Page 8 of Barry

“Could be Fish.” He stared at his old commander and waited. The expressions that crossed the man’s face were easy to read.

Andrew resolutely shook his head. “He’s dead.”

Ken perked up. “Wait, who’s Fish?”

Barry answered Ken while looking at Andrew. He’d never told Andrew any of the information he was about to spill. “Ben Gill. A member of our unit. I saw him as they were carrying me to the helicopter. His hand was stretching out to me, and he said, ‘Help me.’ We looked into each other's eyes, and I read his lips when he said it. It was as plain as the green paint on that chopper they were loading me on. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t say shit, and then I lost consciousness again. I woke up in the hospitallater. Still couldn’t move or talk. Took almost a year before my brain and body synced up. It was the first thing I told anyone who’d listen.”

Ken looked at Andrew. “Could this guy be alive?”

Andrew shook his head. “No.”

“They never recovered his body, Cap. They never found even a piece of him. Blood of his, a piece of uniform, and they found his tags, yeah, but not even a piece of skin. Kathy said something interesting today. She said we could ask for updated information from the Freedom of Information Act. You know, to see if the information you were given after your discharge has changed or been amended.”

Ken nodded. “If there’s a chance this is our guy, I’m willing to try. Andrew?”

The man leaned forward while staring at Barry. “You can’t get that information through the FOIA program. There were fatalities, and it was a classified mission. If you got anything from the FOIA office, it would be redacted into complete blackness.”

Barry closed his eyes and shook his head. “Damn it.”

“But I can call in some favors.”

Barry’s eyes popped open and jerked so hard Honey got up on all fours, ready to leap off his lap. “Really?” He put his hand on his dog to settle her again.

Andrew nodded. “If only to prove to you once and for all that Fish is dead and your recollection isn’t what it seems.”

“Cap, no matter what the answer is, if you can give mesolid evidence he’s dead, I’ll be one grateful motherfucker. That memory has been messing with my mind since I woke up in that hospital bed.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone.” Andrew shook his head. “Why?”

Barry drew a breath and glanced around. The doors to all the rooms were closed, but he didn’t doubt a few ears were listening. What the hell, he’d come that far. “If you want the honest answer, I’ll give it. Because Ihatemyself for not being able to help you and Gunny. Ihatethat I couldn’t move. My mind was screaming for my body to move, and I couldn’t. If I could have done anything to help, maybe I could forgive myself, but I couldn’t move, and I can’t forgive that. Ever.” Barry let a tear run down his face without swiping at it. “I’m afucking failure, Cap. Ifailedmy unit, you, Gunny. I don’t deserve to be alive. The rest of them don’t deserve to be dead, and that is the why of all of it.”

Andrew blinked and then stood up, walking over to him and lifting him from the chair. Honey jumped off, and Barry braced himself for the fist he knew would fly in his direction. He wasn’t going to duck it. He deserved it. Only the right hook didn’t come. Andrew held him at arm's length and spoke clearly and loudly. “You can’t take that blame. None of us can. Your body didn’t work because the explosion set that bean you have for a brain on its end. Nothing you could have done would have changed that. Nothing you could have done would have changedanything. Don’t hold this inside yourself. It’ll kill you. I know because I’ve been in the exact hell hole you’re standing in.” Andrew pulled him in and hugged him. Barry let the words pour over him. They hit like fat, heavy raindrops on a drought-stricken patch of land.

When Andrew released him, they both wiped at tears. Barry glanced over at Ken as he stood and damned if the man wasn’t wiping at his face, too. “Andrew, can you really get that information, or do you want me to ask the state investigators to try?”

Andrew cleared his throat. “I’ll get it or raise enough hell that Washington will give it to me just to shut me up.” Barry put his hands on his hips and smiled at the ground. That was his Cap, all right.

“Okay, then.” Ken stood up and put his cowboy hat on. “I’ll keep you in the loop on the investigation to the best of my ability, but I’m not getting much.”

“I’ll let you know what information I get,” Andrew said and extended his hand.

Ken shook it and then clasped Barry on the shoulder. “You take care of yourself. Hopefully, the next time we see each other, you won’t look like you want to take a swing at me.”

Barry chuffed out a breath of air. “Doubtful.” He smiled when Ken did a quick double-take. Ken laughed and headed for the bunkhouse door. When the door shut behind him, Andrew sent a right hook to his shoulder.

He grabbed his arm and held tight to the spot of impact. “What the fuck, Cap?”

“That’s for not telling me what’s been screwing with your head.” As Andrew put on his cowboy hat, he added, “Is there anything else I need to know?”

Barry glowered at the man. “Yeah, you about fucking broke my shoulder.”

“Oh, boo-hoo. What would Gunny say?” Andrew asked.

Barry snapped his head up as if he’d been slapped.

“What would he say?” Andrew demanded.

Barry growled, “He’d tell me to screw my head on straight, stop crying, and show up.”

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