Between Here and the Horizon(86)

“Ma’am? Ma’am. Stop. Captain Fletcher is required to come with us. If you don’t calm down, we’ll be forced to call for local law enforcement to come and detain you until we are off the property.”

“Good. Call the police. You can’t just take him like this. He has the right to due process, just like anyone else.”

“He does not, ma’am. He’s still governed by the United States Army, regardless of whether or not he’s on active duty. Fletcher’s committed a crime. He’s under investigation. That’s all there is to it.”

“But he has the right to a lawyer. He has the right to know why he’s being—”

“Ophelia.” Sully had stopped struggling and was looking at me. “Please. It’s okay. Just go and be with your mom, okay? I’ll come find you as soon as I can, I swear.”

And so that was it. They led Sully away, and he was gone.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE





Afghanistan





2009





Sully





“We can’t do this, Sully. There’s no way we can pull it off. We’re mad to have even considered it.”

I straightened Ronan’s tie and cuffed him on the shoulder, trying not to let my nerves show. What we were planning on doing was madness indeed, but there was nothing else for it. Ronan couldn’t take another day here in-country, let alone another month. Or three. Or five. Or twelve.

Whitlock hadn’t called me into his office to tell me my deployment was being extended. In a strange twist of fate, he had called me into his office to thank me for my fine service, and to tell me I was going home. Not only was my deployment over, but my contract with the army, too. I was out. I was done. I was finished. Unless I wanted to re-enlist, of course. I’d stared at Whitlock at first, too stunned to speak or even blink. But then the cogs had started turning.

“No, sir. I think I’ve had my fill of Afghanistan. For this lifetime, anyway,” I’d told him. “It’s high time I went back to New York. I’ve made my girlfriend wait six years for me already. I should probably marry her before she grows bored and gets hitched to some barista or something.”

Whitlock had laughed, but I could see it in his eyes—he thought I was less of a man for leaving. “Well that’s settled then. Lucky for me I get to keep hold of at least one of the Fletcher boys for a little longer.”

As soon as I’d left Whitlock’s office, I’d gone to find Ronan, to explain my plan, and that had been it. Ronan had argued at first, told me I couldn’t make such a ridiculous sacrifice for him, that I was mad, but in the end he’d given up. He couldn’t stay. I could. That was all there was to it.

“If we get caught...” Ronan fidgeted, rubbing his hands over his face.

“We’re not going to get caught, *. We’ve been screwing with people our entire lives and no one’s ever been able to tell the difference between us. Why would they now? I know your men. We’ve gone through every single aspect of your past missions. I’m not going to trip up and make a mistake here. It’s going to be fine.”

“And what am I going to do when I get back to the States? I’m just gonna move in with your girlfriend and pretend to the world like I’m happy and in love? Magda’s going to hate me for this. Living with her, pretending to be you? That’s not just going to affect me. It’s going to affect her, too.”

He was right on that count. Magda and Ronan had never been all that close. Ronan had constantly told me she wasn’t right for me, while on the other hand Mags had always said Ronan was a liar and couldn’t be trusted. Now, we were all going to be liars. I’d explained to Magda what was going to happen as best I could without directly saying the words, and after a while she’d managed to decipher what I was talking about. She’d been mad. Boy, had she been mad. But she’d agreed to play along for my sake.

“Just make sure she’s not too worried,” I said, handing Ronan his military bag. The one with CPTN. S. FLETCHER stenciled onto its side. “And remind her she can’t talk about this to anyone. Not her parents. Not Rose. She can’t even write about it in that diary of hers, okay? Hey? Are you listening to me?” I took Ronan’s face in my hands, forcing him to meet my eye. “This is so f*cking important, man. Tell me you can handle this.”

“Running home, hiding from my responsibilities? Oh sure. I can handle that just fine,” he said bitterly. “I can’t believe you’re doing this for me. I’m never going to be able to forgive myself for this.”

I shook my head, sighing. “There’s nothing to forgive. You’d do this for me if I needed it. I have your back. I always will. Now go, before you miss your damn flight out of this hellhole. And make sure you give my girl a kiss for me, brother.”

Behind me, a private I didn’t know hurried through the tent flap, saluting us both, eyes frantically flickering between the two of us before landing on me.

“Captain Fletcher, sir. You’re needed in Colonel Whitlock’s office immediately. He needs you out on night patrol with B company.” The private hadn’t batted an eyelid. He’d found the letter R on my breast pocket—Cptn. R. Fletcher—and he’d believed I was Ronan. I smiled at my brother, and then slapped him on the shoulder: see?