Chapter 5 / Page 4

Harper shrugged. “Maybe we should go a few rounds, Louis. Best two out of three. I promise not to break too many bones. Better yet, why don’t I deal with your two flunkies? I’m sure we’ll be able to get the blood out of the carpet—eventually.” He paused. “I want you out of here, Louis. I don’t ever want to see you again, and if I do, I’ll break something on you.”

“Jim, we do have laws against such behavior,” he chided.

“Laws never bothered you before, Louis. In fact, nothing moral, or right, or good, or pure, ever bothered you.” He spat the last out like bitter peanuts.

Louis nodded again. “We need you, Jim. We need what you, and only you, can give us. We need you.”

“The last time you needed me, a whole bunch of people got killed. Good people got killed for very bad reasons.” He walked around the parent wall to the door and flipped the lock shut. “What did you ever tell those mothers as to why their sons came home in body bags?”

Louis turned to face Jim. “We told them—”

“We!” snapped Jim. “There’s no we here, Louis. What did you tell them? Did you go to their homes and knock on their doors? Did you fold up a flag and hand it to a young wife with a little child? Did you give a medal to a heartbroken father with some letter written by our President? Did you do that Louis? Did you make the calls?”

A thought occurred to Louis. Maybe the truth would work with Harper. It was a rare concept for Louis Edwards; he would have to think about it before employing such a bold tactic. “No. I didn’t make those calls. A Marine Corp Major and a Chaplain made those calls. I did write the letters, and those boys did die for their country. They followed you, Jim, because they believed in you.”

Harper closed his eyes, not wishing to see those men. “They followed me for duty, honor and country. Nevertheless, somebody knew we were coming. Somebody told them where to find us. And they kept shooting.”

“You lived and a few others made it out. They lived because you brought them out, Jim,” he reminded. ”There were some who wanted to nominate you for the Medal of Honor. Of course, it was a black op and everything—big time presidential awards would be somewhat out of step for what never happened. You’re a hero.” He leaned back against the half wall. “Those boys you brought out alive, they’ll always remember you. And this time it’ll be different.”