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“Yes, sir.”
“Sergeant Fortenaux, you will station yourself outside Major Miller’s door and report to me immediately by telephone if the major leaves his apartment.”
“Yes, sir.”
“May I suggest, sir,” Miller said, “that the sergeant could keep a closer eye on me if he was inside my apartment. I also suggest, sir, that if my neighbors see an armed Marine standing outside my door there would be talk.”
Porter glowered at him.
“Very well,” he said finally, then started for the door. He turned. “I’ll be in touch shortly, Major Miller, just as soon as your transportation has been arranged.”
“Yes, sir.”
Porter went down the corridor to the door. After a moment, they heard it close.
Miller went to the corridor to see if Porter was really gone, then turned to look at Gunnery Sergeant Fortenaux.
“Relax, Roscoe,” Miller said. “I read the sign. I understand your problem.”
“What sign is that, sir?”
“The one behind Station One at the embassy: A MARINE ON GUARD HAS NO FRIENDS.”
“That’s boot camp bullshit,” Fortenaux said. “What the fuck did you do?”
“I’m going to make coffee. You want some?”
Fortenaux nodded.
They went into the kitchen.
Miller took coffee from a cupboard and then pointed at the coffee machine.
“If you think you can work that thing, I’ll take a shower.”
“Go on,” Fortenaux said.
Fortenaux, carrying two mugs of coffee, came into Miller’s bedroom as Miller was getting dressed. Miller took one and nodded his thanks.
“Like I said, what the fuck did you do?” Fortenaux asked.
“You don’t want to know.”
“Something to do with that honky bitch from the CIA?”
“Hey, Roscoe! How can we get pissed when they call us niggers if we call them honkies?”
“Point taken,” Fortenaux said. “Something to do with that white lady bitch from the CIA?”
Miller nodded. “But you really don’t want to know more than that.”
“You in the really deep shit?”
“I’ve got a pal who said he’s got me covered,” Miller said. “Until I learn for sure otherwise, I’m going to believe that.”
“Your pal has the clout?”
Miller nodded again.
