50
“How are you feeling, Sergeant?” Elizabeth asked. A few more hours had passed. Though she was in much need for information, she knew it would take time. Time she didn’t have.
“Fair, I suppose,” York responded.
“Did you get some rest?”
“A little.”
“And still no fighting. Looks like we’re making progress, Sergeant York.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he muttered.
“Did the books help? I didn’t know which genre you like, and there weren’t many selections on the shelves.”
“Yeah, sure did. Read a bit, got some sleep. Guess things are better, even though I’m still your prisoner,” he retorted.
“After this chat, you’ll receive some time outside. Sun’s going down, but a little fresh air might help. Does that sound good, Sergeant?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yeah, sure does.”
“Of course, rules still apply. Under guard and shackled. But an hour to look up at the stars.”
“I could use some exercise,” York stated. “Helps keep the anger down a bit.”
“Well, maybe we can arrange for your shackles to be off inside your room.”
“You mean, my cell?”
“You could at least get some exercise. We’ll go from there,” Elizabeth said, writing in her notepad.
“I’ll take what I can get,” York said.
“Good. Now, though you’ll likely remain a bit groggy, you’ve been off the meds most of the day. Is it helping?”
“I guess so. I’m not so jumbled.”
“Are you depressed, Sergeant York?”
“You going to put me back on anti-depressants?” he asked.
“No. I just assume you are.”
“Sure as fuck am. Try being a prisoner, tied up, beat up. Try being a member of The Unit that’s hidden away. Try getting asked a million questions. Try getting told you’re crazy. ’Cause lady, they think I’m crazy. You do too, don’t you?” York asked.
“No, Sergeant York, I do not think you’re crazy. Now, if we can make some progress, I hope to release you from this facility as soon as I think you’re ready. You’ll undergo mandatory counseling, and trust me, you’ll be under close scrutiny. But all in all, I hope to make you a free man soon. I hope to release you into the real world,” Elizabeth said, her voice opportunistic.
“Ma’am, Afghanistan is the real world.”
“I hope to get you back to the States in little time. Back to your family, back home. This incident has been horrific for you, I can only imagine. I hope with some time and help, you’ll go on with life,” she encouraged.
“You think I want out? I ain’t leaving the Army. I’m Delta, and intend to keep it that way. That is, unless they’re giving me the boot.”
“Your superiors speak highly of you. Commander McClain, even General Kline spoke nice words. I’ll see what I can do, maybe there’s a way you can stay. But to be honest, I doubt you’ll see combat again. But there’s many opportunities. Other members of The Unit would benefit greatly from your experience. Perhaps a training position. Perhaps strategy.”
“Go fuck yourself,” York exclaimed, leaning forward. His calm demeanor changed in an instant. “I’m sure you’ll report your opinion, just like the rest. That I’m not fit for combat. That I’m fucked up in the head. No longer an asset.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you will. Go fuck yourself,” he repeated.
“Now listen, Sergeant, I’ve done a lot to help you. I’ve done it quickly, to show some good faith. You’ve experienced something more horrific than any man I’ve ever known. Ever! You went up against something that no one else ever has, and you survived. You alone.”
“I sure fucking did,” he replied, as if uncomfortable of this fact.
“I’m sorry, but there’s no way they’ll allow you back into combat. Doesn’t mean you won’t remain with 1st SFOD-D. Doesn’t mean you won’t be important.”
“What, some desk jockey? Maybe a pencil pusher. Or maybe I can spend my days yelling at new recruits. You think that’s why I’m here, lady? Maybe I’ll finish my service, grow to be an old man, and tell war stories that nobody will listen to. That’s my future?” he exclaimed.
“You really want to stay in? Full duty?” she asked.
“Sure as fuck do. And I’m sick of waiting. I’ll answer your little fucking questions all day, but I want out of this shit-hole. I’m ready for some action, and if you don’t allow it, I’ll find a way.”
“I don’t believe that’s wise, but we’ll speak on that matter later. You’ve been helpful and candid, so perhaps I’ll suggest active duty. We’ll see. We have much ground to cover first.”
“Then get on with it,” he demanded.
“Khost.”
“Khost. Yup, it’s hell on earth.”
“I’d like to speak more about the valley. The cave.”
“You watched the interrogations, right? You heard my answers,” he said.
“Many times. But I’d like to hear them once more, if you don’t mind.”
“What’s in it for me?” he asked, a grin on his face. “You gonna threaten to drug me again if I don’t talk?”
“I don’t work that way. Provided you remain calm and don’t pick fights, you’ll keep those privileges.”
“Privileges, eh? Wow, I’m a lucky man.”
“You should take what you can get, Sergeant York. Now if we’re bartering, what exactly do you want? I gave you books, some time outdoors, even a bit of exercise. Your meals are better. What else?” she asked bluntly. She had little time. Her team briefing would be soon, and she still had much to do.
“Take these off?” York requested, pulling his hands from the table, motioning to the chains. “And get me some smokes. Matches, an ashtray. A Coke, too. Shit, been weeks since I’ve had any of ’em.” York stared at the woman. This was the ultimate test, this would determine their understanding from now on.
Elizabeth thought a moment. She wasn’t the sort to answer on impulse. She weighed her options, then without saying a word, she stood up from her seat. York began to ask where she was going, but Elizabeth ignored the man. She proceeded to the door, rapped, and after a buzz the door opened. She was greeted by four guards, anxious looks on their faces.
The dialogue lasted a few minutes. It appeared as if they disagreed, were trying to dissuade her.
Elizabeth always got her way.
The woman finally turned, the door shutting behind, and sat back down. She looked at her notes, ignoring York, remaining silent.
“What was that all about?” he finally asked. The quiet bothered him.
But Elizabeth didn’t answer. Instead, she held up her index finger, signaling for him to be patient. It took a few minutes of awkward silence before the buzz of the door sounded again. In walked five men.
Four were guards, heavily armed, carbines pointed in his direction. A large Sergeant spoke carefully to York, saying, “I’m going to undo these chains.”
“Really?” York said, looking at Elizabeth. It was almost humorous to him. Was this really happening?
“I’ll undo your leg shackles first, then your arms. You will remain seated. You won’t move an inch. Your hands will remain where I can see them at all times. Understood?” the Sergeant asked.
York glanced up, grinning. “Sure thing.”
“Not an inch,” the Sergeant warned again.
“I won’t give you trouble,” York promised.
The Sergeant nodded, leaning in closer, whispering, “General Kline has given me the order to shoot you if you try anything. Anything at all. I don’t want to do that, but I sure will. You will be alone with this woman, and I’ll be watching through that mirror. You make any sudden movement, I’ll assume the worse.”