Chapter 2: A Somewhat Friendly Chat

Pulling up at the McCreary's house, Josh steeled himself for what he had to do and the likely difficulties involved. Combing his hair, he tried to make himself more presentable. Josh had always been intimidated by Becky's father, Jonathan McCreary (who always insisted on Josh calling him by his full name). As a retired military man, he was a difficult task master and he'd ridden Josh hard, measuring him against an imaginary role he couldn't match. This was not going to be an easy discussion.

The McCrearys moved in shortly before Josh and Becky started high school. Becky's mother, Susan, had insisted she remain in the same school throughout her high school years. Her father had taken that as a subtle hint and decided to retire shortly thereafter. He'd married late, being married to his job, and his younger wife didn't have the same dour mindset as her husband.

Josh approached the front door, swallowing the rising lump in his throat as he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants so he wouldn't come off as nervous as he was. He was about to ring the bell when he reconsidered, knocking instead. Somehow ringing the bell seemed more impulsive, less 'serious', and he was very concerned with sending Col. McCreary the right message.

"Well hello, Joshua," Susan McCreary said as she opened the door, smiling broadly. "It's been a long time since we've seen you around here. How have you been?"

"I've been fine, Mrs. McCreary," Josh replied, smiling easily at Becky's always friendly mother. "Is your husband home?"

"Yes, Becky told us to expect you. He's waiting for you in his den," she explained, welcoming him into the house. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, thank you," he responded nervously. "I'm in a bit of a rush and really can't spend a lot of time."

"Very well... , uh, may I ask what this regards?" she asked curiously.

"I'm sorry, but this is private between Jonathan and me and I really can't discuss it," Josh answered, feeling even more awkward. "What's more, it'd be better if you didn't press him for any details."

"I see," she said simply, giving him an odd appraising look. "Becky wanted me to tell you that she's unavailable and locked in her room upstairs," she explained, smiling sympathetically. "She says that if you try to disturb her she'll be listening to her music, unable to hear your pleas."

Josh shrugged. "This really isn't about her, but she doesn't seem to be willing to accept that. I've learned my lesson. I'm not about to bother her anymore, but you'd think the friendship we had for so many years before we got involved would allow for a little hospitality."

"She's been a little funny concerning you since before you broke up," Susan whispered, glancing upstairs as if she might catch Becky listening in. "I've never been able to figure it out myself."

"Well, as I said, I really need to talk to your husband and I don't have much time, so if you don't mind?" he asked, politely tipping his head and extending his hand as if asking for hers.

"No, no, go ahead," she answered nodding. "I understand. Business before pleasure. I'm used to that from my many years as an Army wife. You go ahead. You know where his den is. I suspect you've spent enough time in there listening to him lecture you about one thing or another."

Nodding to her again, he walked to the sliding wood door leading into Col. McCreary's personal office. Pausing a moment, Josh knocked sharply twice and waited for Jonathon to answer. It was a longstanding rule in the McCreary family that no one interrupted him while the door was closed.

Jonathon slid the heavy door open. "Ah, Josh. Come on in. I've been expecting you." He wasn't a big man, but was no less imposing. He was older and no longer bore the close cropped hair of his military career. When he found himself losing much of his hair in his later years, he shaved the remainder off and now sported a Van Dyke mustache/beard combination which make him look a more like a grizzled professor than a military man.

As he stood aside, Josh entered without a word. Jonathon slid the heavy door shut, effectively marking their conversation as private—the solid door efficiently deadening any sound emanating from the room. The office was Spartan, filled with metal filing cabinets, ribbons and photographs of comrades in arms in foreign lands on the walls. Jonathon had painstakingly paneled it in oak so it would reflect his previous position, and he considered it a place for important business, although he was hardly involved in anything that pressing since retiring several years ago. When he turned back, Josh offered his hand for a handshake, a custom the Colonel had always insisted on before, but this time the older man surprised Josh by stepping close and wrapping his arm around his shoulder—something he'd never done while he and Becky were dating.

"I assume Susan explained about Becky?" he asked, not elaborating.

"Yeah, it seems she doesn't want anything to do with me," Josh lamented. "She thinks this is some elaborate ploy to win her back."

"It's not, is it?" Jonathon asked, glancing at him to gauge his reaction. But before Josh could respond, he continued. "No, of course it isn't. I hadn't thought you'd try anything like that. You've always been very upfront with me, and while we've had our disagreements, I've always respected how direct you are. Whenever you've thought I was in the wrong you didn't hesitate to call me on it, even when I made it difficult on you. Even more, you always treated my daughter well, despite how she chose to respond."

He paused as he stepped behind his desk, motioning for Josh to take a seat before him as he sank into the office chair and leaned forward, speaking quietly of personal family matters.

"Personally, I've always felt terrible about how things worked out between the two of you. Both Susan and I liked you very much, even though I never showed it. We felt for you, but you understand how we couldn't take your side in this and reach out to you. This was between the two of you, and Becky has to learn to live her life by her own decisions."

"Yes, Sir, I understand the difficult position she put you in," Josh responded, confused by the direction this conversation was taking. "Since she was the one who broke the whole thing off, and especially given how she chose to do it, I just can't understand why she continues to be so resentful towards me." Josh was willing to drop the whole discussion there, but apparently the Colonel wasn't.

"How a person responds speaks louder than the actual words they use," he advised. "The fact you provoke such intense emotions shows that you continue to mean a lot to her. Thus she couldn't take the breakup simply. The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference. If you don't care for someone, you simply don't care. Instead hatred, like jealousy, is a close cousin of love, one which people often court when their first love doesn't pan out."

"Maybe so, but we were friends for much longer than we ever dated. I was willing to let bygones be bygones when she... , when we broke up. She's the one who seems to be harboring the grudge."

"That she does. You should see her mother when she gets a bee in her bonnet. There's nothing you can say to dissuade her, even if she knows she's wrong. That simple fact won't budge her. It's best to address the issue head on."

"It's a little hard to do when she won't speak to me," Josh pointed out, noting how his sweaty palms seemed perfectly dry now that they'd maneuvered the conversation onto a side discussion of Jonathon's daughter.

"No, I'm not saying there are any easy solutions, I'm just trying to explain why she feels as strongly as she does. She needed a clean break, otherwise the pull was too strong, and I'm guessing she was afraid she'd get sucked back into your orbit unless she stayed out of your path."

"Look, Jonathon, I'm sorry if I'm being rude, I appreciate the candor, but I really didn't come here to discuss Becky. I've made my peace with what's happened and I consider it old news."

"Ah, yes," The Colonel said, becoming all business as if he'd somehow flipped a switch. "Becky said you had something 'important' to talk to me about. Was there something I could help you with?"

"Yes, Sir," Josh began, once more feeling ill at ease with what he had to say. "This is a bit unusual and I really can't explain it, but I need some potential contacts. I figured with your extensive background in the Army you could speak to some people for me."

"Uh... , if I remember correctly, you were never very big on the military service before," he responded, sounding nearly as confused by Josh's question as he'd been about his daughter's response to him earlier.

"Actually, I never had a problem with the military itself, just how the civilian command structure has applied it over the years," Josh reminded him, though he didn't think it would help his case.

"Yeah, I remember," the Colonel scoffed. "So what is the infamously anti-government Josh doing calling me, looking for assistance with the military?" he asked, sounding clearly intrigued.

"I've got a bit of a ... situation," Josh began, struggling to find the right words. "It's hard to explain, but I'll give it a try. Imagine a team was lost, out of contact with their superiors, in a foreign land with no resources and in dire straits. As a military man, you'd never abandon a man in need, would you? Well I've got a similar situation. I've got a group of people who need help, and I need to do it without involving the local authorities, so I wanted people familiar with—"

"Now wait a minute, son," the Colonel cautioned, glaring at him. "What have you gone and gotten yourself involved in? Who are these people you're helping that you don't want anyone to know about? Are you trying to hide some Arab insurgents and you're asking me to help you circumvent my own government?"

"Please, it's nothing like that," Josh hurriedly explained, "but it's not something I can freely discuss. After all, if you decide you don't trust me, I'm not about to compromise those I'm trying to protect by revealing their details. I'd have asked you this over the phone, but I didn't want to chance anyone listening in to our conversation and having some stray word kick the conversation upstairs."

"You do realize those procedures only apply to foreign nationals, don't you?" Jonathon asked, looking askance at Josh.

"I'm aware that's the limit of their legitimate use, but I also don't doubt factions within the organization use it for more than its 'intended use'. There may actually be no one in the Government who would misuse it, but I really don't want to take that chance. After all, when you grant hundreds of thousands of private contractors top security access to people's private data with little oversight, there's no telling how seriously they'll take the responsibility."

"Again, if you're that worried about attracting someone's attention, it sounds like you're already feeling guilty. If you don't think this 'mission' is valid, then why would you expect me to put myself out on your behalf?" Jonathon asked, trying to get Josh talking. It was clear Jonathon was reluctant, but he knew Josh was an upstanding guy—even if his mind operated on some weird level the Colonel simply couldn't comprehend. But he wanted to get a better idea of what had the young man so concerned he'd risk his own future.

"It's not guilt, Sir," Josh answered. "It's concern. This is a potentially explosive situation, and rather than risking it becoming a political football and becoming bigger than it really is, I prefer handling it myself as delicately as I can. But this situation is nothing like you're imagining. These people are not a part of any organization the US has any issues with. However, that said, they'd rather remain under the radar. If you decide to put me in contact with anyone, they can come fully armed if they want, and if they think I'm trying to pull anything, they're free to arrest me and anyone with me. I'll go willingly, but I just ask that they hear me out first."

"You're serious, aren't you?" Col. McCreary asked. "You're willing to put yourself at personal risk based on the word of someone you've never met, just to help someone you don't personally know?"

"I never said I didn't know them," Josh pointed out, "but you've hit it on the head. That's exactly what I'm talking about. This is very important, and I need people who'd appreciate the seriousness of the situation, and who'd know what to do in this kind of circumstance."

"The thing to do would be to ask for help, probably by calling the damn police," the Col. replied, scowling across the desk.

"I'm sorry, but it's a bit more complicated than that. Again, I'm not willing to reveal the specific details, but I'm willing to discuss it with whomever you recommend. But time is of the essence. I'm on my way to meet them right now, so you've got time to make arrangements. Ideally it would be someone who's already out of the military, experienced in desert terrain and has some history surviving off the radar in a hostile land."

"How about if I meet them myself first," he asked pointedly. "After all, I'm better equipped to evaluate whether someone is being honest or not."

"Sir, no affront intended, but you're getting on in years and you've got responsibilities, principally those of your daughter and wife. I think it would be better if you stayed out of it so you and your family won't be implicated if anything happens. I need a few people who can hit the ground running, who can adapt to the situations on the ground, and most of all I need someone who knows enough to not use force. We'll have to avoid anyone who's suffered any post-traumatic events. It's possible someone may take shots at us, and I don't want anyone getting over excited and returning fire with the boys in blue if we can avoid it."

"Thanks for that, son, but despite how the media paints us, not everyone in the military suffers from PTSD," the Col. pointed out.

"I understand that, Sir. But I recognize we may be in a compromising position and I want you to be aware of that fact."

"All right," Jonathon conceded with a heavy sigh. "I can tell you're serious about this, even if I have no clue what you're involved in. Against my better judgment, I'm going to take a chance on this and take your request seriously. Despite my doubts about you in the past, and your unfortunate history with my daughter, I've always respected your sincerity and willingness to stand up for what you believe in. Even though you usually piss everyone off with your idealistic notions and fancy talk, you stand by your beliefs. I've observed that in many of the men that I've served with, and I know what an effective force it can be when applied in the proper direction. That said, just be warned that if you're taking me on some wild-goose chase, or getting involved with anything questionable, I'll make sure you NEVER see the light of day again, even if I have to bury you in the woods myself! Understood?"

"Absolutely, Sir. I'd expect no less," Josh answered, meeting Jonathon's gaze without hesitation. He knew he was taking a big chance, but he realized he needed more help than he and his few friends could accomplish. He needed very specific skills he hadn't been trained in, but those skills would come at a cost. Anyone the colonel sent would be conflicted about acting against the interests of their previous employers. It was going to be a very hard sale!

"And we can forget this 'Sir' nonsense. You've never been military and you've never reported to me. I always gave you a hard time because I was afraid you were likely to run off half-cocked and get my daughter into trouble, but for now you can just call me by my name, which is Jonathan."

"Yes, Sir, Jonathan, Sir," Josh teased, hoping he'd see the humor in it, but knowing he was treading some very delicate water.

"Very funny, smart man," Jonathon replied, though he couldn't keep the smile off his face. "I'll make some phone calls. Where are you going to be and where can they reach you?"

"I'll be on the road and unreachable for some time," Josh informed him. "What's more, I'll be disabling my phone just in case you decide to report this conversation. However, I'll be in Clearance Wood in two days' time. If whoever you find can meet me at the Denny's there at approximately five p.m., I'd appreciate it. Otherwise I'll contact you about making other arrangements, but if I don't see anyone there I'll assume you've changed your mind. I hope you don't object, but I'm assuming that if anything goes awry, that you aren't on board with this."