ordinary people in just a few days. Understand, child?’
Imad said nothing, braking the truck, the air brakes sounding like the howls of some Siberian creature out there on the taiga. Vladimir smiled, couldn’t help himself. It was fun, needling the little shit. Needed to be put in his place. But he had to watch it, he knew: there were many more kilometers left ahead of them.
In Memphis, they were in Overton Park, about five miles away from her home, and Carrie Floyd watched as her daughter Susan flew a kite, her chubby legs pistoning back and forth as she giggled while the little piece of plastic fabric and string struggled to get up into the sky. Next to Carrie was a light blue blanket, the remains of a picnic lunch and one satiated and somewhat groggy Sean Callaghan, her co-pilot and companion. He was dozing, his head in her lap, and she almost had a fit of giggles at what to call him. She was really too old to be calling him a boyfriend, and ‘companion’ was a term that belonged to those members of the gay community — not that there was anything wrong with that, of course (which almost caused her to burst into laughter again), and ‘significant other’ seemed too cold and sterile. Sean was many things, but cold was not one of them, and she was sure — though she had no evidence — that sterility wasn’t an issue either.
This time, the giggles burst through, and Sean opened his eyes, smiled up at her. ‘Did I say something funny in my sleep?’
Carrie touched his forehead, smoothed aside some of his hair. ‘No, you didn’t.’
‘Didn’t burp or pass gas?’
‘Nope.’
The smile grew wider. ‘Then I must be as damn near perfect a man as you’ll ever see.’
That caused a laugh and he laughed with her and said, ‘Marry me, then.’
‘Oh, Sean.’
Carrie looked up and saw Susan now dancing with glee as the kite held steady in the breeze. Some great genes the kid had, for even at this young age she was getting the hang of aerodynamics and lift and wind pressures and—
‘I’m serious,’ Sean said.
She leaned down, kissed his nose. ‘I know you are. But you know the rules.’
‘Yes, I know, and I’ve been thinking about that.’
‘Oh? Care to share?’
‘That’s what I’m doing, love. Sharing. I know the rules. We get married, one of us has to leave. And you have seniority. Got that. But I’ve got a line on a good flying job, out west.’
‘How far west?’
‘Anchorage.’
‘Alaska!?’
The cocky grin that endeared him to her, looking up with confidence. ‘Sure as hell don’t mean Anchorage, Arizona.’
‘Uh-huh,’ she said. ‘Didn’t know Alaska Air is hiring.’
‘They’re not. It’s a corporate deal. Some CEO nut, moved his corporation headquarters up to Anchorage so he could be close to the best huntin’ and fishin’ in the world. Air Force Reserve buddy of mine, O’Toole, he’s decided to re-up and get activated, so the CEO’s pilot job is opening up. Great salary, good bennies, best thing is that you don’t do much flying at all. Just some bush stuff and occasional trips to Seattle or Portland. You’ve got to be on call 24/7, but O’Toole said you can go for weeks without getting paged, and still pull a salary.’
‘Sounds good. For you.’
Sean grabbed her hand. ‘No. For
Something started aching inside Carrie as she watched Susan running back and forth, knowing how she would cherish this sight. How damn attractive, she thought. Not to juggle schedules, doctor’s appointments, school appointments, school plays and presentations. Just retro out and be Donna Reed, staying at home, doing something else for a change, instead of the cargo treadmill. How attractive…
Yet… never to fly again? Never to be the boss of your air machine, ever? Be a hausffau in Anchorage and swap cookie recipes with the neighbors? And Alaska! Sure, a pretty state but she was used to the Memphis weather and—
‘You’re thinking too hard,’ Sean said.
‘No, I’m thinking quite straight,’ she said.
‘All right, then think about this,’ he said. ‘Alaska will be good not only for us, but for your daughter.’
‘Susan? Why’s that?’
Sean shifted his head in her lap, looked over at her daughter and her kite, and the tone of his voice changed, changed so much that it quickly terrified Carrie. ‘Last time I had reserve duty, I was ferrying an intelligence unit over to Hurlburt for a briefing. Stayed the weekend, went out drinking, met up with them. We had a nice chat. Nothing classified, you understand. Just general bullshit. Guy was telling me about our glorious war on terror. You want to know how long they estimate it’s gonna last? Do you?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. Six, seven years, maybe.’
‘Uh-huh,’ he said. ‘Try sixty or seventy years. Or a hundred. Understand that? The past few years, we’ve been in the opening shots of the next Hundred Years’ War. That’s what we’re facing.’
Carrie felt chilled and said, ‘I’ve never heard of that. A hundred years…that’s crazy!’
‘Of course it is, and of course it’s been kept quiet. Do you think Joe American, do you think he and his family and friends, do you think they have the stones to put up with a fight that’s going to involve their children and grandchildren? Do you? No offense to Joe American, they pay the taxes that paid our salaries when we were on active duty, but he puts up with higher taxes, two-hour security lines at airports, and a lessening number of countries each year that welcome American tourists because he believes this war is worth winning, and that we’ll win it, one of these days.’
Sean moved his head again. ‘But how much stamina do you think he’ll have, knowing that this war is going to last another century? He’d say to hell with it, and the hell with the world, and he’ll listen to those politicians and pundits who think Fortress America can keep all the bad guys away.’
‘Maybe it can,’ Carrie said.
‘Hah,’ Sean said. ‘How secure are our borders, Carrie? Tell me that. All it takes is one guy slipping across, carrying a suit-case nuke designed for the KGB back in the 1970s and bought on the black market, and overnight we lose DC or a good chunk of Manhattan or LA. And that’s why the war is going to last for decades. Every other previous war, including the first Hundred Years’ War, was a war between states. You could conquer that state by killing its armed forces and holding the ground. But that’s not the war we’re fighting. We’re fighting an idea, a radical version of a religious belief, and the only way to win that war is to change societies, change people’s minds. And that’s going to take decades. We’ll fight them by killing terrorist cells and overthrowing nations that support them, but the only victory will be when young men growing up in Karachi or Riyadh or Jakarta or even in the slums of London and Marseilles, when those young men decide, they want to live and have families and have good jobs, when all of that is more attractive than strapping on suicide belts and going on jihad. It’s not going to happen in our lifetimes, Carrie. It might happen in Susan’s, if we’re very lucky.’
Carrie felt cold, though it was a beautiful day and a warm breeze was caressing her skin. ‘Why Alaska?’
Sean said, ‘Because except for the pipeline and a military base or two, it’s safe. There’re no real target areas up there. Terrorists like big targets, like big shopping malls, big office buildings, big cities. We could find a place up there and raise a family, and be much safer than living here, in the lower forty-eight.’
‘Sounds like running away.’
‘No, we’ve done our duty, you and me, in the Air Force and Navy. We’ve given our time and talents to the military, put our lives on the line, eaten bad food and slept in strange places, and now it’s time for us to look out for each other. You know I’m making sense, Carrie. You know I am. So marry me and let’s get our lives in order.’
‘North to Alaska?’ she asked, smiling.
