The Minus Faction, Episode One: Breakout (8 page)

Gabriel kept gripping the gun tight and then letting loose.

Regent could see the muscles in Gabe's arm tense and relax. "I don't have any answers, Corporal. I know I pretend like I do sometimes. I want folks to feel like they can make it. But I'm just going a day at a time."

Gabriel wiped his eyes on his short sleeves. He sniffed. "There's nothing left for me, Cap."

"Yes, there is."

"No." Gabriel shook his head. "There isn't. I fucked it all up."

"Can I see?" John held out his hand—his shriveled, shaking left hand—towards the folded paper. It was a gesture.

Gabe looked at the mangled, atrophied arm. It was hard to say no. Regent reached and Gabe let go of his most valuable possession.

John unfolded it: a black and white print out, a computer-generated render of Gabe's daughter in the womb. It wasn't very clear, but you could definitely see tiny hands pressed to a face as if in prayer.

Regent set it flat on the counter facing the corporal. "Then what's this?"

"I want to be there for her, Cap." Gabriel ran the barrel of the gun over his forehead as if scratching an itch. He was sweating. "I really do."

John waited for a moment. "But?"

Gabe shrugged. "Maybe this is the best way."

The captain nodded. He had been right. A wounded vet with PTSD shoots himself under the army's watch, odds are they pay out. Now Esme and the baby have some money and—in Gabriel's head anyway—no dead weight holding them down. John knew the feeling. He nodded to the picture. "This what she wants? Or what you want?"

"I'm just gonna fuck it up. Before, you know, the baby was just this thing that was gonna happen. But now," Gabriel didn't take his eyes off the print out, "there's a picture and everything. Here she is. For real. Mi frijolita."

Regent didn't have kids, but he saw what his sister went through, especially after her husband left. John watched Gabriel's mouth turn into a frown.
Here it comes,
he thought.

"Shit, I just love her so much." The corporal slurped his words between tears and rasping breaths. His lips quivered. He put his hand on the paper. He ran a finger along the blurred trace of a face. "Isn't that crazy? She hasn't even been born yet . . . and I just love her
so much
." His eyes clenched in tears. He began to sob. "I want her to have everything. The best. And that ain't me, Cap." He sniffed. "You know, if Esme has some money, she can get outta here, ya know, meet someone. People get remarried all the time. She can find our girl a good dad."

John watched tears fall, one after the next. He could feel his own tears well. He had plenty of reasons to cry. But this wasn't about him. He spoke softly. "She's already got a good dad."

"No." Gabriel got angry. "I can't do shit."

"That's not tru--"

"Everything I do is shit!"

"Corp--"

"Naw, man! Naw. I fucked it all up. Everything. Me and Esme had it good. I fucked that up. I fuck
everything
up. My unit. My fucking leg. Everything. I killed all those guys 'cuz I'm a moron. They're dead, Cap."

"That's your dad talking."

"Maybe he's right! You ever think about that? I mean, look at what I do. I keep trying real hard but only I make everything
worse
. He saw it. He was right about me."

Gabe had told John about his father and what the man had done and said. It had only stopped when Gabe's dad abandoned his family shortly before Gabe's fifteenth birthday, right about the time the boy was getting big enough to fight back.

John listened as his friend parroted an asshole. He could hear his stepmom echoed in the words.

Gabriel slurped again. "Esme chose me, you know, and--and I love her for it, but I fucked that up too, and now she's gone. But this little girl doesn't know."

"Stop."

"She can't choose for herself. She don't know what a loser her da--"

"STOP!" John yelled. He was still a big man with big lungs and a strong heart. The noise bounced off the walls. There was silence across the floor.

Gabriel rubbed the gun barrel back and forth across his forehead. The metal was wet from sweat and tears. It shook.

"Just . . . Stop." John leaned in. He could see the safety was off. The gun was live.

Gabriel shook his head. He wrapped a finger around the trigger. "Just go," he breathed.

Captain Regent picked up the paper and held it in front of Gabe's eyes. "You think there's any other man on this earth who's ever gonna care so much for this little girl that he'd give his own
life
for her? Huh?"

Gabriel Gonzales took slow, heaving breaths. He closed his eyes. He couldn't look. He hadn't thought about that. He ran the barrel back and forth across his lips then up to the tip of his nose and down.

He hadn't thought about that.

"You know, wherever you think it comes from—God, Allah, the universe, whatever—you've been given a chance, man. Same as the rest of us. A chance to
count
. Most folks don't take that chance because most folks don't take chances." Regent tapped on the picture with twisted, shriveled fingers. "You gotta decide what a chance to count looks like. Something in a movie? Or maybe something like this right here."

Gabe started to cry again, then stopped, then started a third time. "Why you doin' this, Cap? Huh?" He dribbled and sucked his words. "Why you care so much about some fuck-up enlisted?"

Regent nodded. It was a fair question. "Set the gun down and I'll tell you."

Gabriel looked at his weapon. He took a breath and set it on the counter. He rested his hand on top.

At least it was a step in the right direction. "You know," John exhaled. This would be tough. He didn't like talking about his friend Danny. Not after what had happened. "I was in Bangladesh once, long time ago. We were chasing some guys. Real bad fuckers. Kept their women in a compound like slaves. Not that our guys cared. We were just after some rogue bioweapon. They wouldn't tell us what it was, just that no matter what, the case had to stay sealed or goodbye civilization.

"Somehow I get on the rooftops of this shantytown kinda thing, and I'm chasing this guy. Fucker was
fast
. I thought I read him good, squirrely scientist type, feels he's too smart to play by the rules, feels the world owes him 'cuz he's so awesome. Only now he's terrified. To your enemy, you're always the bad guy, right? And here we were coming for him.

"I knew he had a pistol, but for guys like that, it's a safety blanket more than anything. I knew weapons. I'd been trained. I had experience. I knew you can't be afraid. So I kept after him, jumping across gaps, making sure not to look down, keeping my eye on the target. Only I couldn't because there was all this laundry."

"Laundry?"

John chuckled and nodded. "Hanging out on the roof to dry, right? They don't have room for dryers and shit there. All these different colors, sequins and stuff on it. Millions of lives on the line and I'm fighting laundry for a clear shot.

"Anyway, I bust through some robes or sheets or something and POW. Turns out the bastard had run out of roof. I had read him good. He was just like I thought—as long as he could keep running. But once he faced that dead end, there was a moment of desperation.

"People do some crazy shit when they're desperate." He looked Gabe in the eye. "Stuff that don't make no damn sense. It's panic.

"I thought I was done. Game over. But my friend Danny had come up on flank. He'd got up to the roof just in time to give me a little shove. Saved my life.

"Without that little shove, I woulda taken one right in the face." John tapped his cheek with two fingers. "Boom. DOA. Something like that happens, you get to thinking a lot about life, death, and all that, and I realized . . . We all like to think we are who we are because of the shit we've done or the choices we've made or how hard we've worked. But that ain't even half of it. Luck, environment, all that, comes
first
. Every single thing we do is built on top of what the world gave us. Some folks get lucky. Others . . ." John shrugged.

"Your dad. My stepmom. That's the kind of shit they don't teach you how to deal with as a kid. We all do the best we can. But I got lucky with my Moms. And my Granddad. I look at you and I see what woulda happened if they hadn't given me that little shove, ya know? That's how I started out. I got lucky. That's all. That's the only difference between you and me. I got a little shove in the right direction."
And that's how it'll end,
John thought,
by giving one back
.

"Besides," he tapped his friend's artificial knee, "last time I checked, you and me were still soldiers in the same army. It's just a different war here. That's all."

Corporal Gonzales glanced at the burnt and broken man in the wheelchair. He saw the captain's arm twitch, and his upper lip. The man was in pain. All the time. Gabriel turned away in shame.

John saw it. "The damned cool thing is, you don't gotta do any of this alone."

"Esme--"

"She told me." John stopped him before he could get started. "She didn't leave. All she said was that you fucked up and you gotta earn your way back. Just like pulling latrine, right?"

Gabe looked at the floor. He smiled and nodded.

"I'm sure it seems like a lot right now, but the doc, ya know, she cares, man. She really does. You're the one who's gotta do the hard work, but she'll help. You can trust her. And I don't say that about too many folks."

Gabriel Gonzales ran his fingers over the polished stock of his weapon. He saw his own dark and twisted reflection.

"Time to put that away."

The corporal stared at the gun. "Yes, sir." He said it instinctively, but his mind was elsewhere and his hand didn't move.

Thousand-yard stare,
John thought.
Gotta bring him back. Give him an order. A mission.
"You're gonna do something for me."

"Yes, sir." Still Gabe didn't look up.

"No matter what happens, no matter how tough it gets, you're gonna stay alive long enough to give this back. One of these days, you're gonna meet a guy, someone like you. Maybe it's the same kind of thing. Maybe it's different. But he's gonna need some help. You understand?"

Gabriel looked John in the eye.

That did it.

"Yes, sir." He nodded.

"He's not gonna be perfect. Maybe he's got a temper or it's alcohol or just really bad B.O."

Both men smiled.

"Whatever. You wait around for someone perfect to help, you're never gonna give back to anyone in your whole damn life. Right?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're gonna do for that guy what I did for you. And you're gonna make him promise to pass it on, just like this. Got it?"

Gabe nodded again.

"Promise. On your honor."

"Yes, sir." Gabe sniffed and cleared his throat. He was calm. His head kept bobbing in tiny nods. "I promise. I won't ever forget this. Not me or Esme."

"All right." Regent sat back in his chair. He realized his heart was racing. He looked at the gun, then the picture. "You didn't tell me if babygurl has a name."

"Serenidad."

"That's beautiful, man. Beautiful." John lifted his right hand and held out an open palm.

Gabriel Gonzales lifted his sidearm, flipped the safety, cleared the chamber, removed the clip, and put the weapon in the captain's hand.

John held it in his lap. "Corporal Gonzales."

"Sir." Gabe put the picture of his unborn daughter in his shirt pocket.

"Dr. Zabora is your new commanding officer."

"Yes, sir." The stout man stood on two legs, one real and one artificial, the result of a surreal trauma.

"Report for duty."

Gabriel locked his eyes to the horizon and gave a stiff salute. "Yes, sir."

T Minus: 050 Days 13 Hours 12 Minutes 38 Seconds

John watched from the door of Exam Room 3 as the lieutenant's men took Gabriel Gonzales into custody. There'd be repercussions, but then John figured some time to think wouldn't be bad for the man. And with the doc's help, he'd get what he needed.

Amarta said a few words to the corporal before the MPs took him away. She watched him disappear behind the elevator doors, then turned to look down the hall at the man in the wheelchair.

It was only a moment before the lieutenant stepped over and asked her to join a debriefing with key members of the staff. Several doctors and hospital administrators had appeared after the "all clear" came over the intercom. They had gawked from the nook by the stairwell as the guards handcuffed Gabe. Now they were discussing where to meet and who should be present. They were all so serious.

Dr. Zabora wanted none of it. She waved off the lieutenant and walked down the hall without a word. The young officer scowled at her and turned back to the cooperative staff.