Randi turned to Trafford. “Is it my turn now?” she asked.
Trafford smiled at her. “Of course,” he said. “Of course. Go on in.”
Tom was sitting up in bed. His head and one shoulder were bandaged, the skin on his face looked new and tender — but his grin went from ear to ear.
“Hi, honey!” he said.
“Hi, yourself.” She walked over and sat on the edge of his bed. For a moment they just sat. Together. Looking at each other.
“Randi,” Tom said quietly. “What — what really went down? I have to know.”
Randi bit her lip. She made no immediate reply.
“I don't remember a damned thing,” he complained.
“From the moment I came down like a sack of bricks and hit the ground… until I woke up here, smelling of disinfectant and wearing this turban.”
“You look cute in it.” Randi tried to change the subject. He would have none of it.
“What did happen, Randi?”
She looked concerned. “They — they told me not to discuss it with you. Not yet.”
“I want to know,” he said quietly.
She sighed. “You were — running,” he said.
“Running?”
“Yes. Running away. From everyone. From the fears you built up in your own mind. From the demons that existed only in your own head.” She looked at her husband. “We — we all do that. Sometimes. Flee from the demons in our own minds.”
He took her hand. “I'm back, Rand.”
She looked into his eyes. She needed to say nothing — but she did.
“I am — too…”
Paul came into the room.
“Hey,” he called. “You're famous, old cock!” He tossed a newspaper onto Tom's bed. “Friend of mine sent me this.”
Tom picked up the paper. The Berkeley Questioner. On the front page was a photograph of him standing before an F-15 Eagle. An old PR shot. The headline read:
DOWNED PILOT HUNTED IN DESERT
WAR GAMES
IS THE USAF PREPARING FOR MILITARY
INTERVENTION IN THE MIDDLE EAST?
By
“Questioner” Staff Reporter
David Rosenfeld, Jr.
Tom threw the newspaper on the floor. He looked at Randi. “I've got better things to do than being famous,” he said.
He did not see the story on the below-fold front page:
TOP EAST GERMAN INTELLIGENCE OFFICER
KILLED AT BERLIN WALL
COL. GERHARDT SCHARFF SHOT
IN ATTEMPT TO DEFECT
TO THE WEST
He did not see it.
If he had, it would have meant nothing to him.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
IB MELCHIOR is a motion picture writer-director-producer, with 12 feature films and numerous television shows to his credit. He is also the author of two very successful books: The Haigerloch Project and The Watchdogs of Abaddon. Son of the late Wagnerian tenor Lauritz Melchior, he was born and educated in Denmark, and graduated from the University of Copenhagen with a degree in literature and languages. During World War II he served with the OSS and was later transferred to the U.S. Military Intelligence Service, spending two years in the European Theater of War as a military intelligence investigator.