Broken Soldier: A Novel (21 page)

“She’s not here.”

“So call her cell phone. We need to decide on a location.”

Rafa retrieved his cell from the nightstand in the bedroom and came back to the kitchen. Emily was up washing dishes as he dialed his mother.

“Rafael, I wondered when you’d call me,” his mother said in Spanish when she answered.

“Good morning,
Mamá
. I tried to call you through the computer but you weren’t there.”

“I’m a busy woman. Yaya and I are out visiting florists.” She lowered her voice. “I’m still planning to get the flowers through Pedro’s, but Yaya wanted to see what Juan Carlos and Esmerelda could do for us.”

Rafa sighed. “So about that,
Mamá
. I’ve been talking to Emily and--”

“She has finally agreed to Madrid?”

“No,
Mamá
.”

The silence was deafening.

“
Mamá
, are you there?”

Emily looked over from the sink, head cocked.

“I am here,” his mother said. “We are doing this wedding in Madrid,
hijo
. You agreed.”

“I didn’t agree that we would have it in Spain. I agreed that I would talk to Emily about it.”

“Rafael, I was married in Spain. Your Yaya was married in Spain. Our entire family has been married in Spain. It would not be right for you to break that tradition.”

“Not going well?” Emily stage whispered.

Rafa shook his head. “
Mamá
, your whole family is Spanish. I am not.”

“You are speaking Spanish right now,
hijo
.”

He sucked in a deep breath, steadying his nerves. The Army taught that the best way to handle an ambush was to keep moving forward and to push the attackers off-guard.

“Then I’ll speak English,” he said in English. “I’m American, Mom. West Point and the Army are more than enough proof of that.”

“Bah, it means nothing. Spanish blood beats in your veins, Rafael.”

“Emily and I have decided that we are going to have the wedding in Colorado.” He said the words slowly, enunciating each one. “We would love for you and Dad and Yaya to join us here.”

“You can say that now,
hijo
, but we are not done discussing this.”

“Good bye, Mom.”

The phone went dead from her end.

Emily came over and stood behind him, her hands falling to his shoulders and massaging some of the tension away. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“It is not your fault. She has always been a difficult woman.”

“I’m sorry that she causes you pain, I mean.” She bent over, kissing him on the cheek. “Do you think she’d skip it?”

“No. Never. She will complain to me and Dad and half the city of Madrid, but she will not miss it. She is prickly, but she is still my mother.”

“Thank you for standing up to her. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

It wasn’t. It never had been. He’d dealt with his mother for most of his life by being halfway around the world, or by having orders from an authority figure with whom she couldn’t argue. It was strange to have her so prominently involved in his life.

Rafa slid his arms around Emily and pulled her into his lap. “You are the most important person in my life, Em. And you always will be.”

Her lip quivered for an instant, then turned into a smile. 

T
HE gym in Emily’s building held exactly two treadmills and a little weight machine, but that was still two more treadmills than they had in the apartment. And Rafa didn’t feel like jogging outside in the midst of a March snowstorm. Paul ran next to him, sweat soaking through his t-shirt in a wide, gray patch.

“So you didn’t drag me down here because you’re worried about my love handles,” Paul said. “What’s eating you?”

“I am worried about my love handles,” Rafa said, plucking at his shirt. “I’ve gained five pounds since Christmas.”

“You’re getting old, bro. Thirty this year, right?”

“Yes.” Rafa pushed harder, stretching his legs and feeling it burn. “And yes, I have ulterior motives. I’m getting backlash from my mother about wanting to have the wedding in Colorado rather than Spain.” He wasn’t quite gasping, but he was sucking wind between words.

“Well, do you have a date yet?”

“We were thinking Thanksgiving, but Em’s family wants to do a wedding in Denver, and
Mamá
insists that we have it in Madrid.”

“The cathedral?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know, bro. The wedding is about you and Em, right? You gotta do what’s best for the two of you. If you don’t, you and Em are in trouble and not the kind make-up sex can fix.”

Rafa jogged on, feet slapping the treadmill in a steady rhythm. Paul had a point. In the end, it wasn’t really about
Mamá
or Emily’s parents or any of their friends.

“What about you and Christa?” Rafa asked. “Could you do Madrid?”

“Probably. You said November, right?”

“We were planning to make it a couple months after that. Emily thought it would give Christa time to recover.”

“That’s thoughtful of her.”

He said it in a way that made Rafa pause, and it took him a moment to realize that even though he and Emily had discussed having Christa and Paul in the wedding party, he hadn’t actually asked Paul to be his best man yet.

“So...” Rafa said. “Do you have plans around, say, Thanksgiving?”

“Why, no, Mr. Carpenter.” Paul grinned. “Whatever do you have mind?”

Rafa mashed the button to stop the treadmill and turned, facing his friend. “I need someone to stand beside me while I marry the woman I love.” He waited a beat, drawing it out it for Paul. “Do you know anyone that would work?”

“You’re an asshole sometimes, Rafa. I just want you to know that.”

Rafa grinned. “So will you do it?”

“Of course I’ll do it. And wherever you guys decide to have the ceremony, we’ll be there.” Paul cocked his head. “Except Saudi Arabia. If you decide on Riyadh for some reason, I’m staying home.”

“Why’s that?”

“No booze, man. If I see my best friend marry my wife’s best friend, I’m going to need some drinks afterward to celebrate.”

“Alright, deal. I will let you know first thing when we have a location, and I promise it won’t be anywhere that bans alcohol.”

“So I have question for you. A little
quid pro quo
, if you will.”

“Go on.”

“We’re buying a house.”

“Congrats, man. Where is it?”

“Here in Boulder. We’ve got one in mind, but it could use some work. You mind helping me a few weekends this spring? I want to get it into shape before the baby gets here.”

“Just tell me when and where. You want me to get Em to come help, too?”

“Actually, I was thinking maybe Em and Christa could go shop for baby stuff or something. Get her out of the house. She gets real emotional sometimes. Breaks down crying for no reason.”

“Everything all right?”

Paul cracked a wry smile. “Her OB-GYN says it’s normal. All those hormones kicking in full force. I think she’s training me for when the baby comes.” His smile faltered. “It scares the hell out of me.”

Rafa rubbed his knee, not sure what to say that. “Well, I’m happy to help however I can. I’m sure Em would be, too.”

“Thanks.”

Rafa watched his friend work. His mind wandered to the wedding, and the things he and Emily still had to do.

“You alright there?” Paul asked. “You just got awful quiet.”

“Just thinking. Weddings are hard.”

“If you think it’s hard now, wait until you’re married. That first year isn’t so bad, but after that, man, it’s work.”

“And you are adding a child to that?”

“Well, yeah. Em’s what, 27 or so, right? She’ll be wanting a baby before you know it.”

Rafa squeezed his temples. Paul might have a point, but he could deal with that later. He had to get through the nuptials first.

#

T
HE trees were just like Rafa remembered. Tall, majestic and omnipresent. Fort Carson never seemed to change in that regard. Rafa climbed into the passenger seat of a HMMV, the corporal assigned as his driver climbed in beside him.

“Captain Carpenter, good to see you again,” the corporal said.

Rafa didn’t recognize him, so he couldn’t have been one of his soldiers. “I don’t think I know your name, Corporal.”

“I’m new to the 10th, Captain, but we’ve been studying your last... uh... engagement.”

Rafa tucked his left hand over his right sleeve. So that’s what they were calling the fiasco that had cost him two of his best friends, his leg and his hand?

“How long have you been out of the service?” the corporal asked. “I thought you were wounded last year.”

“A couple months.” He seemed like a nice kid, but he should know better than to pry. Rafa looked out the passenger window, trying to send the message without hurting the kid’s feelings.

“How long were you in?”

“A while.”

The corporal didn’t have much more to add after that, and it actually made Rafa feel a little guilty. The kid couldn’t have been much past 20. He had the short hair of a fresh inductee, though the Special Forces tab on his shoulder showed he wasn’t just an average soldier.

The guards at the base gate checked both of their IDs and let them continue on with a wave. The HMMV bumped along, but didn’t slow as they passed the turn for the Special Warfare Centre.

“We not going to the ops center?” Rafa asked.

“Negative. Colonel Rogers told me to take you straight to him. He’s bivouacked up in the mountains.”

Civilians didn’t normally leave the main portion of the base, so Rafa was taking it as a compliment that the colonel was having him brought out to where the real business was done.

“Any particular reason for that?” Rafa asked.

“They don’t tell me the ‘why,’ sir, just the ‘where.’”

“Understood, Corporal.” Rafa had learned that lesson himself, a dozen times over. The Army liked to play a game called “hurry up and wait,” sending folks rushing all over the globe, and then having them sit around until the mission actually started, days or weeks later. It wasn’t something he had missed.

They drove along for another fifteen minutes, oaks and pines blurring past on the side of a two lane concrete road. Once in a while there were deuce and halves or HMMVs parked on the side of the road at the switchbacks.

It brought back memories, and a fierce, bone deep ache. How many hundreds of miles had he covered through those woods? How many months of training? Fort Carson had been home for a while, one of his early stops once he’d left West Point, and it had been one of the places that had shaped him from a boy into a man.

It was strange for those memories to mix with the more recent events in his life. The snow and the pines were his new life, too. Skiing and hiking with Emily. Walking through a blizzard hand in hand.

“This is us,” the corporal said, shaking Rafa from his reverie. They turned off onto a rutted lane. The sound of helicopters penetrated the HMMV, giving credence to the corporal’s statement. They continued on for a couple more minutes before turning into a high meadow.

A pair of Blackhawks idled in a clearing on the edge of a cliff, rotors turning. A cloud of snow swirled around them, starkly white against the blue sky. A deuce and a half, tailgate thrown open, sat to one side. Soldiers scurried between vehicles carrying gear.

The corporal parked short of the helicopters. “Colonel’s right there,” the corp said.

“Roger that.” Rafa hopped out. The air had a chill to it, colder than he was accustomed to in Boulder. They were probably five thousand feet higher up than usual. Half a dozen soldiers stood around the colonel, all experienced operators judging by their ages and their unit insignias.

One of the men turned as Rafa approached. Rafa recognized him as one of the platoon leaders from his old unit. “Carpenter! What brings you out to this neck of the woods?”

“Beats the hell out of me.” Rafa nodded toward Colonel Rogers. “I was hoping you folks could tell me, actually.”

“Captain Carpenter, happy to see you again,” Colonel Rogers said. “Leg feeling alright?”

“As good as it’s going to get, Colonel.”

“Carry on, gentlemen,” the colonel said to the other soldiers. He motioned for Rafa to walk with him. One of the helicopters spun up, sending a blizzard through the clearing. Rafa ducked his head, waiting for the machine to clear the ledge and swing out over the valley below.

“Carpenter, you’re probably wondering why I asked you to come out here.” The colonel sighed. “It’s because we need you. With the President trying to get us out of Afghanistan completely by the end of next year, we’re in a tough spot. So is the Afghan government.”

“The media doesn’t make the present government over there sound like it’s very effective.”

“It’s precisely as effective as it has been for the last five years.”

So zero, Rafa thought. And now he’s going to ask me to go back into the quagmire.

“There’s a new
shura
coming up at the end of the summer. A big one. We’re bringing in folks from all the provincial governments, folks from the State Department, some Pakistani diplomats, the Taliban, and... and some representatives from al’Qaeda.”

Rafa blinked, but kept himself calm and focused. “Where do I fit into this?”

“The Afghans trust you. It may not seem like it considering that number they worked on you last year, but when we were doing the investigation afterward we kept hearing your name. There are a lot of folks in those hills that don’t want to talk to anyone else.”

“That doesn’t quite answer the question, sir. Do you want me as part of a meeting somewhere or do you want me on the ground getting people to the meeting?”

“Both, if you can manage it. When I talked to Hal Peterson he mentioned that you two outran a company of his cadets and that if he hadn’t known better, he’d have never suspected you were wounded. I’d like to put you with a team of my guys and State Department suits to talk to these village leaders and get them on the same page with us. And then I’d like you to be on hand when we actually have the
shura
in Kabul.”

“I can’t answer you now, colonel. I hope you understand. I am getting married soon and I need to figure out what something like this means for my fiancé.”