hand and passed it to his left in a ritual that he repeated every morning. When he finally had a tub of margarine, a jar of grape jam, and a pitcher of orange juice cradled in his left arm, Dixon closed the refrigerator and turned toward the kitchen table. For a moment, he considered going over to the counter where the bread was kept to pick up his English muffins. That, however, did not seem like a good idea, especially since there was no assurance that there would be any left. As he continued toward the table, the sound of the television being clicked on behind him told Dixon that Jan had joined him and was beginning her breakfast ritual.
Dressed in an oversize pink T-shirt that sported Minnie Mouse, Jan made sure that the kitchen television was set to the proper channel before moving to the coffeemaker. With an occasional sweep of her left hand to push her hair from her face, she went about making their first pot of coffee as she listened to the morning news.
Jan, like Dixon, wasn't in the market for a spouse. She needed something more than a husband could provide. That is why she valued Scott as a friend, a lover, and a confidant. But a husband, no. Jan, when she described the perfect husband, found herself describing her father. Her father was a sweet and kind-man, and she loved him very much, but he, or someone like him, was the last person in the world she wanted to spend her life with. In her heart, she knew she could never surrender her individuality and freedom as her mother had. Jan's mother loved her father, and she had no complaints about her life. But she had never been a happy woman. Often, as she grew into adulthood, Jan could see a sadness in her mother's eyes. It was a sadness born from dreams and ambitions that her mother had never been able to fulfill. For most of her life, she had let her dreams, like hundreds of meals, grow cold while she tended the needs of husband, home, and children. Though she admired her mother, Jan knew she could never be like her. So, she had never tried.
It had taken her years, however, to find that she couldn't have it both ways, either. The image of a cosmopolitan woman, doing whatever she pleased and passing from one affair to another as she saw fit, was hollow.
She found that she could not be a free-floating electron for her entire life.
In Scott she had found a person she could both respect and enjoy, a person so different from what she was used to, and yet so comfortable, that the thought of being without him was painful. Scott never sought to dominate or change her. Instead, he challenged her, reveled in the diversity and unpredictability that she brought into his life. She, in turn, enjoyed the idea of being a consort rather than a spouse. When asked why they didn't marry, Jan's response, only half in jest, was that her love for Scott and his friendship was far too valuable to her to screw up with marriage.
The weatherman's announcement that it would be another bright and sunny day, with temperatures reaching one hundred and five degrees throughout most of central Texas, failed to get a reaction from either Jan or Dixon. The statement by the bright-eyed and well-dressed female co-anchor that they would have more on the previous night's attacks along the border after a commercial break, did.
Finished depositing his first load on the table, Dixon turned and headed for the counter where the muffins were kept. 'Another bad night for the home team?'
Jan, with another sweep of her hand, shrugged as she continued to prepare the coffeemaker. 'Seems so. I suppose you don't know anything that you'd care to share with me?'
'Yeah, it's going to be sunny and hot today throughout central Texas.
How's that for a beginning?'
Jan was about to make a comment when the news show continued.
With well-practiced tones appropriate for the seriousness of the story, the perky young female co-anchor started with a recap of the morning's top story. As she had done each morning, with the help of a map in the background, the newswoman enumerated in detail the location, nature, and losses from each of the three incidents that had occurred overnight.
As the newswoman spoke, both Jan and Scott continued to move about in silence, glancing at the television screen every now and then as they continued to prepare their own breakfast. Only when the next commercial cut in did either speak.
'I just don't understand, Scott, why the CIA or the FBI haven't been able to find something. My God, it's like a plot from a cheap horror movie, bodies cropping up everywhere without a trace or clue.'
Dixon grunted. 'Well, my dear, don't feel like the Lone Ranger.
There's a whole bunch of people in Washington, including our dear friend Ed Lewis, who are asking the same question. I just hope those people keep asking questions and looking for the answers before someone does something unsmart and buckles under to the demands for action.'
'Is there really the prospect of some kind of military action in the offing, Scotty?'
Pretending not to hear Jan's question, Dixon pulled his English muffins from the toaster and prepared to spread margarine and jam on them. Jan looked up at him and saw that he was ignoring her, a sure sign that she had hit close to home. Knowing that he would continue to ignore her if she continued to persist in her questions, Jan decided to pull her horns in.
'Busy day ahead of you?'
Relieved that Jan had changed the subject, Dixon turned his attention away from the newswoman's monotone account of the raids. In another hour he would get a detailed briefing by the division duty officer and on- call intelligence officer on all of that. Moving to the table, Dixon sat down, poured himself a tall glass of orange juice, and began to munch on his muffins, talking to Jan between mouthfuls. 'Oh, nothing exciting.
Just the usual stuff. We have a couple of briefings to finish and rehearse, training inspections, and a meeting with some members of Congress and their staff. Seems we lost some facts and they feel the need to come down here and personally find them.'
Though Scott tried to shrug off the congressional visit, Jan knew exactly what it was for, based on the members of Congress who had come. Congressman Harriman, chairman of the House Armed Services Committee, along with Congressman Ed Lewis from the House Intelligence Committee, had been dealing with only one subject for the past week; how would the Army secure the nation's southern border? Harriman's inquiries into plans to use the military had, to date, been stonewalled by both the White House and the Pentagon. Only Lewis's investigation into the failure of the CIA to predict the coup in Mexico, now broadened to include its inability to find an explanation for the border raids, was yielding any measurable action. The continuation of the raids, however, without producing any worthwhile clues or information, made those efforts appear to be weak and feeble. Jan knew that Scotty was working on some kind of contingency plans, and that eventually both the White House and the Pentagon would have to give in to pressure to do something. Only a show-stopping revelation would stop that.
Still, Jan knew that, when it was ime, she would find out from official sources, just like every other newsperson. She loved Scott Dixon too much to jeopardize her relationship for a fleeting news story. Deciding to avoid the subject, she asked if the reception for the congressmen was still being held that night.
Spitting out tiny chunks of muffin as he spoke, Dixon cynically remarked that such affairs were where congressmen usually looked for the facts they were after. Then, as an afterthought, he asked Jan if she was still going to delay her trip to Brownsville and attend the reception.
With a sweet smile, Jan cocked her head to one side and held her coffee cup out. 'Now, Scotty dear, what do you think?'
'Just checking, just checking. You remember how to get to the officers' club, Jan?'
'Yes, dear, I do. And Scotty, please do me the favor and wash your hands before meeting me there tonight. The last time I went to one of these after-duty things it took me a trip to the cleaners to get the smell of tank out of my clothes and two days to get it off my skin.'
Dixon smiled. 'Why, Jan, are you objecting? If you remember, we had some of the best sex we ever had during those two days. You know how excited tankers get when they smell gunpowder and diesel.'
'Scotty, if that's what it takes to get you up, then I think we need to take a serious look at our relationship.'
Finished, Dixon stood up and walked around the table until he stood behind Jan. Reaching down, Dixon ran his right hand along Jan's neck and into the wide opening of the oversize T-shirt she wore. With a light, gentle touch, Dixon began to play with Jan's nipple as he bent over and kissed her on the right side of her neck. 'Okay, we'll talk, but later.'
While Colonel Salvado Zavala discussed the need to end bread rationing in the southern states with the
