Sweet Dreams Part 3 View to a Thrill
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"Good morning, Supervisory Agent Batista," the 3rd floor receptionist said, her eyes smiling welcome. "I'm really looking forward to working with you."
Osvaldo returned the greeting. Though his office had a window, and carpeting, and some really nice maple ply furniture, it was still in an office park with tall buildings that blocked a view from any direction but to the north. His third-floor office overlooked the roof tops of a housing development, and into the hillside beyond.
It didn't matter, he thought, as the flood of administrative trivia of moving to a new sector and a new job in the Border Patrol consuming his morning abated. From his rented house in La Mesa, he could look down the slope to the Navy's yards, and beyond that sparkled the blue ocean.
It was like coming home. Next week his mother would fly out from New York to visit. Osvaldo wished he knew more about what happened to Sparks and her boyfriend after the gunfight, his rest was uneasy knowing his life had improved and not knowing about them.
09:05 PDT Monday, August 26th, 1991Rm 4 Building 1091
NAS Alameda, CA
The voice on the speakerphone was brusque. "The two soldiers are unavailable. One's starting at the DLI, the other is in Ranger Indoctrination, both will be unavailable until at least the new year."
"Yes, sir." Lt Rudolfs, SW, USN met Chief Kostowe's eyes. "We'll go with our first choice."
09:40 Tuesday, August 27th, 1991Building 102
Ft Huachuca, AZ
Things had happened quickly on her return to Huachuca last week. Sandy had called Lt. Colonel Paulson from Dulles Airport, and had barely mentioned a commissioning program when he informed her he'd already started the application for the 'Green to Gold' program for her. It wasn't certain she'd be accepted, he said, but with his indorsement, and the ARCOM, plus the letters of commendation from the Border Patrol and from her chain-of-
command in D-86th Signal, it was fairly likely. Her reenlistment – set for later this day – would help also.
Sandy had hand-carried her 201 file and her associated pay records across the post, where she'd given them to a friendly-enough Department of the Army (DA) civilian.
Getting a class date for 97G20 was moderately hard, she'd been told – there were only a few times a year the school was offered, as it was an MOS restricted to soldiers who'd been active for two years and had reenlisted.
Sandy supposed it was to avoid wasting serious time, effort, and money on soldiers who did not plan on the Army as a career. Leaving D-86th Signal this week, her next stop was the Defense Language Institute. There she would take an intensive three-week long course in South American Spanish, and a second class in Colombian colloquial Spanish. This would leave her with four days before the class for 97G started.
Sandy was sure there was no coincidence at all in the choice of languages and regional dialect.
"So, Sparks, it looks like I'm giving away my best soldiers." First Sergeant Davis asked her into his office, after Captain Gammill had shaken her hand, thanked her for her exemplary service, and wished her the best of luck in her career. It didn't take long for him to drag the events at Fort Benning from her.
"Um." Sandy didn't give any other response.
"Yeah, my best soldiers. You'll be here on Huachuca for a while, don't be a stranger. Come on over to the house from time to time, Sandy. You're welcome in our headquarters any time, too. And we'll probably see each other on the range."
"Ben's not through RIP, though. He's starting this week."
"Sparks, I have no concerns there. Call Colonel Paulson or me when you get in over your head, or your Navy friends. Me, I have a simple rule: stay away from boats, they sink." With that witticism, the man shooed her out of his office.
Sandy was absolutely positive she'd talk with the man again.
End of volume one, Specialist-Fourth Sparks. Volume two, The Gunny and Lenore will follow.
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