Drone

“You do realize I’m on East Coast time, right?” Early wore his fatigue like a five o’clock shadow. His cross-country adventure had started late and it had only gotten much later. He’d flown into Fairchild AFB from Washington, D.C., on a DoD Gulfstream C-37A, then borrowed an unmarked Air Police sedan to make the hour’s drive from the air base to the coffeehouse. “Couldn’t we have done this tomorrow?”

Pearce grinned. “How the heck have you been, Mikey?”

A waitress with a buzz cut who was wearing skinny black jeans and neck tats sauntered over to the table. Her long, thin fingers held a notepad and a badly chewed pencil.

“Whatchyawant, amigo?” she asked Early.

Early’s eyes drifted to her chest and the small, firm breasts underneath her tank top. Pink letters flashed the restaurant name: GLORY BOX.

“What’s good here, sister?”

Her listless black eyes wandered around the room.

“Everything.”

“What do you like?”

“Veggie empanada’s good.”

Early admired her tongue stud. “Got any meat to go with that?”

“Beef. Chicken. It’s all organic and range-fed.”

“I suspected as much. Toss some chicken in the empanada. And some coffee would be great.”

“What kind? We’ve got fifteen different blends in the pots.”

“Black. Hot. You pick the rest, okay?” Early smiled at her. “I’m a real good tipper.”

Her eyes drifted back to his. The corner of her mouth tugged just a little. Almost a smile.

“’Kay.” Her eyes lingered on him for a moment. Early wasn’t hard to look at. She wandered off.

“When did you go hippie?” Early asked, glancing around the room.

Pearce poured his first cup of tea.

“Food’s good here. The tea’s better. Got to eat right, you know. You look like shit, by the way.”

“I missed you, too. It’s been, what, eight years?” Early asked.

Pearce shrugged, a bad memory suddenly on his shoulder. “Something like that. How’s Kate? Still in remission?”

“Yeah, thank God. Thanks for asking.”

“You married up. Everybody knows that except her.” Pearce smiled. “But she did all right, I guess.”

“I’m a lucky bastard, no doubt about it.”

“And you climbed the ladder. Congratulations.” Pearce raised his cup in salute.

“It’s a job.” Early looked around the dark room. “Maybe if it doesn’t work out, you can put a word in for me. I could dig working in a place like this.” The beefy former special forces operator glanced around the room. “I wonder if they have a health plan.”

“What brings you to this neck of the woods?” Pearce asked.

“You, amigo.” Early smiled.

“Well, here I am.” Pearce took a sip of tea. “That about do it for you?”

“We need your services.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Pearce asked.

“‘We’ is me and the number one boss lady.”

“Seems to me the boss lady has a lot of employees to carry her water. You don’t need me.”

“For this job, we do. No one else can hack it.” Early turned serious.

“Off the books, I take it.”

“Yup.”

Pearce thought about it for a moment. Took another sip of tea. “No, thanks.”

Early frowned. “It’s damn good money. I thought you were in business.”

“I am. Doesn’t mean I take every job. Don’t have to. That’s why they call it ‘free’ enterprise.”

“It’s for a good cause, Troy. You remember those, don’t you?”

“I used to believe in Santy Claus, too. Good causes get people killed, just like the bad ones.” Pearce leaned in a little closer. “You remember that, don’t you?”

Early’s foul mood turned even darker. He did remember. It’s why he’d left the service a few years after Troy did.

“Yeah. But this time it’s different,” Early said.

“That’s what they always say, until it’s not.”

“No, seriously. Myers is different.” Early meant it. “You know Kate’s loaded. I could be reef diving in Fiji right now if I wanted.”

Pearce smiled. “You were always such a Boy Scout, Mikey. You think this president is different because she’s in the other party? Don’t be naive.”

“No, I’m not talking about that. She’s in there for the right reasons, doing the right things. Or at least trying to.”

“Really? Then why hire me? Sounds like she’s trying to cover her ass on something.”

“No. She’s straight up. Trust me.”

The waitress sauntered back over with Early’s plate and a cup of coffee. She set them down on the table. “Chicken empanada and sides.”

“Looks good,” Early said.

“Is good,” she insisted.

“What kind of joe did you bring me?”

“Tanzanian peaberry.” She turned to Pearce. Her face softened. “More tea?”

“In a while. Thanks.”

“I’ll check back in a few.” She drifted to another table.

Early watched her for a moment. Caught her stealing a glance back at Pearce. Early stuck his fork into the empanada. “She’s sweet on you.”

Pearce shrugged. “She had a little boyfriend trouble a while back. I made it go away. That’s all.”

“And you call me a Boy Scout.” Early shook his head with a smile as he took another bite.

“You know how you can tell when a politician is lying?” Pearce asked. “When their lips are moving.”

“Man, this is really good.” Empanada churned in his mouth like tube socks in a laundromat dryer. “You want some?”

“No, but thanks.”

Early took a sip of coffee. Examined the cup. “This is unbelievable. Maybe she’s sweet on me, too.”