call from behind. They both turn to see his dad approaching.
“If I could steal him for just a moment longer,” his dad says to Michelle. “I promise I won’t keep him long.”
Oh boy, here it comes, Robert thinks.
“I’ll be right in,” he says to Michelle and walks with his dad to the balcony overlooking the first floor.
“Okay,” she replies and waits near the doorway.
With his elbows resting on the wooden railing, he looks over to his dad leaning over the balcony in a similar position. He looks tired. He’s seen his dad tired before but not like this.
“Look, Dad—” Robert begins.
“Nope. This is where I get to talk and you get to listen,” his dad interrupts. “I know what you’re going through and that you feel like it’s your fault. You feel like you let everyone down and that you shouldn’t be in a leadership position.”
“Yeah. Well—” Robert begins again.
“No, you’re talking again. Now listen. First of all, it’s not your fault, so you can toss that crap out of your head. No one blames you. Yes, you should have taken a look at the surrounding features, but I missed them as well. I was the pilot-in-command and therefore any fault with anything, and I mean anything that happened, is ultimately mine,” his dad says. “Look, leading isn’t about being perfect, but learning from every mistake — one made by you or others. It’s showing by example and, if you do make a mistake, you own it and rise above it. You don’t hang your head down, but lift it up and say, ‘Fuck, I guess I won’t do that again’. The one thing you can’t do is let it destroy your self- confidence. If you do, the mistake wins. If you rise above it and tuck the lesson into your bag of tricks, you win.