“He’s coming around now, Major,” the Doctor said.
Cooper walked over to Scarecrow’s bedside and peered down at her fiancé, her face stern. “Is he fully recovered?”
“Completely. His vitals are all normal. He’s 100 percent.” The doctor glanced up at the medical display above Scarecrow’s bed, nodding in affirmation.
“Thank you, Doctor. Can you give me the room, please?” Cooper’s smile hid her intent.
“Certainly. I’m just down the passageway if you need me.” He turned and exited the bay.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Cooper leaned in a little closer and gazed into Scarecrow’s eyes as he opened them.
“Okay, I guess,” he replied. He returned her gaze and smiled. “Actually, excellent now that I see you.”
Cooper smiled back and straightened up. Without warning, she drew her hand back and slapped Scarecrow full in the face.
“What were you thinking?” She said in a scolding tone.
His head snapped to one side from the blow. He grabbed his reddening cheek as he turned back to stare at her with shock and surprise. “What was that for? Hey, did they get the guy? Is he in custody?”
“No. He escaped.” She glared at him.
“What? Sandy, if you hadn’t stopped me, he’d be in custody right now.”
“If I hadn’t stopped you, you knucklehead, he’d be dead right now!”
“Your point being?” Scarecrow glared back at Cooper as he continued to rub his cheek. She can pack quite a wallop when she wants to. “After what he did, I wouldn’t shed a tear for him.”
“No, that’s not you talking, Steve.” The major jabbed her finger at him. “The guy I fell in love with is not that cold. That murderous. I don’t know what’s gotten into you. You acted the same way when I was in sick bay after my attack.” Her anger was rising, now mingled with disgust. “I could see it in your eyes. Where is all of this coming from?”
“Three Marines tried to rape you. Then this fourth Marine messed up your quarters, attacked you, drugged you, then he attacked me to get to you. I thought I was protecting y–”
“That wasn’t protecting me. You wanted to kill him. There was murder in your heart. Right now, I don’t know you. I don’t know who you are. The guy I planned to marry was sitting up on a white charger, his armor gleaming in the sun. The guy I’m staring at right now is sitting on a dragon, his armor is black, and it’s smeared with blood …” Cooper paused for a moment, weighing the impact of her next statement. “… and I don’t want to marry him!” She shot Scarecrow a look of disappointment, tossed his dog tags onto his chest, then turned and exited the room.
Scarecrow lay in his bed, dumbfounded. What had he done?
Was she right?
The next morning, Scarecrow reported to Cooper’s office for his ongoing training, only to find her second in command, Marine Lieutenant David Philips, waiting for him.
“Good morning, Commander.” The lieutenant stood as he saluted.
“Where’s Major Cooper?” Scarecrow didn’t return his salute. Instead, he glanced around the room.
“I’ll be filling for the Major today, S–”
“You didn’t answer my question, Lieutenant. Where’s the Major?”
“Um … she said she had some other business to attend to this morning, and she ordered me to–”
“I’m going to ask you one more time, and then I’m not going to ask you again, Lieutenant. Where–is–Major Cooper?” Scarecrow’s frustration was rising.
Philips hesitated, then reconsidered. He sighed before he spoke, “Sir, she ordered me not to tell you.”
“Does a Navy commander outrank a Marine major?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And both outrank a Marine lieutenant. So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell me where I can find her. Now, Lieutenant.”
Scarecrow entered the armory and didn’t look at the master-at-arms on duty. Instead, he headed straight for the hatch to the firing range.
“Sir, the Major ordered me to–”
“Stick it where the sun don’t shine, Petty Officer. I’m goin’ in.”
“Suit yourself, Sir. It’s your hide.”
Scarecrow ducked through the hatch to find Cooper in the center of the range, standing at parade rest. Her combat utility uniform was crisp, her eight-point cover set smartly on her head. And instead of a French braid, the major’s hair was back in its Marine-regulation bun.
Cooper was overseeing one of her platoons at firing practice. The first sergeant was standing beside her. Her back was to the hatch, and she never turned to see who had just entered the firing range. Instead, the first sergeant glanced over his shoulder and flashed a nervous look at the commander.
“Well First Sergeant, I see I’m going to have to have a little chat with my second …”
She never turned as she spoke, but continued to survey her men.
“Major, may I have a word with you?”
“I’m busy, Commander.” Still not turning to look at Scarecrow.
“Major, a word. Please.”
“I said I’m busy. Not now.”
“When, then?”
“I don’t know, Commander. Perhaps later. Much later.”
“I’ll wait–”
“Then you’ll wait until the cows come home!” Cooper spun around and glared as she snapped at Scarecrow. All activity stopped as every eye in the range turned on them. The silence was deafening.
“Did anyone hear me call for a break?” Cooper shouted with anger as she spun back to chastise her men. “Get back to it, you leathernecks!”
Without uttering a word, everyone turned and resumed their target practice.
The first sergeant began to interject with his deep, baritone voice, “Major, if I may–”
“No you may not, First Sergeant!”
“Ma’am, with all due respect–”
“Et tu, Brute?”
“Ma’am, look at the Commander,” he spoke for her ears only. “I’ve never seen anyone more contrite than he looks right now. At least talk to him, Ma’am.”
“Sie Männer! Sie immer aufenthal zusammen!” as she spoke, Cooper cast the first sergeant a look of feigned disgust, and then stared back at Scarecrow. She let him sweat for a moment, then expelled a heavy sigh and stared down at her chronograph.
“Fine. You’ve got three minutes. Not a nanosecond more.” Cooper crossed her arms, cocked her head to one side and waited for him to speak.
“If you please, Major … somewhere a little more private?”
The major threw her hands up and rolled her eyes in frustration. “Keep these jarheads focused on their practice. And not a word, First Sergeant! Nicht eine blutige Wort!”
Cooper stormed through the hatch with Scarecrow on her six, her anger and frustration unable to mar her beauty. Before he ducked through, he glanced back at the first sergeant, who shot him a sanguine smile augmented by a thumbs up.
“Your three minutes starts now.” Cooper held up her wrist and tapped her chronograph. She turned to Scarecrow with a frustrated stare as they entered the passageway.
“Not exactly private, but okay …”
She continued to stare at him as he spoke, waiting for him to begin.
“Y’know, I could’ve pulled rank on you in there–”
“Do you think it would’ve made a difference?” she said. “Get on with it, Commander.”
Scarecrow waited for a pair of crewmen to pass them and move out of earshot while Cooper stared at him with an impatient air.
“Alright, then. Sandy, you’re absolutely right, and I’m very sorry for–”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it. And that’s major to you.”
“Okay. Major. I am sorry. Very sincerely so. It’s just that I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, what with this impending invasion, your assault, and I’ve never been out flown–outmatched before. Edwards was killed, and we almost lost Hutch and Williams. MacPherson’s lost her mojo and locked herself in her cabin, and then this phantom Marine keeps taking potshots at you. It’s … overwhelming. I let my emotions rule my judgement, and I apologize for that. ”
“Excuses, excuses …” Cooper shook her head with a disappointed smile. “Y’know, Commander, when the going gets tough, a person’s real character has a tendency to bubble to the surface. You like to come across as some kind of ‘pillar of virtue,’ but in reality, I think you’re no better than some two-faced, baby-kissing politician.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little harsh, Major? I’m an Air Force combat pilot, not a Marine. It’s not fair to judge me by your standards–”
“You almost bashed that guy’s brains in!”
“Aren’t you forgetting something, Major? If I remember correctly, he almost bashed my brains in.”
“Not the same thing. I don’t want to marry him.”
“Then you still want to marry me?” Hope flashed in Scarecrow’s eyes.
“Your three minutes are almost up, Commander.”
“What can I say, what can I do, to convince you I’m in earnest? I want to get back up on that white charger, but I don’t know how. If you want, I’ll go back into the firing range, get down on my knees, and beg–”
“Don’t you dare!” Her eyes flashed with indignation. “It was bad enough you already barged in there and disrupted my target practice. Don’t you dare embarrass me in front of my men like that!”
“Then what, Major? What can I do?”
“Stop this Jekyll and Hyde act. Go back to being the Steve I fell in love with. Go back to being that Marilyn’s guy–the one who’s not like all the others.”
“I’m there. Right now. I repent in sackcloth and ashes.”
Sandy huffed. “You just don’t get it, do you?”
“Umm … obviously not?”
“After all these years.” She looked away as she sighed in frustration, then turned back to stare into his eyes. “You’re still trying to protect Samantha.”
“No I’m n–”
“How do I know that the next time this phantom Marine shows up, you won’t go all Robert Louis Stevenson on him again?” Cooper’s eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms as she offered her query.
“I can’t answer that. I don’t know what to say to convince you of my sincerity. All I can do is ask that you trust me.”
“I don’t know if I can. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Scarecrow stared into her eyes, trying to find a crack in her shields. She wasn’t yielding. She returned his gaze, stone-faced. He leaned in to kiss her on the lips, but she turned her head away. He leaned in again to kiss her cheek, but she backed away second time, denying him any intimate contact.
“Oh, look. Your three minutes are up,” Cooper said in a matter-of-fact tone. She turned and walked toward the hatch.
“Will I see you later?”
“Don’t call me. I’ll call you.” She never glanced back at him. Instead, with a dismissive wave of her hand, Cooper ducked through the hatch without another word.
Scarecrow spent the rest of the day wandering throughout Nautilus, aimless and dejected. He felt empty. Alone. Like Sandy had ripped his guts out and left a huge, gaping hole that passed right through him. The woman he loved had spurned him. His best friend was in that ivory coffin, fighting for his life. For the first time in his career, he’d suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of an unseen, enemy ace. And an alien one, no less. Never saw that coming. I always thought it would be a Syrian or Iranian pilot, not a seven foot lizard from the Pleaides.
He sighed.
I feel like I’m sitting with my back to the door, holding a dead man’s hand.
He knew Sandy was right. I’ve over-stepped my bounds and acted out of character. Is she right that I’m a fake? A phony? Is it all just an act? Am I really such a hypocrite? What would dad think?
He ached to be able to seek his Pater’s advice, ask the Air Force chaplain if his son’s life was a sham. He searched his mind for some way to appease Sandy, to bring her around to a reconcilement, but he was lost. Nothing came to him. He was trapped in a web of his own making, caused by his overzealous attempts to protect her. To keep her safe. And no matter how hard he tried, he could think of no way to extricate himself.
Is she right? Were my actions an attempt to make amends for losing Samantha all those years ago? Perhaps it was so. Samantha and Chrissy were both disasters of his making, and now all his counselling with the chaplain appeared to be for naught. His mind reeled at the fact he couldn’t lose Sandy, too. No matter what happened, he had to make sure she was safe. But he had to figure out a way to ensure her safety without angering her with his overprotection.
What a mess.
Scarecrow found himself back in his stateroom, lying on his rack, gazing with a listless stare at the overhead. He tried to focus on the situation at hand. He was now acting CAG, and there was a rising threat facing the Solar Warden fleet, and indeed, Earth itself. Countless lives depended on him and his ability to make sound decisions, but no matter how hard he tried to center his thoughts on the coming fight, all he could do was think about the look of disappointment on Sandy’s face. Hmpf. General Patrick was right–relationships took officer’s focus off their duties.
No matter how hard he tried, Scarecrow couldn’t get his mind off the tough, beautiful Marine major who had stolen his heart, then ripped it out of his chest, threw it to the ground and stomped on the shattered pieces as they lay at his feet. He couldn’t live with himself if their current situation remained static.
Scarecrow lay in his rack for hours, rolling everything around in his head again and again, his self-torment merciless. His conundrum threatened to smother him as his breath caught in his throat.
God, what can I do? After so much self-punishment, he petitioned Providence almost without cognizance. With his life crumbling around him, Scarecrow was beginning to believe that even the Almighty was helpless to aid him.
Sleep eluded him. He lay awake, his mind torturing himself with one scenario after another involving Hutch, Williams and MacPherson, not to mention Sandy, each one worse than the one preceding it. What next? Would Reynolds inform me that Command has decided I’m more of a liability than an asset, and have me removed from the Program? He was afraid they would memory-wipe him and drum him out of Solar Warden, and he would never see Sandy again.
And so it went. Around and around, always spiraling downwards, until Scarecrow was sure he was personally responsible for every bad thing that had happened to humanity since the expulsion from the Garden.
And he was sure that somehow, that was his fault as well …
The following day, Scarecrow was useless. He wandered about as if in a trance. He didn’t hear a word of Lieutenant Philips’ instruction during his morning lecture, and the afternoon was spent going through the motions. He avoided any direct contact and didn’t eat a bite all day. At the end of his duty shift, Scarecrow found himself back in his stateroom convinced that not only would the mental torment of the night before be repeated, but that it would continue to worsen.
The silence was shattered by a firm rap at his hatch. Startled, Scarecrow glanced at his chronograph as he bolted from his rack and crossed the deck of his stateroom. It was almost middle watch–he had no idea who could be calling on him at this hour. He opened the hatch to see–
Cooper.
“Permission to enter?” She stared at him, her expression cold.
“You need to ask?” He stepped aside and motioned for her to enter, his heart pounding in his chest. “You know you don’t even have to knock.”
Cooper ignored Scarecrow’s offer of intimacy as she stepped into his stateroom without looking at him. Instead, she glanced around. She was wearing a wispy, white silk blouse augmented by an equally pale camisole, with black slacks and matching low-heeled pumps. Her makeup was done to a tee. A delicate gold chain framed her neck between the “V” of her blouse, holding the tiniest, almost imperceptible cross. And even though she knew he preferred she wear her hair down, Cooper had it tied neatly back into an animated ponytail, her signature aureate tresses cascading in loose whorls half-way down her back.
Lord, she looked good!
Scarecrow was wearing nothing more than a t-shirt with a Solar Warden logo on it, sweatpants and sneakers. His hair had forgotten what a comb was, and he was hours past a five o’clock shadow. Compared to her immaculate, groomed appearance …
“Can I offer you something, Major? Come to think of it, I don’t really have anything to offer you, except … water. I had a bottle of expensive sake Captain Nakamura sent me, but I gave it to Hutch–”
“Nothing, thanks. And we’re off duty now, so you can call me Sandy.” Her voice was detached and emotionless.
Cooper began to move with slow determination about Scarecrow’s stateroom, still avoiding his gaze. She ran her fingers along the edge of his console as if to check for dust. She moved over to his chest of drawers, where she picked up a carved, dark wood picture frame containing a digital photograph of the two of them, taken by Frank on the night Scarecrow had proposed. A memento of a happier time. Sandy caressed her own image on the photo, then put it back on the chest of drawers, face down. Scarecrow came up behind her and picked the frame up, setting it back into its original position.
She reached for a second electronic image in a brushed steel frame, this one of Scarecrow and Zvi at Red Flag in Alaska. They were in flight suits with their arms around each other’s shoulders. The two pilots were smiling, standing in front of Scarecrow’s F-16. His call-sign could be seen written on the fuselage. Zvi had sent the photo to his friend after their recent reunion. Her hand paused over the picture for a moment, then she pulled it back without touching it.
Beside the photo was Samantha’s baseball glove. Scarecrow tensed when Sandy reached for it, ready to intervene if she picked it up. As if by telepathy, her hand stopped short and hovered over the cherished artifact. Scarecrow held his breath. Instead, Sandy’s index finger bobbed as she merely pointed to the glove before pulling her hand back.
As he stood behind her, Scarecrow could smell Sandy’s perfume. That intoxicating fragrance was like a narcotic to him. It made his head swim and provided fuel for his already palpitating heart. Sandy remained quiet as she continued to saunter around his cabin, her movements intended to accentuate her already overwhelming femininity. She was still avoiding eye contact when Scarecrow risked breaking the awkward silence.
“I wasn’t sure when I would see you again. I’m glad you’re here. After yester–”
“Yesterday was a test,” she said. “To see how you’d react to a dressing down.”
“A dressing down? More like a tearing down. A razing. I was decimated.”
“After the way you acted, you deserved it.” Sandy still refused to look at him.
“So did I pass? Your test. How did I do?” Scarecrow avoided agreeing with her assessment.
“The jury’s still out.”
At last Cooper turned to face him, her expression remaining cold and aloof. “Most of the jurors are prepared to offer a verdict of innocence, but there’s still a couple of hold-outs …”
“And what can I do to put it over the top–to sway their vote? Sandy, I would do anything for you. I love you more than life itself.”
“So the admiral tells me. The question is, what are you going to do the next time this phantom Marine shows up?” Sandy’s eyes bored into his, determined to make sure his answer was sincere. Scarecrow let out a heavy sigh as he offered his response.
“I’ll tell you exactly what I’ll do. I know you’re a Marine, and that you don’t need anyone to protect you. I understand that, and I respect it. But my chivalry won’t allow me to stand idly by–I’ll have to intervene. That’s who I am, the real me, deep down, where the rubber meets the road, take it or leave it. I will defend you and protect you to the best of my ability, with deadly force if necessary. Sandy, I will sacrifice my life for you. I thought I proved that when I boarded that BCMS to come and rescue you.” He returned her stare with every ounce of candor he could muster. “But I assure you, whatever I do, from this moment on, it will be completely without malice or murderous intent.”
“You do realize I don’t need you to defend me. I could probably kick your butt, y’know.”
“Without question.” The corners of Scarecrow’s mouth rose in a slight smile. “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if you could burn down your first sergeant. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try and defend you if someone takes a shot at you. I’ll jump in front of the bullet without so much as a second thought any day of the week, and twice on Sunday.”
“No more Mr. Hyde?”
“Hyde is dead. Never to be resurrected.” His words were clipped and resolute.
Cooper continued to scrutinize him. Scarecrow dared to step closer, and to his surprise, she let him.
“I know that my armor is tarnished, but I desperately want to get back up onto that white charger. Please Sandy, tell me what I need to do to accomplish that.”
“You’re still defending Samantha …”
“I can’t help it–” His voice cracked as he fought to retain his composure.
“When was the last time you spoke to the chaplain?”
“With everything that’s been going on lately, not for a while.”
“Make an appointment,” she said, her tone firm.
“I don’t really think it’s help–”
“I’ll go with you,” her voice softened as she replied. She stared at him. He stared back, unsure what to expect.
Sandy slid past him and moved towards the hatch. Scarecrow was puzzled. Is she leaving? He was about to beg her to stay, when to his tremendous relief, instead, Sandy reached over and tapped the control to lock the hatch. She turned back and approached him once more, pulling her hair out of its ponytail and shaking her head so that her golden tresses spilled down onto her shoulders. The action had the desired effect–Scarecrow’s heart threatened to go downright tachycardic. Cooper walked up to him and peered down, avoiding eye contact once more, sniffing around his neck and shoulders, searching for a whiff of his musky cologne while placing both hands open-palmed, on his chest.
“Tell me how to get the rest of the way up onto that charger. Please. Whatever you want … whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. I’ll see the chaplain. Whatever. Please, Sandy … I beseech you.”
“Beseech me?” Her tone carried a slight, patronizing lilt. “Hmmm … Well …” With gentle pressure, Cooper pushed against him. Scarecrow resisted at first, but she increased her force until he relented, moving backwards in a slow surrender.
To his surprise, she pushed him down onto his rack. He fell backwards and she went with him, ending up lying on top of him. He didn’t embrace her initially, but grabbed the sides of the mattress with both hands to steady the two of them. She stared into his eyes as they lay together.
“There is one thing you can do, Lover …”
“Name it, Sweeting. Tell me how I can change my armor so it gleams once more.”
Cooper kicked off her pumps as she wrapped her legs around his, then ran her fingers up to entangle them in his cropped, tousled, dirty blonde hair. She moved her mouth to within less than an inch of his. He could feel the heat from her pouty lips on his own. Those delicious tasting, merlot lips, so close and yet so far. After her rejection of his attempted kiss the previous morning, he didn’t dare move. Her hot breath wafted from her own mouth down into his, and he fought with every ounce of self-control he possessed not to do something that would spoil the moment, turn her off and send her storming out the hatch.
He watched as her icy stare melted and that alluring look returned.
“You can stop talking and kiss me like you mean it, husband-to-be.”
“Oh, Sandeee!” was all he managed to utter.
They crushed themselves together in a passionate embrace, and Scarecrow was swept away to paradise.
“After a kiss like that, you’re back in the saddle again, Galahad,” Sandy said with a gasp when their lips parted. She lay on top of him as he drank in her presence, his arms embracing her in full measure now. All his fears and worries washed away by one breathtaking kiss. She stared down at him, twirling his short, Air Force-cropped waves in her fingers.
“I’m not sorry for what I did to you,” she said. “I was losing you. Losing the Steve I fell in love with. He was being swallowed up by your anger and lust for vengeance, not to mention reliving an event that happened so long ago that wasn’t your fault.
“I couldn’t let that happen. I needed to bring you back. I know it was painful, but I was willing to do anything to keep from losing you, from losing who you really are.”
“It was painful,” Scarecrow replied. “Very much so. But I’m glad you did it. Thank you, Sweeting, for rescuing me from myself.”