That Night in Cartagena

Renata had told me a lot more than she realized. The Army base was Camp Grafton, but it wasn't really a US Army base, at least not according to official US Army documents. It was a training base for the North Dakota National Guard and had live fire ranges as well as a little over ten thousand acres of grassland that was perfect for training assault and defensive techniques on open ground. A lot of other states sent their guard units there for annual training.

Tucked away at one end of the runway and away from all the other buildings was a large building that was newer then the others. That building held a barracks for twenty people and had a full cafeteria and a few training rooms. The instructors come from all over the US military and they all have two things in common. They have years of experience in doing what they teach, and they never wear uniforms or have military style haircuts. As far as anyone in Devil's Lake knows, they're just civilian employees of the National Guard Training Center.

I'd taken a ten-week class there in infiltration and covert operations techniques. During that ten weeks, I'd spent a lot of time crawling over that grassland in a ghilli suit and hoping the instructor couldn't see me. I'd been back once more for eight weeks of training in cold weather survival techniques.

Renata had also confirmed what Jerry had told me. Fisherman's Lodge was indeed a privately owned hotel supposedly serving people who came to Devil's lake to fish. The room rates were lower than the other area hotels, so it was usually booked up for both summer boat fishing and winter ice fishing.

The private owner was a government agency I can't name here, and some of the employees were there to serve as security for what was actually a safe house for anybody who needed a safe place to stay for a while. The reason Renata and her daughters had been taken there was so nobody could easily get to them.

I confirmed that myself as well. The place had a full time gardener, but I'd never seen a gardener before with the print of a pistol under his shirt. There were also two men who Renata said had permanent rooms. I'd seen them sitting on the dock fishing when I drove up, but they were looking at me a lot more than they were watching their fishing lines. When one of them turned, there was the print of a pistol under his shirt too.

Jerry had filled me in on Fisherman's Lodge right after he fired me. I'd expected to be fired so that was no shock. What he told me next was.

"Andres, like I suspected, I have to terminate your employment with the company effective two weeks from now. That doesn't mean you're out of a job though. Remember Camp Grafton? They need an instructor. I said they should talk to you. Fly up there next week and see what you think."

When Renata finished, I told her how I found her and why.'

"I'd finished another job and was taking two weeks off to rest, but I couldn't rest. I kept wondering what happened to you and where you were. I finally walked into my supervisor's office and said I wanted him to find out. I can't tell you how he did it, but a couple days later he told me where you were."

I grinned then.

"He also fired me."

Renata just looked at me for a few seconds and then gasped, "You lost your job because of me"?

I grinned again.

"Yes, but I got another one right here in Devil's Lake, well, at Camp Grafton. I figured I'd stay here for a week while I'm house hunting. I start at the first of the month so I have time to get settled in before I start work."

I reached across the table and put my hand on Renata's.

"Renata, what I realized that two weeks I was off is that I didn't want to be without you in my life. I know, it seems like we haven't known each other long enough for me to feel that way, but when you've spent as much time in the military as I did, you learn to size up people pretty fast. You know who'll have your back and who you'll have to watch out for within a week, sooner if it's in combat. I've seen you when things were about as bad as things could get, and you didn't back down. I've seen you when you thought you were safe and you were a perfect lady. I've seen you when we...well, that was the first time I felt this way. I thought that feeling would go away, but it didn't.

"I don't know if you have the same feelings about me or not. If you don't, I'll find another job somewhere so I won't be around to bother you. If you do, well...maybe we could try it out for a while and see if it works, and not just you either. I miss Felicia and Maria too. I never got married or had kids, and I'd like to think of them as the kids I never had."

We're starting our third year together, and it's been a great time for both of us. I'm teaching at that special school at Camp Grafton and I really like what I'm doing. It's kind of like when I lead an LRS team. I'm not easy on the students, both men and women now, because their lives depend upon learning what I teach and learning it so it becomes second nature. I also get to know each student so I can help them work on things the need help with and praise them for what they do well.

I bought a house a few miles from Devil's Lake and Renata and her daughters moved in with me. It's been interesting living with three women after spending most of my life with men, but we're managing. I just have to remember that I need to knock before opening the bathroom door and not to complain about bras and panties hanging from the shower curtain rod. I'm going to fix that next summer by getting another bathroom installed off the master bedroom.

Renata works at that special school now too. I don't know and I don't want to know what's brewing at DEA, DOD and State, but I'm seeing a few students now who are obviously not US Army. For lack of a better word, they're too "polished". They have US Army personnel folders, but they seem to all have college degrees in things like psychology or engineering or chemistry. Most don't know any foreign languages, so Renata gives them ten weeks of intensive classes in Spanish. By the time they leave, they can read and write Spanish and speak it without much of an accent.

Felicia and Maria are doing pretty well, considering what they've been through. It took almost a year before either of them went into Devil's Lake for anything. Now, they usually go into town to the diner for dinner on Friday and Saturday night and then have a couple beers at a little bar called The Busted Bronc. They tend to spend a lot of time getting ready, and they're usually late coming back. They say they're learning to line dance, but Renata says that's not why they go. She says they're starting to talk about what they're going to do now that they're in the States and don't have to be afraid anymore.

I've been to that bar before, and it's usually full of young guys in jeans, fancy western shirts, cowboy boots, and Stetson hats. Some would see them as a rough crowd, but they're really not much different than the guys I led in LRS or me, for that matter. They work on cattle ranches so they're confident and capable of handling about anything that comes their way. They're the type of guys Felicia and Maria would probably feel safe with. I'm sure Felicia and Marie are girls any one of those guys would give his left nut to have on his arm. After all, they're beautiful and not much different than their mother.

Well, it's Friday night and the girls are in town. They'll probably not be back before one or so. Renata said she was going into the bedroom to change into her pajamas and we're going to watch a movie on TV. We do that almost every Friday and Saturday night, but somehow, we never manage to finish that movie.

Mostly that's because Renata doesn't seem to understand the meaning of pajamas. To her pajamas mean just a heavy terrycloth robe with nothing on underneath. That robe has a way of coming unfastened and then gaping open within about the first fifteen minutes of the movie.

Now, there is no way I can look at Renata sitting there with her big breasts and furry mound exposed and stay interested in a movie. I have to touch her breasts and that leads to her snuggling up closer and stroking my thigh and that leads to...

Well, you can guess what that leads to. It leads to a re-play of that night in Cartagena, the night that, though I didn't realize it at the time, Renata became a part of me that I couldn't let go. It's been no different any other night since I found her again except each night brings us closer together. I didn't think that was possible, but that's what's happening.