Capítulo 7: Part 1: Chapter 7: the truth is not always easy.
She looked at him quizzically. "Why?" His news floored her. Miserableness made way for curiosity.
"Because I had to. My parents forced me." His gaze on the landscape.
"Your parents?" She remembered them. They were never fond of her. Coming from a mining community, she was beneath their class. The Scott's never accepted her.
"Yes, I told them you carried my child, but they didn't care. My father enlisted me. Before I could get away, they dragged me away. All communication severed." He removed his glasses and cleaned them before he concealed his eyes once more. Never meeting her watchful gaze.
"I tried to contact you after the basic training, but you were not at the flat. I was going insane with worry and searched for you, but had to return or face jail time."
Silently she examined Brady, her own hurt so real she struggled to believe his version. She hated him. It kept her going; motivated her.
"The landlord evicted me. I didn't eat for days," she peered at the surroundings. A slight breeze played with her curls. "I slept with men for a meal while my body ached with the pregnancy. The things they did with me I don't want to remember." Her disgrace was enormous and Brady wrapped her in his arms. With her face buried in his shoulder, she cried.
Once calmer she pushed him away - the sadness replaced with disdain. "Because I was underweight, starving in fact, he came too early. A police officer took us to the hospital where the nurses helped me. A benefactor enrolled me in the nursing program. Here I am, re-experiencing the events through the many women in this god-forsaken country." Her voice laced with frustration.
"I am sorry for what I have done to you. I should have fought harder," he sighed. "I still love you, Sonia. You always had my heart," he assured her.
She stopped him cold.
"Please go, Brady. It isn't true. There's nothing more to say."
"If only …"
"There's no if's, Brady. You're too late." She pushed him away.
Brady watched her disappear into the medic tent and his shoulders drooped.
Yes, he was too late, and he lost.
***
Shielded eyes followed Sonia’s retreating back before it sculpted into a frown. He observed the white man as he slumped with defeat and clicked his tongue: "Nu lalaki bodas teu terang kumaha ngatur awéwé," (The white man does not know how to manage his woman.) He grinned.
"Éta awéwé anu kuring nyarioskeun ka anjeunIt." (It is the woman I told you about) the soldier said. Well-hidden from prying eyes they followed the woman as she did her duties.
"She knows the white man's medicine. She can help," he explained.
"Why do I need another woman?"
"You don't have one like her. She is a healer." He glanced at the leader. "If you don't want her as a woman, I will take her."
Since he saw her on Monday, he was obsessed with her. His prestige would grow even more with her at his side.
The leader snickered: "You don't know how to please a woman, and that one is trouble."
"I have learned," he hissed. The older man waved him to silence.
"No, you're right. I can use another woman."
"You right, she is trouble," the youngster replied. He wanted her from the moment he saw her.
"We must plan this carefully; too many eyes," the leader said.
"No, we can do it when they leave."
"No, I don't trust the white man." The leader nodded in Brady's direction.
"We do it when she's alone."
***
Iraqi desert.
"Sergeant Clark, where is the vehicle report? Ralph put it on my table. I'm sure of it."
After a quick search, Doug handed it to the colonel. "Here it is, Sir."
Curt snapped it away. "Get me, Saunders!" he ordered.
Curt peered out the window. The phone conversation he had with his daughter disturbed him.
Jillian never cried. The truth disclosed through tears shocked him to the core. It was not fabricated from a young, deranged woman looking for attention. No, rather from a much abused one. Why didn't they tell him any of this earlier?
How could Vivian do this?
Her lover seduced Jillian, and she did not stop it. Even his son, Mark, two years younger than Jillian, suffered abuse under the man.
He was still motionless when Clark and Saunders returned.
"Sir?" the sergeant said.
Startled Curt looked at both and barked: "At ease!"
"Take a seat."
With the temperature at 47°C, their clothes were saturated with sweat. A slight breeze filtered through the flaps, but it made no difference. The fan did not disturbed the air either.
Curt offered them water and returned to the report, the shortages of parts for the vehicles, serious.
When a soldier approached Doug with a message from radio control, they stopped. He relayed the message to the colonel in a hushed tone.
Curt excused himself. General Cartwright wanted to meet.
"Good day, Curt." The impressive figure of the general appeared on the screen. Friendly greetings exchanged before the general came to the point.
"Private T. J. Cummings has allegedly murdered a woman. They said you refused to send the file."
"Yes Sir, I did."
"Why?"
"Something is off with this case. Before I hand them the file, I want to speak to Cummings first, sir."
"He is no longer under your command after he deserted his post."
"No matter, General, he needs help. I don't think he did it."
"I don't care what you believe. Send the file and get it done."
Curt did not like it. That the general phoned him, meant someone higher up demanded it.
He had been optimistic about Private T. J. Cummings' future. His knowledge made him an asset. He lived in the country his entire life; he knew the area and spoke the language fluently.
Back then Curt hoped the soldier would explain the events which triggered the AWOL. No one had seen him ever since, until now.
Why would he murder someone? It was not his nature; he was military potential. Now he faced jail.
Back at the office Ralph awaited him with another emergency and sent the file to the mailroom. With it he sent hope that all would work out for him and that his future would not be marred by this case.
The envelope marked:
TOP SECRET General Cartwright.
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