Half Life

[Robbie C.]

Just a little thing I whipped up 'inspired' by current images.

 

“Not again.” Sonny Crockett found the Black Jack bottle without looking and poured another drink. Tranquility shifted a bit as echoes of the tide slid through the marina, but he didn’t notice. His entire being was focused on the small TV and the images from a world away. It was supposed to be new, but he’d seen it before. Lived it before.

The ticker on the bottom of the screen said Kabul, but all he could see was Saigon. The same frightened faces. The same panicked mothers holding their children in the air, begging for someone to help them. And the same damned broken promises by the United States government.

“Sucks. Don’t know why anyone allies with us anymore.” Steve Blair forced a dry chuckle as he came out of the galley with two cold beers.

“Yeah. You gotta be a damned fool to believe anything we say.” Sonny nodded his thanks as he took the cold Coors bottle. “You never told me why you were in town.”

“No.” Blair sat down in one of the leather club chairs. “Uncle Dave asked me to check in on you. He’d come down himself, but Debbie’s in the hospital again…”

“Yeah.” Sonny ran his hand through thick hair gone silver a few years back. It had been almost six months since he’d buried Jenny next to Caitlin and Will, but some nights it felt like yesterday.

“Cancer’s a bitch. Lost my wife to it, too. A year ago last Tuesday.”

“I didn’t know, man. I’m…sorry.”

“No reason you’d know.” The younger man’s voice was matter-of-fact, and there was a distance in his brown eyes that reminded Sonny very much of Castillo on a bad day. “We never got down here, and in our line of work…”

Sonny nodded, taking a deep drink and feeling the cool beer slide over his tongue. He knew Blair was in the intelligence game…some super-secret agency that didn’t exist and had never existed. But that was all. He’d never wanted to dig deeper. But he hadn’t known his wife was in the life, too. “Like I can talk. Hell, Jenny and I never made it out to see Dave or Randy.” He raised the bottle. “Damn shame what happened to him.”

“Yeah.” Blair looked back at the TV. “Can you believe this?”

“Not the first time I’ve seen this rodeo.” Sonny closed his eyes, trying to fight off the memories flicking in his mind like a bad movie. “I was part of Frequent Wind. You know…”

“The evacuation of Saigon.” Blair shrugged. “Don’t look surprised. My degree was in history.”

“Now that was a shit show. Man, all those people. We were shovin’ Hueys off the decks of carriers so we’d have room for them all. The worst was the kids. You know, most of them didn’t cry. They’d just look at you with these big eyes.”

Blair nodded. “The worst thing to me is we know what’s gonna happen to those people. And no one seems to care.”

“You ever…you know…serve over there?”

“No. Some of my people did, but that was before they came to work for us. We didn’t mix with that stuff much. The paramilitary thing, at least.”

Sonny finished his beer and reached for the remote. “It’s bad enough to see it. I don’t need some chump with a good haircut trying to tell me this isn’t like Vietnam. The hell it isn’t. I was there, and it’s exactly like Vietnam. Right down to the kids.”

“You know, I thought you’d sell the boat.”

Sonny chuckled. “Changin’ the subject? Yeah, I gotta say I thought about it. But I can’t do it. Jenny and I made a life here, and some nights it’s like she’s still here, you know?”

“Yeah. I feel the same way. Sandi and I bought some property back home. Turned out later the woman who’d owned it was related to Randy. Anyhow, once we settled in…” The younger man stared at the TV without seeing it. “Like you said…it’s like she’s still there. She loved that place. She’s even buried there.”

Sonny nodded, not quite trusting his own voice. Then he pushed himself to his feet and went to get two more beers.

When he got back Blair was standing and looking out one of the narrow portholes. “How’s Rico and the rest? Dave will want to know.”

“Rico and Mindy are good. Raphael’s running Caitlin’s House now, him and Ginny. That’s Gina and Stan’s youngest daughter. Castillo and Trudy are still in that Japanese house of his.” He shrugged. “Not sure how any of them are doing, honestly. I…I haven’t been out much since Jenny.”

“Neither have I. It all came so damned fast. Which cancer did Jenny have?”

“Brain. One minute she was fine and the next they had her plugged into more machines than you can imagine.” Sonny shook his head, fighting back a sob. “So damned fast…”

“Sandi’s was breast cancer. Aggressive breast cancer.”

“It’s funny, ain’t it? We spend our careers around death. You’d think we’d be ready.”

“I thought about that, too. But this is different. It’s slow…draining them out slow motion. We always saw death as something fast. Not expected, but fast.”

“There’s something to that.” Sonny looked back at the TV, expecting to see the South Vietnamese flag instead of the Afghan one. “That and it ain’t personal. Not really. But this…”

“Is as personal as it can get. I think that’s why Dave was worried.”

“You know, he’d make someone a good mother.” Sonny forced a chuckle. “Never thought about our kind of death not being personal. Tex…my old counselor…used to talk about that, but I always shied away. He died not too long ago, too. Cancer brought on by Agent Orange exposure. He was a scout gunner and point man down around Saigon and they used that crap by the ton down there.”

“He ever have you talk about your first kill? That kind of thing?”

“Yeah.” Crockett drew the word out as long as he could. “Yeah, he did. Sounds like you know the drill.”

“My first employer went through a phase where they made us go through therapy. ‘Case Officer-Centric Debriefing’ I think they called it. Crap focus group name for being grilled by some asshole who’s never been in the field.”

“Couldn’t say that about Tex. He did three tours, I think. Tough as they come.” Sonny let his memories flick back, past the carrier and Stone’s obnoxious whining. “We were doing a convoy escort out of Da Nang. Pretty routine drill for us. Stretch of highway we were on the convoy couldn’t do over twenty miles an hour, so my partner and I are damned near doing rings around the thing in our gun jeep when the NVA springs their ambush.

“So I’m on the ’60 in the back, putting out fire best I can while Robbie keeps us moving so we’re not an easy target. Usually I drove, but for some reason we’d changed it up that day. I can hear the rounds coming it, but it didn’t seem real, you know? Just like bees buzzing by or something. We’re coming back down the convoy line when this gook pops up from one of the drainage ditches in close to the road. He must have been waiting there all night. I don’t know. So I lower the ’60 and let him have about five rounds.” Sonny paused, rubbing his face with his hand. “He went down like one of those range targets. There was so much dust I couldn’t even really see the blood.”

Blair nodded. “You ever see the body?”

“No. We had to push through the ambush and it was a reaction force that swept back through and did the body count thing. One of ‘em told me they found the guy right where I said he’d be. Said my burst pretty much cut the guy in half.” Sonny shook his head. “But I never saw it.” He looked at the younger man, seeing the clouds in his eyes. “Bet yours was different.”

“Most of mine were. But yeah, the first one was different. It was in some Turkish village. I was fresh out of training and running cover for a more experienced case officer. Some kind of meeting with an informant in a right-wing Turkish group. Never really knew the details…it wasn’t something I needed to know. Just cover the guy’s back and make sure there were no surprises.”

“Let me guess…there was a surprise.”

Blair’s laugh was a short bark, cut off as he took a drink of beer. “Yeah. They were meeting in a coffee shop. The only one in the village, I think. Anyhow, I’m out near the square when this guy gets out of a beat-up old Renault. He goes around to the passenger side and hauls out a shotgun. I think it was a pump of some kind. Then he starts for the coffee shop.”

Sonny nodded. Sure as hell isn’t the same thing as returning fire in an ambush. “You have any way of warning the other guy?”

“No. We weren’t that high-tech back then. All I had was my Walther P-38. Not a fancy pistol, but it was deniable as all get out and I was pretty accurate with it. Had it under my jacket in a shoulder rig.” Blair paused, and Sonny could see the memories playing out behind his eyes. “Still, I was young and dumb. Called out to him before I shot. Bastard had a shell in the chamber and almost got me. It took three to put him down.”

Sonny nodded. “Yeah. Too many Westerns for me as a kid. I always wanted to give them the first move. At least until Nam.”

Blair nodded, jerking his head toward the screen. “Same thing we’re doing now, right? Giving them the first move.”

“And the last. I saw enough fear on that carrier flight deck to last me a lifetime, and the NVA weren’t near as bad as those Taliban bastards.” He sighed. “It’s bad enough the first time, but when you see it happening again…same damned mistakes all over again…”

Blair raised his bottle. “To the politicians. Fuck ‘em all!”

“Fuck ‘em all,” Sonny echoed, raising his own bottle. “In a way I’m glad Jenny can’t see this. It’s the kind of thing that would eat her up, you know?”

“Sandi was an analyst.” Blair’s voice dropped and his eyes grew distant. “She’d explain the whole thing in some big geopolitical sense and then say it still sucked. She was great in the field, but her real gift was analysis.”

“I’m guessing she…”

“She got to finish her career as the Deputy Chief of Intel with my old outfit. Would have made the top spot if the cancer…”

“Yeah. Same thing happened to Jenny. She was in the middle of planning another expansion when we got the diagnosis. She tried to push through, but it just wasn’t in the cards. Angie and Gina finished it for her. They’re naming the wing after her, actually.” He looked back at the TV and snarled. “Someone just shut that old man up. He’s making an ass out of himself.”

Blair reached for the remote and the cabin plunged into deeper gloom. “Easiest way to shut them up.”

“Yeah.” Sonny sat for a moment, still seeing the images in front of his eyes. Big C-17s turning into thrashing Hueys and back again as the past and present merged. The same damned pain. Always the same damned, wasted pain. We put those people through the wringer, said we had their backs, and then hung them out to dry.

“You sure you’re good?”

“No, but I’m as good as I’m gonna get. Maybe not what you want to hear…”

“But sometimes that’s all we get.” Blair set down his empty bottle and got to his feet. “Maybe we should go see Castillo.”

“Yeah. I bet this hurts him more than me.” Sonny shook his head, angry at himself for not thinking of it sooner. “He worked with Hmong in Laos for years, and Cubans before that. Maybe after, too. I bet this brings back a whole load of memories for him.” He drained his own bottle. “I’ll call a cab.”

“No, I’ll do that. You call him first. Let him know we’re coming.”

Trudy answered on the second ring. “Sonny. I’m glad you called. Martin…he’s…”

“Yeah. I get it, darlin’. So am I.” He paused. “Steve Blair’s in town and he thought we should drop by.”

The relief in her voice was almost a physical thing touching him through the phone. “I’d like that, Sonny. And so would he. Steve and I can talk while you two…”

“Steve’s calling a cab now. We’ll be out as soon as we can.” He hung up then looked over at the younger man with the old man’s eyes. “You called that one. Trudy’s a mess, and that means he’s not good.”

“Trudy and I can talk jazz while you and Marty talk Nam and Laos and whatever else needs saying.” Blair turned away. “It’s what warriors do for each other.”

 

Sonny found Martin Castillo on the Japanese-style house’s deck, looking out toward the ocean. The black hair was shot through with silver now, tousled by a rising onshore breeze. The way he was standing he could have been carved from light teak. When he spoke his voice was low. “Trudy said you were coming.”

“Yeah.” Sonny walked closer, a bottle of beer in each hand. After all these years he still wasn’t sure how to approach Castillo, especially in times like these. “Brought a cold one out for you.”

“Thank you.” He took the beer without quite moving, still focused on the water.

“Steve Blair came out with me. Turns out his wife died a bit before Jenny. Dave sent him back to check on me.”

“The Blairs are a close group. Smaller now that Randy is gone.” There was a pause. “I didn’t know Steve was married.”

“I didn’t, either.” Sonny let the cold beer slide over his tongue. “You seen any TV the last few days?”

“How could I not?” The voice was sharp now. Hard. For the first time Sonny noticed Castillo was wearing his old fatigue shirt with the sleeves cut off. That ain’t a good sign. “It is so…familiar.”

“Took me right back to the carrier flight deck. Frequent Wind.” Sonny forced a chuckle, more for Castillo’s benefit than his own. “At least Stone wasn’t whining in my ear.”

“By that time I was in Thailand. But Laos…”

“You worked with the little people, right? Me, I never really did. Not even on my second tour. Strictly security and some escort duty.” He took another drink. “That must have been hard. Not working with ‘em, but seeing what happened after.”

“Huong was part of my time. My Hmong team leader. He died in Menton’s ambush, but he had two brothers. One of them managed to get to Montana with Vang Pao. The other was killed by Pathet Lao on the runway. He was running for one of the Air America helicopters with his family.”

“I’m sorry, Marty.”

“What was worse is I heard later they might have made it if the pilot hadn’t been in such a hurry to take off. I can’t blame him, though. They’d already lost so many…”

“Yeah. We heard those stories, too. I had a couple of buddies who were on the ground in Saigon. Man, the things they saw…I was glad I was mostly at the Embassy or on the carrier. And now some bastard goes and hits rewind and we get to see it all over again.”

Castillo jerked his head toward the house. “They don’t understand.”

“Maybe not. But they want to. Jenny…man, I miss her now more than ever. She always tried to understand. Even if it was just listening to me bitch.” Sonny forced another grin. “And you know I do a lot of bitching.”

“Yes.” Castillo’s face didn’t change. “I thought this was behind me.”

“So did I. Until I saw those pictures. They’re…”

“Too close.” There was another pause. “You know, I didn’t even notice when we pulled out of Iraq. It was orderly…slow. Not this mess.”

“Yeah. If this was a plan I’d like to find the bastard who made it and put one right between his eyes. Anyone who’d plan something like that intentionally has no business walking around.”

“Yes.” Castillo went quiet again, still looking out over the water. “It never ends.”

Sonny nodded, knowing it wasn’t a question. “No, I guess not.” He reached out and touched Castillo’s arm with the tips of his fingers. “Let’s go in before they think we threw ourselves into the ocean and call the Coast Guard.”

“All they needed to do was admit they’d made a mistake. Miscalculated. Instead they try to play it off as a plan.”

“Yeah. But you know as well as I do those spineless monkeys never admit they made a mistake.” Sonny was running out of words. He really hadn’t expected this to hit Castillo as hard as it had, and with his own grief he was losing his way. “Come on, man. There’s people in there who care. Let’s go let ‘em care.”

Castillo turned and started for the house. Then he stopped. “Thank you.”

“No, Marty. Thank you. Now let’s go have a few beers and shout fuck the politicians a few times.” Sonny stood for just a moment longer, hearing echoes of far too many things in the waves. Jenny, Caitlin, David Connor, Eddie, Larry Zito, and Evan. There were more, many more, but those were the ones who echoed the most. And just before he went inside he was sure he heard the thump of heavy rotors in the thick, humid air…almost but not quite muffling the screams of those left behind. He’d never forget them, even though too many others had.

[vicegirl85]

"Liked", "enjoyed", etc. are nowhere close--any words I could come up with would be trite and not express the right emotion for what I felt reading this.  But it was really good.  

[Robbie C.]

Glad you enjoyed it. The whole "evacuation" has been pretty traumatic for many vets I know, and this seemed like a good way to express some of that through the eyes of some familiar characters.

[MrsCastillo]

Wow, this is so unfortunately real and it’s amazing how you’ve captured so many emotions. I am certain the last few weeks have brought so much trauma to the surface. 
So sad to lose Jenny and Randy too but good to see Sonny and Castillo. 
 

[mjcmmv]

This really hit home for so many of us, Robbie. Meaningful and well written, as always! Thank you...