Embassy of the United States, Ankara, Turkey
“You know what I miss the sound of?”
Dawson looked over at Niner. “What?”
“Church bells. I can’t remember the last time I heard them.”
Atlas’ voice rumbled across the room, it small yet comfortable, provided to them while they waited for transportation to the Akinci Air Base then back home. “What made you think of that?”
Niner nodded toward the window. “The calls for prayers over those loudspeakers. You hear it all the time. But I can’t remember the last time I heard church bells. I think I used to hear them as a kid, then again, maybe I’m remembering it from movies or TV.”
Spock cocked an eyebrow. “With the amount of TV you watch, I think most of your childhood is probably false memories.”
Niner whipped a coaster at him, Spock easily catching it without moving anything but his arm, placing it on the table beside him. “Throw something bigger next time, little man.”
Atlas chuckled. “He’d need some muscle for that.”
Niner gave him a look. “Hey, I may not be a human Michelin man like you, but I’m wiry.”
“Uh huh. Maybe they should have put a lean Asian at the end of Ghostbusters then.”
Niner smacked his forehead. “Dude, you and I have to sit down for an Essentials Eighties Movie Marathon. That was the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, not the Michelin man.”
Atlas shrugged. “Huh. What do you know, I don’t care.”
Niner’s head lolled toward Dawson. “Can we leave him behind next time?”
“I might leave one of you behind.”
“Hey, I can’t believe you’d even consider blaming me for his ignorance of pop culture. I’m Korean, from a starving family, and I know everything about American culture.”
Everyone groaned, Atlas shaking his head. “You’re as American as I am, born in Florida, with relatives living in a nice, modern country like South Korea. And the next time I hear you bring that up, I’m going to plant you like a damned human vegetable in the dirt then piss on you to see if you grow.”
“I could use a few extra inches.” Niner held up a finger, cutting off Atlas’ retort. “Hey, no locker room talk!”
Atlas chuckled, Spock snickering, Dawson watching the door as someone rapped twice then opened it. A Marine corporal stepped inside. “Sir, call for you.” He pointed to the phone. “You can take it there, line three.”
Dawson nodded, the room becoming silent as their mission to review Embassy security was complete, this call unexpected since almost no one knew they were there. He picked up the phone as the door closed. “This is White.”
“Good morning, Sergeant Major. Busy?”
Dawson smiled as he recognized Colonel Thomas Clancy’s voice. Clancy was the commander of Delta and one of the few senior officers he actually completely trusted, Clancy having proven on more than one occasion he believed firmly in the ‘no man left behind’ doctrine that soldiers relied upon in the field. Sometimes Washington brass were too quick to abandon the principle for Special Forces teams when their political taskmasters felt they were about to be embarrassed, but Clancy never did.
He was a soldier’s soldier, and his men would fight and die for him if he asked them to.
“Not busy, sir, just waiting for our ride home.”
“Well, sorry to change your plans on you, but you’re needed in Germany.”
“They visiting the French again?”
Clancy chuckled. “No, but a friend of ours might need extraction.”