Page 20 of Pride

SEVEN

Anna

I wasn’t sure what problems existed between Fisher and the man we’d driven across the United States to see, but I had my suspicions. I stood nervously at his side while the neatly dressed gentleman walked past us and sat down on the sofa.

He was in his forties, tan, lean, and tall. His hair was cut close to his scalp on the sides, and the top was barely long enough to comb. His eyes were dark and filled with wonder.

He waved his hand toward a loveseat that was on the other side of the room. “Have a seat.”

Fisher walked to the center of the room, turned to face the man, and crossed his arms. “I’ll stand.”

I stepped beside him and rested my hand against his lower back.

“I spent seven years thinking about it,” Fisher said. “Two thousand, six hundred and forty-five, to be exact.”

“I’ve given it some thought as well.”

“You didn’t testify at my hearing. The one fucking person who could have exonerated me, and you didn’t show up. You knew Hickman fired that shot.”

Fisher took a step toward him. “You fucking knew it,” he seethed. “But you didn’t say anything. They scoffed when I said it. Hell, ballistics could have proved it. Your sorry ass let me rot in prison for seven years.”

“Sergeant Knox. I was…”

“Shut the fuck up, Pratt. I’m talking, you’re listening.”

Pratt fixed his eyes on Fisher. “Continue.”

The tone of the conversation had me so tense that I was shaking. I pressed my hand hard against Fisher’s back to steady myself, hoping he didn’t notice how nervous I’d become.

“During my court-martial, I asked myself why you didn’t show up. Why you didn’t testify. Hickman was dead, so there was no loss in revealing the fact that he fired that shot. Then, it came to me. The gold. Staff Sergeant Hickman and I were the only ones who knew about it. With him dead and me in prison, you had nothing to worry about.”

Gold? What gold?

Wait a minute.

You didn’t kill that man?

Pratt seemed as confused as me. He scrunched his nose. “Gold? I have no idea--”

“It wasn’t on the manifesto. Don’t lie to me. I wrote Corporal Jones, and had him check. It wasn’t listed. You were the Captain. You filled out the daily reports. It wasn’t reported.” Fisher gave the room a quick survey with his eyes, and then looked at Pratt. “My guess is you paid for this with it.”

“Listen, I don’t know--”

“Hell, I paid for this fucking place,” Fisher said through his teeth. “One day at a time. Seven fucking years worth.”

“That gold was shipped to the base camp,” Pratt explained. “If it wasn’t on the manifesto—”

Fisher pointed to the floor between them. “It was shipped right fucking here. Lie to me again, and I’ll twist your head off your shoulders and toss it in your swimming pool. That’s a fucking promise. You know me. Ask yourself if I’m willing – and able – to do that. Your selfish and greedy decisions cost me seven years of my life. I’m right, you’re wrong. Own up to what you did.”

Pratt seemed to be digesting what Fisher said. After a moment of fidgeting in his seat, he stood. His face had lost its glow, and was now a pale white.

I feared where the conversation was going, and what Fisher might do if Pratt didn’t satisfy him fully. As I envisioned Pratt’s head bobbing in the swimming pool, he responded.

“What is it that you want?” he asked.

“I’ve been asking myself that same question,” Fisher said. “For years. Seven of them, to be exact. I struggled with taking some of your gold, but I told myself it wasn’t right. So, I tried to decide who was entitled to it. By military law, it’s the government’s property. But, they didn’t shed any blood to get it, and they didn’t watch their brethren die in the process of taking that little village where we found it. In the end, they’d squander it like they squander every other dollar they get their hands on. So, who’s entitled to it?”

He raised his index finger. “My world is black and white. Everything’s either right or wrong. That gold was Saddam Hussein’s property. He slaughtered his countrymen to get it, so by all rights, they should be entitled to at least some of it. That much I’m sure of.”