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“Because we can’t change the larger cultural and socio-economic factors in play, really,” Linda said.

“As long as drugs are so damn profitable, the cartels are going to be able to buy or intimidate the locals into silence if not outright support. I mean, the country we went to, Brutus, the average rural worker makes about three hundred dollars a month or less. You can buy your local chief of police for about two thousand bucks. Five thousand will get you your own police department for a couple of months. And that’s if you’re playing nice and not just intimidating them into helping you.

Meanwhile, the United States spends roughly a hundred and fifty billion dollars a year on illegal drugs.

That’s bigger than the economies of all but six Latin American countries.

That’s before you figure in sales to other countries, and the other little corruption businesses these cartels run on the side.

Those guys can literally buy a whole country, and there’s not much we can do about it. ”

Brutus got up, walking across the bathroom to try and calm down before thumping his fist against the log wall of the cabin.

“Then why? Why are you doing it, risking your life like you did if it’s just going to be… irrelevant?”

“You think it’s irrelevant what I did?” Linda asked, her voice tight. She sat up in the tub, lifting her knees to give her a more stable sitting position. “Why?”

“Because I know what your people were talking about. God Linda, I’ve lost count of the number of parties, or even locker rooms, I’ve been to where someone offered me some marching powder, or any other street name for drugs you might know.

And that’s not counting the number of guys who simply toke up.

That’s just a huge gray area, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Linda said. “You think I didn’t grow up surrounded by that shit? I saw lives ruined by drugs, remember? Brutus, yesterday I ruined at least a ton of pure coke on this mission. That’s something. Something you should think about.”

“I-” Brutus growled before taking a deep breath.

He wanted to go back and sit down next to her again, but he could feel the anger inside him. He wasn’t going to be good company right now.

“You’re right. I’m going to do what my therapist keeps telling me to do, and take a walk. I need to process my feelings right now, because I don’t want to fight with you over this. This argument isn’t worth hurting your feelings over. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

He left the cabin, walking through the darkness along the softly lit path to the main resort building.

He didn’t have any real goal in mind, just to breathe and let his anger be.

It was the key, Dr. Caster said. Not to reject his anger, and not to embrace it…

but just to acknowledge it. By acknowledging it, he took away its power to control his actions.

As his feet crunched on the gravel, he thought about what Linda had been through. He wondered if drugs had touched her sister’s life, the one who’d gone to Bayamon for a few years, or maybe her friends growing up. Had it played a role in the assault she’d endured as a girl?

What drove her to be willing to get shot in order to get the mission done?

When he got back to the cabin, he saw that the small dining table was set, with their dinners laid out. Linda was still in her bathrobe, her hair up as she sat in one of the chairs, waiting for him.

“Your timing’s impressive. They left like, two minutes ago.”

“Good.” Brutus closed the door behind him. Crossing the room he reached out a hand, and when Linda took it he pulled her up, looking into her beautiful dark eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For not understanding. For not trying to understand why you’d accept the job you do,” he said. “For being so… accepting of getting shot. Linda, the past few days have been hell for me. Minicamp was shit knowing that you might be in danger.”

“You know why I couldn’t tell you,” she said, and he nodded.

“I know. I just… getting my mission cherry popped isn’t very much fun.”

Linda smiled. “You’ve definitely been talking to Sabby I see.”

“She’s weird.”

Linda laughed, nodding. “But fun, in small doses.”

“And she was the one who texted me, telling me you’d be back today.” Brutus shrugged his shoulders. “So I’ll accept her weirdness. Linda, the reason it sucked is because I’ve never been in this position before.”

“You mean being the one in the relationship who has to worry about the health and safety of the other?” Linda asked.

Brutus nodded.

“I’ve spent a lot of time the past few weeks thinking about it. How I’m going to face four months of you putting your health and life on the line every Sunday.”

“Could be Monday or Thursday,” Brutus pointed out, trying to keep it light.

Linda frowned. “I know. And I won’t say I haven’t been greedy in the past. I’ve never tried to understand what my ex-girlfriends might think about the dangers of football.

I’ve just accepted it, and if they couldn’t accept it, there was the door.

Don’t let it hit you in the ass on the way out, you know? ”

“I’ve heard it a few times.”

“And now the shoe’s on the other foot. The idea that you could get hurt on a mission scares the shit out of me. And I don’t want to walk out the door, or to see you walk out the door. At the same time, I don’t want to lose the woman I care about.”

Linda reached up, cupping his cheek. “I understand. But I’m a soldier, Brutus.

It’s who I am, who I want to be. And while this mission might have been just a stopgap measure, a temporary ding in the cartel’s operations, I’ve had enough missions where I know I’ve made a difference.

Even if it’s just to save a few people, I’ve made a difference. That’s worth a bruised tit.”

Brutus nodded, and swallowed. “I don’t quite understand Linda… but I promise you, I want to try.”

“That’s a start,” Linda assured him. “Now, if you want to really start, I could use a little pampering from my boyfriend… if you want to try.”