any longer. In truth, she really didn't know the answers to those questions and others like them. Others, she knew, whether they truly understood the nature of the problem or not, would decide those issues. What did matter to Kozak that day, as she led her platoon back north into the United States, was that she belonged where she was. She had not only earned the right to be called a combat leader, she was one, in body and spirit.
Leaving the bridge, the column Kozak's platoon was in turned to move onto the interstate and continue north, out of town, to assembly areas. At the turn, Kozak noticed a Humvee parked under the shade of a tree. A woman and an officer, whom she recognized as Lieutenant Colonel Dixon, were sitting on the hood of the Humvee, their feet resting on the I-beam front bumper. Both of them were sipping sodas from oversize cups and watching the column go by. Coming to a rigid position of attention, Kozak rendered Dixon a sharp hand salute, holding it until she had gone well past his Humvee.
After returning Kozak's salute, Dixon picked up his forty-four-ounce drink and took a long sip. He watched a few more Bradleys go by before he said anything to Jan, who was busy with her own drink. 'So, you were saying that our young hero is raising hell with the nurses.'
Finishing her sip, Jan let a tank go by before she tried to answer.
'What I said, dear, was that Captain Cerro had been raising hell with the nurses until his wife got to town today. The head nurse said his wife has gotten him straightened out.'
Dixon raised an eyebrow. 'You mean he's healthy enough for that already?'
Jan looked at Dixon. 'Healthy enough for what?'
'Sex.'
'Scott Dixon, I said nothing about sex.'
'Yes, you did. You said his wife got him straight today.'
Making a face, Jan didn't reply. Instead, she turned her attention to taking another sip and watching more tanks go by. After a few minutes, Dixon sighed. 'Talking about getting things straight. Do you think, Jan, that a high-speed news correspondent could ever find true happiness married to a broke dick tanker?'
Jan took a sip of her diet Coke before answering. 'Maybe. Why, do you know a broke dick tanker who has the hots for a reporter?'
Dixon, after taking a sip from his drink, looked at her. 'Maybe.'
For several minutes, neither of them said anything as they continued to watch the column as the tanks finished passing and another unit of Brad leys began to go by. To the west, the sun was beginning to dip low on the horizon, casting its reddish-orange rays on everything it touched. Dixon looked at the sun, then at Jan. 'Well?'
'Well, what?'
'Well, do you think a news correspondent could be happy married to a broken-down tanker like me?'
Jan looked Dixon in the eyes. 'Is this a proposal?'
'Maybe.'
Pulling the straw from her drink, Jan played with the ice in her cup.
'Ever notice how much ice they give you in these things? It's almost criminal.'
Dixon, serious about his proposal, was tiring of the game they were playing. Taking Jan's hand and pulling her to him, he decided it was time to get a straight answer. 'Damn it, Jan, yes or no.'
Knowing that he was on the verge of losing his patience, Jan decided to play out Scott's own little game a little longer. With a feigned look of confusion on her face, she cocked her head to one side. 'I'm sorry, what was the question again?'
'Jan, will you marry me?'
With a mischievous smile and a sparkle in her eyes, Jan took another sip of her Coke before she looked at Dixon. 'Maybe.'
