in here.”
“I know you report to Major Lewis, so I want him to hear this.”
She nodded in encouragement.
“I want to kill the bastards. I want to hunt every single one of them down. I want to burn their entire drug running operation to the ground. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
She paused thoughtfully, letting his words hang out in the air. It was important to let his own words register with him.
“You’re not ready yet.”
The digital curtains and paintings glitched.
“I know; I have to complete my physical therapy.”
“I wasn’t referring to your physical recuperation.”
“Oh, here it comes. So I’m not psychologically ready.”
She leaned back in her chair, her voice now softer but firm. “Peter, you’re very angry and looking for revenge, and you haven’t dealt with the loss yet.”
Peter was growing tired of the psychobabble. “And…”
“And that would make you dangerous. Dangerous to any soldiers we would put in your charge, particularly for the program that Major Lewis has in mind for you.”
“Yeah, no one’s exactly told me what this program is actually about. How do I know that I even want to be a part of it?”
“For the exact reasons that you have just elaborated. You want revenge, but in time, I’d like to modify that motive a bit. Eventually, you can come to the conclusion that it is important that your men…your friend, Delroy Apone…didn’t die for nothing.”
Peter nodded in agreement.
“Right now your vengeance makes you reckless, impulsive. You would run into any fight to exact your revenge. But it has to be about more than that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that it has to become more than about you and your guilt and making yourself feel better.”
He stood up out of his chair, shaking. The paintings distorted momentarily. “How dare you imply that I’m being selfish.”
She stood and met his gaze. “So far, all I’ve heard about is how you feel. How sad you are. How angry you are. How you miss your friend.”
“What the hell else am I supposed to say?”
“It’s not all what you say, Peter. What are you going to do? Are you going to deal with your loss and move on so that you can do the right thing for your men and your country?”
Peter slowly lowered himself into his seat. He had never thought of it that way before. She was right. He couldn’t just return to Mexico, guns blazing, shooting up the place.
His men in Tijuana deserved more, and if he were to return, the new soldiers in his charge would deserve more too. They deserved a CO who would have a clear head and show good judgment.
“And…how do I go about doing this?”
Captain London sat down and smiled. “You’ve already begun. That’s what you’re here for, Peter. You can’t do this alone.”
Peter nodded silently.
“Peter, the Chinese have a saying: ‘In every crisis there is danger and opportunity.’ The danger is that you’re too traumatized by what happened in Tijuana and you’ll wash out, but there’s an opportunity. Deal with you grief, your guilt, and your loss and return to Mexico wiser from experience.”
She hesitated, choosing her next words cautiously. “And this new program is like nothing anyone’s ever seen before. It needs competent leadership. It needs you, Peter.”
“I understand.”
She sized him up for a moment, registering his sincerity, but she wondered if he had the will. They would both find out soon enough.
“I think that’s enough for today, Peter. We’ll meet again next week. We have a lot of work to do.”
“Yes, I suppose we do.”
“By the way—standard question—I don’t have to worry about you hurting yourself or anyone else, do I?”
“Just the Navajas.”
“Good. See you next week.”
He stood and saluted, and she dismissed him. He left and the digital curtains and paintings from his youth switched off. After he left her office, she sighed heavily and opened his file. Before she registered her session note, she dialed Major Lewis.
“Hello, Major.”
“Did you see Sergeant Birdsall?”
“Yes, we just concluded our first session.”
“So, what do you think? Is he ready?”
She paused. “No, he’s not ready yet, sir.”
“How long?”
“I’m not sure how long, if ever.”
“You’ll keep me abreast of his progress?” It was an order more than a question.
“Of course, Major.”
“It is important that he get back on the horse. If not, he’ll wash out.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Good day, Captain.”
She hung up the phone and stared into thin air, lost in her thoughts for a moment. Rehabilitation of Sergeant Birdsall was certainly possible. Soldiers in combat situations had to deal with trauma and