She's listening. I can't quite tell which way she's leaning, though she appears to be trying not to smile.

"As for your brother …" I formulate my next words carefully. "He's afraid of something. Maybe learning to defend himself will help him learn not to be."

Her features turn to stone at these words.

Whatever it is, it's not just Todd who's afraid. Sensing my delicate position with the woman in front of me, I keep quiet and study her. I sense more than see that she's reliving something. I can't imagine what kind of nightmare a civilian might have. My thoughts go instantly to ambushes, unfriendly allies and the bad guys I was sent into war zones to hunt down. None of those conditions exist here. I want to think whatever their issue is, it can't be nearly as bad as avoiding sniper fire.

To me, a bad day is realizing the evacs aren't coming, and I'm trapped in a hostile environment with a single canteen of water and one MRE to tide me over while I make my way to a new rendezvous point three days away and try to avoid being discovered, beaten and beheaded. I haven't yet adjusted to the civilian mindset where bad days occur for such reasons as heavy traffic, poor weather and undercooked food.

Of course, I know better than to say such a thing aloud. I focus on what I do know: that Claudia and Todd bear a burden they shouldn't carry, no matter what it might be. This disturbs me more than anything. I don't like the idea of anyone suffering, but a damsel in distress provokes the code of honor I learned from my father.

It means I'm doomed. There's no turning away now.

Finally, she blinks out of her thoughts and focuses back on me.

"I'll think about it," she says and stands.

"You want to call me or something?" I ask.

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"No. You can come back here tomorrow. In the meantime, here's your check."

I take it. The pretty woman is rattled, and I'm sure it's not because of my cheeky self-description. She goes to her brother's booth. I can't hear what she says, but he rolls his eyes in response.

Entertained, I leave her a generous tip, one of my business cards and head out.

I arrive home half an hour later. The massive house is quiet, and I go to the second floor, where the family lives. The first floor is for entertaining and the kitchens.

"Hey, Baba, I'm home!" I poke my head into my father's study. The bear of a man is next to a stone fireplace with a cheerful fire. He's reading a book through glasses perched at the edge of his nose.




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