0IN THE BEGINNING
BY: DIANA M.
Chapter Five
Duke hated Chicago. He loathed it. He’d visited there as a child once, on a
vacation to Lake Michigan. It was his mother and Jack’s honeymoon, actually, and
they’d brought him along. Looking back now, he wondered who would ever want to
go to lake Michigan for a honeymoon, toting along a nine year old, at that. It had been
a nice cabin by the lake, but Duke had spent his entire time pouting. It must have been
his foul mood then which had turned him against Chicago. Truthfully, they’d only
spent one night in the city itself. But it was the first night after the wedding, and Duke had been pawned off on a family friend and dragged to a ‘fun center’. It was
miserable; Duke endured the entirety of the evening knowing exactly what his mother
and new stepfather were doing. It made him uncomfortable, and the hot, loud, and
strange smelling streets of the unfamiliar city had frightened him.
Even now, driving through the streets in full daylight, he felt a tinge of disgust.
It was a hot, humid day. The air conditioning in his rented sedan wasn’t working.
He wanted a beer and a quick nap. Instead, he had to drive to Eric Freistadt’s
home and yank him away from what was probably some well-earned leave time.
To top it off, Hawk wanted him to drive to Peoria and grab Krieger before heading back
to base. In truth, he agreed with Hawk; it was too convenient not to pick them both
up in one swoop. Yet, Peoria seemed too close to St. Louis for Duke not to feel the
pull of home. The idea of calling Freistadt away from leave reminded Duke too much
of his own premature departure from the comforts of home.
On top of all that, Duke had to admit to himself that he was planning on getting
both Krieger and O’Hara last. He’d known women in the service, but the idea of living
in close quarters and fighting alongside them unnerved him. He had hoped for more
time to adjust to the idea. He was reasonably certain of their abilities, but still...
He nearly missed Elm street, but managed to pull himself away from his
musings to catch the turn in time. Duke found the address he was looking for. It
was a large two story house; the type most families dream of owning but can’t afford.
It was well kept up; neat yard, clean paint. Duke stopped the engine and grabbed
Freistadt’s orders, tucking them into his pocket as he climbed out. Walking up to the
front porch, he could see the only thing truly wrong with the house was its close
proximity to the El. He doubted he could stand the intermittent rumble of the passing
trains. God, he hated Chicago.
Duke stepped up to the front door and rung the bell. Any sound of movement
inside was drowned out by a train, clattering and growling up on the tracks. Duke
turned distractedly to watch the cars rush by. The door opened with a creak, and Duke
turned again and found himself facing a bent old woman. She smiled up at him
with a wrinkled, but cherubic face.
“Can I help you son?” Her voice was warm and encouraging.
Duke took of his sunglasses and hung them from a breast pocket, “Yes ma’am,
I’d appreciate it. I’m here to see Eric Freistadt.”
“Of course you are. I should have realized right away. Come in while I get
him for you,” she led him inside and pointed at a comfortable looking overstuffed
couch, “Eric is out back barbecuing with his father and friends. Have a seat and I’ll get
him for you,” it was more of an order than a request. Duke sat. The old woman
toddled towards the back of the house and stopped at the door, “I’ll get you a
lemonade. Its hot out. I’m sure you’d rather have a beer, but I’m guessing you’re on
duty.” She was out the door before Duke could thank her.
The room was as neat and tidy as the yard had been. Window sills held
whirring fans by open windows; the house was too old for air conditioning. Duke
saw a number of military portraits hanging on the wall. The Freistadt’s were a
career family. Eric was descended from a father and grandfather who had served
as Top Sergeants. That was a plus. Duke doubted he would have gotten as far as
he did if Jack had not been in special forces.
Duke heard a screen door clatter. A few seconds later a young blond man
stepped into the room. He reached up and adjusted his glasses. Duke stood and
was about to speak, but was cut off when the old lady bustled up and pushed a cold
glass of lemonade into his hand. She stayed put in front of him, smiling in an eager,
expectant way. Duke took a small sip. It was tart, but refreshing.
“Delicious, ma’am, thank you.” The old woman’s smile widened and she
happily left the room. She nearly bumped into someone on the way out. Duke
saw that it was an older version of the bespectacled man in front of him; same face,
same glasses, but with thinning, silver hair.
“My grandmother said you wanted to see me,” The young man set his
beer can down on a coffee table laden with neatly stacked magazines.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to cut your vacation short,” Duke held out the envelope,
“I have here your new orders.” Freistadt took the envelope and ripped it open.
He sat down to scan the papers, and the older man stepped forward and shook Duke’s
hand. It was a firm grip, intended to impress.
“Jake Freistadt. I served as a first shirt myself, you know,” He continued to
shake Duke’s hand. Duke smiled at the man, noticing that he, like his own stepfather,
still had the straight stance of a soldier. Old habits die hard. Freistadt senior finally
released Duke’s hand, “ I would say the top is the most important man in the field. You
got your ranking officers to bark out orders. What the Hell, most of them have no damn
clue how to run men properly. Half of ‘em are straight out of the academies. Now your
first sergeant, he’s seen a few. He knows what his men are feeling, and how to
pull or push ‘em through it. Dammit, he’s the only one who cares.”
“Please, pop.” Eric had finished reading his orders and held the envelope in
his right hand. He looked over at Duke, “It says effective ‘immediately’. Does that
mean we leave soon?”
Inside, Duke cringed. He hated taking a man away from family, “It means
we leave right now, soldier. I have a schedule to keep, and you’re not my only pick-
up this trip.” Freistadt senior frowned. Duke finished his lemonade and toyed with
the empty glass, “The sooner you pack, the quicker I can get to Peoria and grab your
new team mate.” and the quicker I can get out of this damn town, Duke thought to
himself. Outside, another El rumbled by. For what seemed like an eternity, both
Freistadts stood in quiet surprise.
The older man broke the silence, “You’d better get to packing, son. Your
country’s calling you. I’ll go let everyone know you’re going,” Eric Freistadt left without
a word. Duke heard him jog up a flight of stairs. The father turned to Duke, “I imagine
something so desperate is some sort of combat. I was in Korea and the “Nam, but my
boy’s never seen a real battlefield.” Duke nodded. Freistadt’s skills would cover
where experience was lacking. “I can see by your fruit salad that you served in ‘Nam
yourself. Makes me thankful. An experienced first shirt will take care of my boy,”
he rested his hand on Duke’s shoulder, “Make sure Eric comes back to us. I know its
a lot to ask, but my son’s all me and the wife have, really.”
“Sir, I promise I’ll look after your son. I never leave men behind. No matter
what. We all come home.” Duke looked directly into his eyes.
Jake Freistadt sighed deeply and turned to go out back, “I guess I’d better tell
his mother. She’ll make a fuss, you can bet,” He slowly headed towards the back
door, but looked over his shoulder as he left the room, “Don’t call me sir.”
Duke smiled to himself. Yessir, old habits die hard.
*********************************************
Duke and Short Fuze got out of the car and looked up at the tall apartment
building. It had taken only three hours to drive to Peoria. Still, Duke was feeling a little
fatigued. Chicago had taken a bit more out of him then he would like to admit. Home
was too close. He felt the pull of home cooked meals and a cozy afternoon nap in the
sweet smelling hay of the barn.
“Come on,” he indicated for Short Fuze to follow him up to Krieger’s fourth floor
apartment, “We’d better get her quick and head back to base. I have a whole mess
of dogfaces to collect, and little time to do it.”
‘Well, let’s go then, Top,” Short Fuze had been very pleased at the idea of a
female team mate. Duke regretted having let slip on the ride over that she had worked
in the modeling industry. Short Fuze grinned broadly as he repeatedly punched the
elevator button, “Cover Girl, here we come!” Duke right then decided to keep his
mouth shut on all future road trips. The flowing hormones were palpable.
Duke sighed and stepped into the elevator. He pressed the fourth floor button
gingerly, and stood cracking his knuckles as the elevator slowly rose. It was a fairly
nice building. Duke doubted he could afford the type of luxury Krieger had been able
to provide her parents with. The elevator alone was a plush job, thick carpeting and
fancy etched mirrors. He wondered what had disillusioned Krieger about the
modeling industry. It certainly couldn’t have been the pay.
The elevator ‘binged’ demurely as they reached the fourth floor. The doors
slid open to reveal a long, posh hallway, broken every now and again by large,
secure looking doors. The rich enjoyed safety and privacy. Duke doubted that the
people on this hallway could name their next-door neighbors.
“What number is it?” Short Fuze hurried out and down the hallway, eagerly
the bronze numbers screwed on the highly lacquered doors.
“408,” Duke took a step out of the elevator and looked around to get his
bearings. Pathetic, the way some deprived troops acted around women. The
apartment was only a few doors to the right of the elevator. Short Fuze had already found it, and
stood by the bell, nervously bouncing from one foot to the next. “Relax, Short Fuze. Remember,
she’s your team mate. You’ll fight alongside her, not to get her.” Duke caught himself checking
his hair in Short Fuze’s sunglasses. Damn. He reached over to ring the bell.
The door swung open to reveal a petite, fiftyish woman in a purple velvet
jumpsuit. She was attractive, in a spendthrifty, motherly sort of way. Her hair
was something to behold; masses of auburn piled in an artistic wavy fashion that
Duke supposed was meant to be seen as ‘windblown’. It must have taken hours to
construct. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in Duke and Short Fuze.
“You must be looking for Courtney. Sorry, boys, you just missed her. She went
to see her friend walk in a show,” she reached over to snatch a small invitation from
a small table by the door, “Here you are. Its a benefit,” She smiled in the sad frowny
face often used by the rich to express pity for creatures in a lower tax bracket, “for
autistic children,” she handed the invitation to Duke, “in Chicago,” she smiled
toothily, “you’ll find her there.” She shut the door in their faces.
Duke slapped his forehead and swore.
Two and a half hours later, Duke and Short Fuze handed the keys of the rented
sedan to a bored looking valet and stepped through the doors of the Biltmore Hotel. It
had been a quick and quiet ride back. Short Fuze had stared out the road while Duke
grimly set out once again for hated Chicago. He’d been so angry, he’d shaved
a half hour off their travel time.
They showed the invitation to a desk clerk, and were led through a richly
decorated lobby to the ballroom. An attendant by the door handed them a program,
“Designers Battle Autism!” the cover screamed in elegant lettering. Duke snorted.
It all seemed somewhat ludicrous.
Short Fuze looked around the room at all the gowns and tuxedos, “I feel sort of
out of place in my greens, Duke.”
“You’re not alone, kid,” Duke wondered how many of these people had
ever worked for a living.
“May I help you gentlemen?” an elderly, overly made up woman in a noisy
satin gown approached them, hands clasped expertly. Duke figured people who
held their own hands had nothing better to do with them.
“Yes, ma’am,” Duke removed his beret and slid it under an epaulet, “ I’m
looking for Courtney Krieger.”
“Of course! I should have known!” The woman smiled broadly and took Duke
by the hand. Her skin felt like tissue paper. “Let me take you to her.” Duke barely
had time to protest before he was towed across the ballroom to a small bar. Short
Fuze followed without a word.
“Courtney, darling!” A tall, slim woman with flowing blonde locks turned
from a bourgeois-looking group to face them. Duke’s elderly guide stopped in
front of her, “Look what I’ve found! Two of your army friends, looking lost and
forlorn! I’ve brought them to you!”
Krieger looked somewhat shocked. Duke noted happily that she snapped
to attention on seeing who they were, “Melissa, how nice, but I don’t-”
“Now now, darling, don’t leave them to an old bat like me!” Duke swore
he saw several layers of eye shadow flake off when she laughed, “Offer them a drink!
I’m sure they’re parched! Bartender, two champagnes!”
Duke cleared his throat, “Ma’am, I’m sorry but we’re on du-”
“Honestly, Courtney, when you quit the agency to join up, I thought you
were out of your mind. But looking at these two, I can see why you did!” She winked
at Duke. He felt his cheeks grow warm. “Well, darlings, I must go! The show’s about
to start, and I have fifteen girls to whip into order. ‘As you were!’ ahahahahaha!”
All three of them watched in awe as she noisily swept back across the ballroom.
“Is she for real?” Short Fuze grinned sarcastically.
“In the modeling world, there’s no such word as real,” Krieger set down her
glass, “Sorry, Top. She’s a crazy old bitch.”
“Forget about it.” Duke smiled. He liked Krieger already, “Your new
orders,” he handed her the now-familiar envelope.
Krieger used a fingernail to slice open the envelope. She slid out her orders
and scanned them quickly, “You mean NOW?”
“I’m afraid so. You both have to leave on the next flight back to base.
Someone will pick you up at the airport. I have to head to Fort Ord for another
pick up.”
“Thank God. I thought I’d have to suffer through this mess for the sake of
friendship,” Krieger looked relieved, “now I have an excuse. Orders come before
anything.”
Short Fuze laughed.
“Let me just say goodbye to my friend, and we’ll go back to her apartment for
my stuff,” she looked down at her elegant gown, “I can’t wait to get out of this thing.”
“You don’t need to go home to get things?”
“Nah. I already said goodbye. Besides, there’s nothing for me there.”
**********************************
It was 3:15 in the afternoon, and Duke was exhausted. He’d taken a shuttle the
night before from Chicago to Watsonville, California, and hadn’t managed to
sleep a wink. As he drove south to Fort Ord, Duke pondered just how much coffee
he could down without negative consequences. Still, he had to admit it was a nice
drive. This time, the air conditioning in his rental car had worked. He could enjoy the
cheerful California sunshine without suffering in its heat. Looking out at the velvety
brown rolling hills, he could see why Gambello had fought for an assignment close to
home. Lodi was only a few hours north east of Ord, and Gambello could easily
take a warm weekend pass at home.
Duke saw Ord up ahead. He pulled off the one and drove to the gate. He had
no trouble getting past the guard on duty. Hawk had seen to it that Duke had the
clearance to pretty much go where he pleased. It could come in incredibly handy
in the future. He parked at the barracks, and went in search of Gambello, secure in
the knowledge that no base commander would get in his way.
He found Gambello easily enough. He was in his quarters, working on what
looked to be a circuit board. He looked up as Duke approached his bunk.
“Don’t bother getting up, troop. Just get an eyeful of your new orders and
get packed,” Duke dropped Gambello’s orders on the bunk in front of him.
The trooper put his soldering iron back in its stand and ripped open the envelope.
Duke yawned. Gambello looked glum.
“What’s the matter, troop? Don’t like your new assignment?”
“No, Top, that’s no problem. Sounds like blast. It’s that I just paid tuition
at State. I even had class tonight.”
“Sorry, kid, you’ll have to get your money back.”
“I can’t,” Gambello looked sadly at the board he had been working on, “They
don’t give refunds.”
Duke wondered how much Gambello had paid. Night school could get
expensive. He’d read that Gambello was going for his Master’s. “No time to
mope, I’ve got to get you back,” and go to bed, Duke thought to himself.”
“Oh, well,” Gambello tossed the board into a nearby trash can, “It was a boring
class, anyhow.”
**************************
“Did you manage to catch up on sleep, Duke?” Hawk smiled across his desk.
“Yes, sir, I hit the sack when I got back from California. That and a few
pots of coffee fixed me right up.”
“How are the boys handling Krieger?” Hawk raised an eyebrow knowingly.
“They gave her a hard time ‘till they saw her take apart that wolverine and
put it back together. Something about a greasy woman playing with gears and
hydraulics that shuts a man up.”
“So you think the mix will be okay?”
Duke helped himself to some of the General’s mints, “Yeah, should be
all right. Cover Girl’s practically one of the boys. We’ll see how Miss. O’Hara
can handle herself later.”
Hawk gestured to the shrinking stack of envelopes, “You’re going for
O’Hara next?”
“No, sir. Next is Graves and Steinberg.”
“Now why didn’t you get Graves this time?”
“I would have, if I hadn’t gone back and forth from Peoria to Chicago,” Duke
vowed never to set foot back in Chicago again, “I’ll have to get him this time out.”
“Very well, Duke.”
______________________________________________________
Continued in Chapter Six!
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