This work of adult fiction, loosely based on characters portrayed by Russell Crowe, includes adult language and experiences; you have been warned.  No copyright infringement on the original work is intended.  Copyright Diana Walker and Reagan Kavanagh 2005.

Authors’ Note: If you wish a brief synopsis of Aristophanes’ classic comedy, Lysistrata, click here. Otherwise, here are the first two sentences of the ‘official’ synopsis. “Simply stated, the plot of Lysistrata depicts Athenian women who are fed up with the Peloponnesian War, so they barricade themselves in the Acropolis. They orchestrate a sex strike in order to force their husbands to vote for peace with Sparta.”

23 September 2005

REAGAN

The look on Terry’s face was not encouraging, and his response was even less so. Well, I hadn’t expected this to be easy. I looked at Dee then back at him as he spoke.

“Reags, with all due respect, I don’t think this is something we’re going to do.” Yeah, I rather thought he would say that, but Dee and I were ready for him. Let me rephrase that …I was ready for him. Dee would provide reinforcement if my usual powers of logic and persuasion failed. Of course, Terry’s arm around her shoulder might undermine her determination.

“Terry, with all due respect, I don’t think Dee and I are giving you three a Hell of a lot of choice in the matter.” He had started to light a cigarette when he finished speaking and paused in mid-draw, his hand still cupped about the lighter.

“What do you mean?”

“Does the word Lysistrata hold any significance for you?” He exhaled heavily, dropped his head, and shook it in resignation. Maximus and Dino looked at each other. Terry took another very deep drag on his cigarette, blew the smoke toward the ceiling of our lounge, and looked first at Dee, then at yours truly before turning to Maximus and Dino.

“Mates, we’re fucked.” Maximus raised an eyebrow at him.

“Terry, I believe what you mean is that if we do not, we are not. And, quite likely, will not be for a very long time. I fear I am no better at negotiating with women than was the Commissioner.” Dino actually laughed. Dee reached up and took Terry’s hand that was around her shoulder in her own. Well, he’ll still be getting some. Guess the Lysistrata threat was void where he was concerned. Still, I was relatively sure the soldier in Terry wouldn’t desert his buddies in the face of threat. He’d likely tough it out just to keep Maximus company. Yeah, right.

“Well, hell, that may work on you two, but they have no ability to impact my lifestyle.” That from Dino, and Maximus turned a basilisk stare on him.

“You think not?” The laughter died on Dino’s lips. If Maximus was unhappy, he could - and would - make Dino's life miserable as well. Dee and I wouldn't have to lift a finger.

Terry looked back at me. “Given that you two know we have nothing in the pipeline for weekends until the Ambassador’s ball, I surmise arrangements have been made?” I smiled. I even made a valiant effort not to look triumphant. I failed miserably. I handed each of them a brochure. Dino spoke first.

“Where the fuck is Lake Palestine?” Maximus answered.

“About 30 miles from Reagan’s childhood home, in what I believe is termed the East Texas Piney Woods.” I smiled and nodded. Terry was still staring holes through me. Like Maximus, he has that basilisk stare elevated to an art form.

“WHEN?”

“You report at 2000 hours Wednesday. It’s less than a three-hour drive from here. I took the liberty - and yes, I acknowledge that it’s a rather large liberty - of speaking with Sooze, and she’s agreed to take the con on Thursday and Friday and through the weekend. You’re essentially a virtual office already. If you take weekend kits with you that morning and leave the office at 1600, you’ll have time to kill.” I could almost see the thought ‘or kill YOU’ running through Terry's head. It was pretty clear that I needed to expand a bit on my logic for this. Would the day ever arrive when anyone other than Dee and Maximus would get it the first time through without my having to go through the long-winded psychological explanation? Knowing my luck, the answer to that was a resounding NO.

“Terry, this is not about you three hugging each other and crying and singing Kum by Yah because you’ve gotten into each others’ heads. This is about learning to trust. If you don’t trust your current reality – and the current reality is all that any of us have, irrespective of how we got here – you will never be able to trust what you have in this life. Lacking that and given the events of the last few months, you will never trust each other again. Don’t you think that last bit makes this worth the effort?” His look was more than a bit sceptical, as was Dino’s. Maximus was the only one of the three not giving me a fish-eyed look. At least he was willing to give this experience the benefit of the doubt. Of course, that’s because he trusts me implicitly. Moving right along …I still had Terry and Dino to convince.

“This camp orients itself to the needs of executive-level professional men. For lack of a more polite euphemism, the staff is accustomed to working with Alpha males. I think the three of you qualify.” That got a look from all three of them, and Dee rolled her eyes at me as if to ask, ‘Did you have to say THAT, you fuckwit?’ Well, yes, I did. Dino couldn’t let my Alpha males comment pass, but I knew Dee was about to lay into them.

“Are you implying that we’re hard to get along with?” Well, Pal, if you want to run your neck out, I’ll be happy to lop off your head for you.

“Not precisely, Dino. What I am saying - not merely implying - is that each of you is accustomed to being in the driver’s seat. Each of you was - and are - accustomed to giving orders and having them obeyed. Each of you is accustomed to unquestioned obedience from your subordinates. How am I doing so far?” They looked at each other then back at me. Terry answered.

“So far, you’re spot on.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Thanks very much. Now, the problem is that individuals – men in particular – who are accustomed to giving orders have a tendency to trust no one’s judgment but their own.” The rapid shifting of eyes from each other to points beyond and behind the individual they had been looking at until I dropped that last bombshell told me that I had just put the final nail in their collective coffin. “Terry, when Maximus told you about me, you didn’t trust his judgment not to be clouded by his emotions, did you?” No response, just a fixed gaze at the wall above my fireplace. “Dino, when Terry told you he’d made a preliminary check on me, you didn’t trust him to have been sufficiently thorough, did you?” Dino looked out the French doors at the north end of the property. “Maximus, you didn’t trust either of them to trust your judgment of me, did you?” I’ll give him this …he met my gaze straight on. I looked at each of them in turn and asked again.

“Well, did you?” Maximus spoke.

“No, I did not.”

“Terry?” A shake of his head.

“Dino?” Deep sigh, followed by a shake of his head.

“Don’t you three think that’s a significant issue, given that in the past you’ve each had to depend on one or both of the others to watch your six? Isn’t that a problem, given that you all know you will be in that situation again?” They finally looked at each other and then Terry pulled at the scar above his right eyebrow; that’s when I knew I had him, and if he rolled over, Dino had little option but to follow. I wonder if Terry realizes that’s a major tell for him? He stopped fingering the scar and looked up at me.

“Okay, Reags. You’re right. We do have a major problem, I admit that. But I’m not sure that this encounter – is that what you call it? – is going to work.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t give it a shot, will you, Terry?” He shook his head in resignation.

Fortunately, Dee jumped in to try convincing them from a different angle.

“Looking at this from an organizational development standpoint, your company is at a crossroads. You don’t do what you do to play soldier-boy. You three actually want to make money doing things you’re good at, and, yes, that you love doing. The bad news is that the way you three are operating right now, you’re guaranteed not to make money. You can dunk along like you are at the moment and pray you never get into a situation in which you really need the others. If you need each other in the field, sure, your military training will kick in, and everyone will come out relatively unscathed. But do you really want that little niggling doubt hanging around? As I see it, there are options on the table. If you want to be known as the premiere K&R guys that every insurance company in the world is competing to have handle their clients, you have to fix where you are. Here are what I perceive as viable options.

“Option One: keep operating exactly the way you are now. Option Two: break the company into three different pieces; you can operate as a loose association. Option Three: go on this retreat, put your hearts and souls into it and fix this. Option Four: liquidate. Fellas, I’m looking at this from the perspective of a hard-headed business standpoint. Money is not the be-all/end-all in this world but having it is a hell of a lot better than not having it. Options One and Two look to lose the most money. Two is most expensive from the get-go; One will lose money over the long term.”

Dino looked like he was throwing a gang sign to me; he had his thumb folded over his pinkie with his three middle fingers pointing straight down. Apparently, he liked her third option. Dee never expected to be involved in a corporate discussion with TEO. She must have spilled her presentation style to him sometime earlier this month.

Terry turned to Dino and Maximus as he sighed. “Mates, it appears that we’re on.” Dee and I managed not to high-five each other while the men were still in the room.

Maximus stood in the doorway, his grip on the floor, and cupped my face in his hands.

“You know that I can make no promise to you regarding the outcome of this weekend.”

“I know. All I ask is that you try. Terry and Dino are going to find this more difficult than you will, simply because your history is one that did not look down on a man who displayed emotion. Their 20^th century socialization is going to make this a lot tougher for them. Romans didn’t consider showing emotions unmanly; 20^th century men were taught to suck it up and not show their feelings. I expect you to lead the charge. You have the edge, Caro. Use it.” He kissed me, then bent to pick up his grip and started out the door but turned before walking down the sidewalk. He smiled, put his closed right fist over his heart and spoke the words that said so much about him as a man.

“Strength and honour.”

I watched him drive away in my Jeep. The three of them would be driving down and back together as it was foolish to run three separate cars to East Texas; Terry’s Jag and Dino’s Ferrari would be perfectly safe in the car park at the Renaissance Tower until they returned Sunday evening. Even though Maximus' car can– technically - seat three people in addition to the driver, those in the back seat would be miserably uncomfortable within half an hour. My Jeep was the logical choice. Dee had volunteered her Tahoe, but Dino nixed that because of the always pervasive odour of horse blankets and feed. Maximus had promised to call when they arrived at the retreat to let me know that Terry and Dino had actually accompanied him.

TERRY

We left the office at 1600 on the dot, giving Sooze the desk for the weekend. She knew where we were going and had the location of the closet site suitable for a helo to put down if all Hell broke loose, and we had to scramble. For the first time in yonks, I was praying something would pop – anything to give me an acceptable reason to cancel this bloody weekend love fest that Reags had arranged for us.

How did I manage to let myself get sucked into this? Right – Diana. It was clear she and Reags had discussed the reasons for this trip and were agreed it was the best solution available, and I truly was more than a bit willing to do whatever it took to assure her of my devotion to the cause. Perhaps this would be a good time to acknowledge that she – Diana – was my primary ‘cause,’ and if going along with this retreat would help sway her to my side, I would do it. Of course, there was one other thing that got my attention. One word, dropped by Reags. Lysistrata. Max and Dino got that message as well, and we were all willing to do whatever was required not to have that particular option brought into play. I was pretty confident that Diana wouldn’t cut me off, but out of esprit de Corps, I’d have been honour-bound to join Max in his enforced celibacy.

Sheilas. They always manage to get the upper hand on us, don’t they? It occurred to me that if all women could get on as well as Diana and Reags, the fairer sex would have an advantage over men from which we would never recover …which brought me back to Lysistrata. Fortunately, I don’t see that happening, as most women seem to trust each other even less than do most men. Diana and Reags are the only exception I’ve ever seen to that rule.

Trust. I recall Max once saying that any given word can have multiple meanings, and that all of them should be explored. That made sense enough. This morning whilst Diana was in the shower, I’d got online and popped the word in to see what the Internet had to say about it. I’d smoked three fags just sitting there, rereading and thinking on what I’d found.

trust   noun.

1. Firm reliance on the integrity, ability, or character of a person or thing.
2. Custody; care.
3. Something committed into the care of another; charge.
   1. The condition and resulting obligation of having confidence placed in one
   2. One in which confidence is placed.
4. Reliance on something in the future; hope.

There were other definitions, but those related to law and finance and had no application to Dino, Max, and me; however, those first four hit me right between the eyes and the last one was dead on. How long had it been since I’d actually relied on anyone’s integrity, abilities, or character aside from in a professional venue? How long since I’d entrusted my spirit – or my heart – into the custody or care of another human being? Commitment – confidence in someone else, again, in other than a professional setting? But in truth, that last one was the one I knew Reags was after, and it jumped off the screen at me; more than that, it went straight to my heart. She wanted the three of us to have faith and rely on the future, to believe that we actually had a future here. She wanted us to have hope again. Just sitting there and thinking, I’d gained an entirely new level of respect for her. She’d seen through all the bollocks and straight to the heart of the underlying problem. I’d bet sitting in one of her classes would be an eye-opener.

Until I’d read those definitions and thought about them, I’d been planning to just get through the weekend as if it was another operation. Now, I was rethinking all of it because this wasn’t just about Max and Dino and me, this was about something even more important to me; this was where I had to start if Diana and I were to make a go of what I hope – and believe – we’ve found in each other. If I tried to manipulate her, we had no chance because she’d suss me out in a heartbeat. Of course, that was a two-way street, as she was going to have to open herself up and learn to trust me as well. Her interrogation had accomplished the opening up bit. Her answers had been her safe way of telling me about herself. I had offered the transcript to both Dino and Max; they both had declined reading it. Max said that if Reagan and I were satisfied, he had no need to read something so personal. Dino had said, “She was talking to you, no one else.” Learning to trust me with her heart was a different matter entirely.

When she’d got out of the shower and walked into the lounge on her way to the kitchen for another cuppa, I’d stood to meet her. “Get your cuppa, Diana. We have to talk.” I could tell by the change in her posture that she assumed she would not like this convo. She wouldn’t be thinking that for long.

DIANA
“We have to talk.” I hate it when Terry says ‘We have to talk’ even more than I do when Reags says ‘Trust me.’ He’s leaving, just like I knew he would. I pushed him too hard on this team building exercise, or what I said in the security check finally sank in. Well, at least I had my dream for two weeks, and realistically, I hadn’t expected that much. I got a cup of coffee and walked back to join him. His laptop was open on the coffee table, and as he took my hand and pulled me down to sit beside him, he motioned to the screen.

“Read that.”

Trust. I read and then turned to look at him. This little retreat weekend for Terry, Maximus, and Dino was about rebuilding their trust in each other, but as I read the words on the screen, I began to realize that Terry had just made the leap to it being about us, too. Trust. How long has it been since I’ve trusted anyone other than Reags? To date, she’s the only person in my adult life that I’ve known longer than a year who hasn’t violated my trust. We’re going on five years now and I think we’ve pretty much seen each other at our worst, and she’s still here. Well, hey – so am I. Neither of us has bailed on the other. Maybe I do know how to trust. One person in my whole friggin' life; now that's sad.

I turned to look at Terry. “OK. What do you want to talk about?” He’d called this meeting, and by God, he was going to run it.

“Diana, I’ve never been good at trust. Used to think I was, but sitting here and thinking on that,” he gestured at the computer screen, “I wonder if I’ve even known what it is.” He took my hands in his, looking down at them, turning them palms up, and then just holding them. “I want to make you a promise.” Not another one. I felt something inside me clench.

“You don’t owe me anything, Terry, so don’t say something you don’t mean. And uh-unh. Do not put me into this bucket with you guys. This is about your company, not us.” His eyes bored into mine.

“Diana, the promise is that I will do everything I can not to muck this up between us. I will do everything I can to actually cooperate with the fucking programme this weekend because I need to learn how to trust …and not just how to trust my partners. I need to learn how to trust so that I can allow you trust me. I don’t know how successful I’ll be, but I promise you that I will try.” He let go of my hands, reached over and closed the computer, and stuffed it into its carrying case. Standing, he slung the case over his shoulder and walked to the door where his go-bag sat and turned back to me, crooking a finger at me and smiling. I stood and followed him. He pulled me in for a soft kiss and rested his forehead on mine before speaking again.

“I’ll see you Sunday night.”

DINO

“Are we having fun yet? And I hope you two guys got laid last night because it may be the last shot you have for a damned long time.” Tio grinned at me in the rear view mirror.

“No, Mate, that wasn’t the deal. The deal was that we show up. We’re on the road, and the two of us are golden. Can’t say the same for you.” Of course Maximus was the one with the stick up his ass and put in his two cents worth.

“We gave Reagan and Diana our word that we would make a good effort, and we will do so.” Well now, the General has spoken.

“Max, you ain’t my CO.”

Terry snickered but sobered immediately. “That’s rather the point of our being on this little excursion, isn’t it?” Fuck if he didn’t have me there. I pulled the map out of my pocket and opened it, then looked at the highway sign we were approaching. “Keep your eyes peeled, Max. Highway 20 takes us to 69, and that goes the rest of the way to the lake …69 …now there’s a lovely thought.”

Terry laughed out loud. “That road had to be named by Doofus Bob.” Max was fighting not to snicker. Doofus Bob? I was the one out of the loop on that one but figured they’d clue me in later. We were quiet for a few, and then Max hit us with it.

“I have been thinking more this week about the origins of our lack of mutual trust. I fear it is that we have not accepted our reincarnations in this life. Let us keep that possibility in the back of our minds during this weekend. Given the insights we hope to gain from this experience, perhaps we can discuss that more fully on the trip home. It seems logical that part of our difficulties stem – as Reagan posited – from the fact that we are all accustomed to being in command. Might we consider which of us is most appropriate to take control in certain types of situations? Every man has his níché, and we might wish to work toward identifying ours as individuals, both in terms of the firm as well as in our private lives.”

Terry spoke first, thank God, and I got the impression he’d been thinking about this for a few days.

“Organisational design – we each keep our current geographical designators simply because we know the languages and cultures involved, as well as the geography. We keep our current titles, but no extraction is a one-man operation. It may be that only one man goes in-country, but each of us will be involved with all missions from here out. I see my strength as planning. Dino, you’re the procurement specialist as you can get anything, anywhere. Any special gear or tricks required are your purview. Max, you take the delivery from Dino and get it deployed. If that doesn’t foster team work – and trust – I’m not sure what will.” That brought up an entirely new set of issues.

“I can do that but in order to make it happen, I need to know who the go-to guys are in the areas of operation for both of you, and I need to meet them yesterday. And now that I think about it, why aren’t our go-to guys along on this little weekend love-fest?” Max looked at me in the rear view mirror and dropped the bomb.

“Because Reagan and Diana do not know them.” We all had to laugh at that because it was true.

We had taken Highway 69 through Tyler and south to some berg called Bullard, hooked west onto 344 and on to the lake. A couple of hours later we pulled into the retreat and looked around as we followed the signs to …of course. The Barracks. That's the name of the camp. As I exited the car, I just had to say it.

“Boot camp. Thought I was twenty years past that. Max? You need to have a little chat with Reags and tell her we expect better accommodations at this stage of our lives.” Remind me never to bitch about accommodations to an old Roman soldier.

“Dino, I assure you, this is luxurious even in comparison to my quarters as a general.” Well, yeah. I suppose times have changed, and his frame of reference was a hell of a lot different than mine and Tio’s. Terry had an observation of his own.

“Mates, best not to complain about the digs to her, else it will likely be worse next time. This may be incentive to get it right the first time.”

MAXIMUS

We followed the signs to the barracks we were to occupy whilst here, parked, and strode toward the facility with our grips in hand. Apparently, we were the last to arrive as all save three of the ten beds had bags on them. We would be sleeping in what I have come to know are bunk beds; one was totally empty, and one had a bag on only the bottom bed. Dino and Terry had stopped to converse with two men just inside the door, and I walked through, putting my grip on the last bottom bunk. I noted as I dropped my bag that all save the man on the bunk across from me were engaged in conversation with someone. He was the only one in the room appearing to be holding himself in reserve insofar as mixing with the others. He stood and looked at me as I turned and held out my hand in greeting.

“Max Espan.”

“Tony Webber. Nice to meet you.” He was a polite young man, around 30 years I would think, a bit effeminate in facial appearance but with a firm grip. His voice was soft and low and his body that of an athlete. For some reason, it occurred to me that possibly, he was of the Greek persuasion. In my time that would not have been disadvantageous for a man. Today, it seems the majority of men not of that bent look down on those who are, though why I cannot understand. He appeared quite fit; that would put him in good stead with the physical training aspect of the weekend. Terry and Dino arrived and tossed their bags on the remaining bunks. Young Tony looked at them.

“Are the three of you together?” My colleagues exchanged a look, and Terry spoke.

“Yeah, Mate, we own a business together.”

“Really? You’re Australian, aren’t you? And you’re British.” That last was addressed to me. Dino looked at him.

“Looks like you and I are the only native speakers here, Buddy. Dino O’Reilly.” He extended his hand, as did Terry.

“Terry Thorne.”

“Tony Webber. It’s nice to meet you guys. What sort of business do you have?”

“Risk management.”

“I see. Do you have an in-house advertising agency, or do you contract that out? I’m in advertising …have my own firm in Boston.”

Terry spoke again. “Most of our business comes through networking and referrals.” Our conversation was cut short by the entry of what I surmised was a member of the staff.

“Gentlemen, may I have your attention?” He was a tall fellow, at least 6’3”, possibly taller, and I approximated his weight at 250 pounds. Muscular and well toned. Clearly, he worked out on a daily basis. His hair was trimmed quite short, in a military fashion. “If you will follow me to the mess hall, check-in is at 2000 hours. Following that, a late dinner will be served, and there will be time to get acquainted with your peers prior to lights out at 2200.” My partners and I smiled at each other. This man was clearly formerly military. The branch of service was irrelevant; we now knew what to anticipate.

TERRY

Well, well, well. A jarhead, like Dino; I’d bet my last quid on that. We fell in and followed him out the door across the compound to the mess hall. Dinner was institutional, but nonetheless well prepared and certainly filling. Beef tips on rice, broccoli, a salad and rolls. If I was already missing Diana’s flair in the kitchen, what must Max be thinking? I was regretting having gigged him about taking all his meals and drink in the country as I had been doing the same for the last two weeks and was getting spoilt. I looked around the long table at those we would be passing the weekend with, assessing as I went.

Tony, the bloke in the bunk next to Max. Nice enough, appeared fit, as if he worked out or ran on a regular basis; might be a poofta as that isn’t uncommon in men in advertising, but if he was, it didn’t jump right out at you, and I didn’t give a toss either way. On Tony’s far side was a 30-ish chap, a bit overweight, with a down-turned mouth, as if nothing pleased him. An older chap a bit further down, possibly late 50s. Seemed interested in his surroundings and was relatively fit. He might hold up in the physical training part of the weekend’s therapy session that was mentioned in the brochure. Time would tell. A couple of blokes I reckoned would be lost tomorrow morning after their showers when there was no one to style their now perfectly coiffed hair. I glanced at their hands – manicured nails, complete with clear varnish. Whilst they were younger than Dino, Max, and me, I rather doubted they had half the stamina we did. All save the three of us seemed to be trying to establish bonds with some of the others by complaining about the physical component of the weekend, the only exception being young Tony. He looked across the table at me then addressed the three of us.

“You guys run?” Max and I nodded. Dino answered.

“Every fucking day, five miles. Can’t let Mother Nature get a head start on you because she’s the Queen Bitch once she does.” We all laughed at that, as it was true enough. Young Tony joined us and continued.

“I’ve been to a couple of these things in the past. They’ll have everyone out of the rack by five-thirty in the morning and out for a five mile walk/jog/run routine as a bonding exercise. I run every day - usually five miles through the Commons - and am frankly not interested in slowing my pace to keep up with the geezers. You guys interested in getting up a bit earlier and joining me in a good run before we’re forced into the superficial male-bonding thing?” Dino answered again, for all of us.

“Abso-fucking-lutely. Think you can keep up?” Tony grinned at that one.

“Think you can?”

We did the get-acquainted routine, and I took a quick walk round the camp before lights out. It always pays to know where to put the helo down. Max was in his bunk when I returned and reading a book …Looking at Lovemaking: Constructions of Sexuality in Roman Art 100 B.C. – A.D. 250. He looked over it at me as I leant against the bunk.

“Checking your technique, Mate?” He snorted.

“Reagan seems well enough pleased; however, this tome is an exploration of the differences in attitudes of sexuality and how it is perceived then and today as much as it is about the artwork.” Tony came back from the direction of the head and sat on his bunk, taking a look at the book’s cover and chimed in.

“I have that one in my library at home. Interesting book. Have to give it to the old Romans …they had no concept of homosexuality and, as such, didn’t hold homosexuals in disdain as we do today.” I could see the interest spark in Max’s eyes before he opened his mouth …someone he could be scholarly with.

“Quite right. Sex was sex and its expression – in whatever form – not frowned upon. To the Romans, sex was a natural and normal function in the same category as shitting or pissing. The only proscription was that in male-to-male lovemaking, the recipient – the passive partner – not be of equal status to the penetrative partner. Perhaps I should elaborate. A male Roman citizen could penetrate one of his male slaves, as the slave had diminished social status. He could not penetrate a man of equal status – another adult male citizen – without risking the status of the receptive partner. An adult male Roman citizen could penetrate of boy of his class prior to the boy’s attaining manhood, at about age 14. Beyond that age for the young male would result in loss of status for him, should the activity become publically known. That is not to say that such activity did not happen; it did, and often, and was particularly common in all male environments …such as the Army, but no one spoke of it. There was, however, no shame attached to the various forms of sexual expression. Perhaps if that attitude were more prevalent today, there would be less true perversion in the form of abuse than we now see.” Well. That was something I’d not heard Max expound on previously, and believe me, I’ve heard him hold forth on quite a few topics in the past three plus years. His comment about the Army got my attention …had Max experienced that as a very young adolescent? I would just about bet he had, and it obviously bothered him not in the least. Tony nodded.

“I have to agree. You a classicist, Max?” I wondered how he was going to answer that one but needn’t have worried.

“My fiancé is a professor. Roman history and culture is but one of her many interests. She suggested I read this, as she felt I would enjoy it.” I’ll just bet she did. Dino strolled up and looked at the cover.

“Any dirty pictures in there, Max?” Max grinned, put his bookmark in place, and handed the book to Dino.

“See for yourself, though I doubt you will find the plates to your liking. I believe Hustler is more to your taste.” He’s definitely getting the hang of the 21^st century slag off, and I laughed with the three of them before putting in my own two two-cents worth to Max.

“Just don’t get carried away, Mate. You won’t be seeing Reags until late Sunday.”

TONY

I didn’t set my alarm because I get up at four-thirty almost every day, and with the change in time zones, I could let my internal clock do the work and still be early. Even so, when my eyes snapped open, Max was already sitting on the side of his bunk, pulling on his running shoes. Terry and Dino were nowhere in sight, and I realized that if I was going running with them, I’d better move my ass. I grabbed my shorts and top from the bottom of my bunk and looked at Max as I stood.

“Gotta piss before I run. You guys wait for me?” He nodded and stood as I walked away. I was back in less than two minutes and pulled on socks and shoes just as Terry and Dino walked up. We were the only ones awake, and from the smell of tobacco, I figured they’d been outside for a pre-run smoke. Dino spoke.

“You ladies ready to roll?” We nodded and left the cabin quietly, then hit a jog as we headed for the road. I had arrived in mid-afternoon the day before and checked out the track/road that I’d learned we would be running. It made a five mile loop up and back the east side of the lake.

“It’s a five mile circuit. We should be able to manage that before the geezers get out here. The set up is to just get them moving in one direction. There’ll be spotters along the route for them, and anyone who craps out gets a ride back in. All of them get picked up at the end of two-and-a-half miles and brought back in the vans. We’ve got it to ourselves until six. You guys ready?” Max smiled; Dino nodded, and Terry answered.

“Lay on, MacDuff!” We took off at a slow jog, stretching out muscles until we were warmed up, and then stepped up the pace. These guys may be in their forties, but they were in good shape. We hit the two-and-a-half mile mark and turned back, making five back at the camp site. We were standing beside the road and breathing easily when the rest of the group straggled out at six.

Perhaps I should just go on and say it. I’m gay. No apologies, no regrets; it’s just a fact of my life. There have been many times that I’ve made a conscious effort to avoid men like Max, Dino, and Terry because all too often they seem think all gay males are either on the make for heteros or out to lure young boys into the lifestyle. Not true. It just doesn’t work that way. I don’t think Terry or Dino have clocked me yet, but, somehow, I think Max has. His comments last night on the book, homosexuality, and his obvious lack of concern with it almost seemed as if he was trying to let me know that he liked me as a man and didn’t care about my sexual orientation. I’d like to think that anyway. He’s the kind of man that I’d enjoy having a beer with after work if he lived in Boston.

Let me clarify this a bit. I’m not what’s referred to as ‘swish’ and never have been. I’m as much a man as any other guy with a pair swinging, and I’ll turn and look at a good looking woman’s ass or tits as fast as any other man. I like women …I’m just not interested in taking them to bed. I like American football and rugby and was on the rugby team in high school and college. I was too small to turn pro, or I might have done that instead of going into advertising. Yeah, I know most American public schools don’t have rugby teams, but a lot of the private ones do. I’m a product of private schools. I was in ROTC in college but didn’t make the cut for active duty; I have flat feet and a punctured ear drum, so there you go. I don’t cruise gay bars and never have. That scene doesn’t appeal to me. I have a partner, and we’ve been together for almost eight years. Unless you’re a fucking idiot, monogamy – irrespective of your sexual orientation – is the only smart way to go these days.

These guys – Max, Terry, and Dino – were about as heterosexual as you’d find but I felt comfortable with them and really didn’t think they’d give a flying fuck if they did know my sexual orientation. Men who are comfortable and secure in their own sexuality are rarely homophobic. When I arrived yesterday, I’d assessed the other men here and pretty well written them off as weekend buddies. Too unsure of themselves, and I’d spotted a couple of true homophobes that I knew I’d give a wide berth. I got lucky when these three checked in. At least I’d have someone to hang with and talk to until I left at noon on Sunday. Before we left, I’d give each of them my card and tell them to call if they got to Boston. It would be my pleasure to buy them a beer.

MAXIMUS

We did our five miles and were lounging under the trees when the remaining six of our weekend companions arrived with the trainers for the official run. Whilst awaiting them, Dino had asked if Tony was familiar with cadence calls, and the young man laughed before answering.

“You asking if I know Jody Cadence?” Both Terry and Dino had smiled; I alone had no notion of what they meant, but as I learn quickly, I was not concerned. I did know what cadence meant. Dino nodded and answered with a rather lascivious grin.

“I’m a jarhead, buddy. I prefer Honey Cadence, but for the sake of these pussies (he gestured to those approaching us), we’ll do Jody.”

Terry snorted and added his own comment. “When the rest of the lot get here and we start, Dino, you call it, and we’ll respond.” My 21^st century education was about to be expanded. First, however, as a group we required instruction by the man I had noted the preceding evening. Dino leant over to comment in my ear as he approached.

“That bastard reminds me of my DI at Camp Lejeune. That son-of-bitch could chew up 120 mm rounds and spit out shrapnel.” In sizing up the man, he reminded me of the troop commander I had managed to survive in my first months in the Army. Times, uniforms, and battle plans may change, but the mould of such a man is timeless. He took a position in front of us, legs spread in parade rest, hands clasped behind his back and surveyed us much as any commanding officer I had ever known …and much as I had done as a commanding general. His voice was strong and clear; his troops would have had no difficulty in hearing him, even at distance.

“Gentlemen! My name is George Skipper, Gunnery Sergeant, United States Marine Corps, Retired. You may address me as Gunny. Good morning!” Was it only my imagination that told me that Dino, Terry, and I snapped to in response to our years of military service and training, or did I imagine it? No …I did not imagine that. I felt my body come to rigid attention, and when Gunnery Sergeant Skipper looked at the opposite end of our line, I stole quick glances to my left and right. Terry and Dino were at ramrod attention as well. Old habits do, indeed, die hard. I directed my eyes forward as the Sergeant strode down the line, stopping in front of each man and making a comment before proceeding to the next. Whilst I could not see it to be certain, I was sure that each man stood a bit taller and straighter when addressed by the Sergeant. Tony was on Terry’s far side, thus I could not see him, but the Sergeant appeared pleased with his demeanour. He spoke to all of us once more.

“If I ask your name, you will give me only your first name in order to preserve your privacy. You will exchange personal information this weekend, and unless you elect to pass along more detailed information to another man, your anonymity will be respected. Is that understood?” Tony’s experience with ROTC whilst in school was apparent as aside from him, only Terry, Dino, and I responded as would those with military background.

“Yes, Gunnery Sergeant.” I would imagine the fact that the four of us were next to each other made our responses particularly obvious. Gunnery Sergeant Skipper moved to Dino, who was beside me and at the end of the line.

“Name, rank, and affiliation.”

“Dino, Captain, United States Marine Corps, Honourably Discharged, Gunnery Sergeant Skipper.” Dino was at ramrod straight attention. The Sergeant moved to me.

“Max, Colonel, Spanish Army, Unidad de Opraciones Especiales, Honourably Discharged, Gunnery Sergeant Skipper.” He nodded and moved to Terry.

“Terrence, Major, Special Air Services, United Kingdom and Australia, Honourably Discharged, Gunnery Sergeant Skipper.” He nodded again and stopped in front of Tony.

“Tony, Major, ROTC, The Citadel, Gunnery Sergeant Skipper.” The Gunny permitted himself a small smile and continued down the line before returning to stand before the group.

“At ease.” The four of us relaxed into parade rest as the others slumped and let out their pent up breath, allowing their bellies to expand and fall over their shorts. Gunnery Sergeant Skipper walked back and forth in front of us, and I was again reminded of my youth.

“With a few notable exceptions, you are one sorry bunch of pussies. I’ve known adolescent girls who could stand straighter and answer with more intelligence than you pitiful excuses for men.” I bit my lip to avoid smiling and could see Terry do the same. Dino’s shoulders shook with suppressed mirth. The Gunny came and stood in front of the four of us at the end of the line.

“Captain, Major, Colonel, Major, front and center, on the double!” We double-timed to stand in front of him.

“About face!” We complied. He paced between the four of us and the remaining six, shaking his head in a manner designed to express both his respect and his disgust as he turned to face our fellows.

“What I have behind me are men who have served their countries well and faithfully and been acknowledged for their efforts by advancement in rank and subsequent honourable discharge. They are to be respected by the rest of you scum-sucking lowlife bastards because you owe your soft bellies and lily-white hands to the sweat of their brows and their spilled blood. They have made it possible for you to live in peace and luxury in the Land of the Free and the Brave. Take a look at them, ladies, and admit that you don’t have the guts to do what they have.” He looked them up and down, and at this point, all our fortitude was brought to bear in not showing our combined mirth. “I SAID ADMIT THAT YOU DON’T HAVE THE GUTS TO DO WHAT THESE MEN HAVE!” What ensued was a confused babble of thanks and apologies from the rest of our number. The Sergeant shook his head and looked at them before turning back to us.

“You men set the pace for the run. I’ll call cadence.” He turned back to the others. “Fall in behind these men and keep-the-fuck up. Slackers will be shot at dawn. MOVE OUT!” I suspect they believed his comment regarding sunrise.

He moved ahead and to our right, singing out the chant as we fell in behind him.

“You had a good home but you left.

You're Right!

You had a good home but you left,

You're Right!

Jody was there when you left,

You’re Right!

Jody was there when you left

You're Right

One, two, three, four,
One, two, …Three Four!”

“You left your girl and Jody in bed,
You'd rather be there, but you're here instead.”

“Sound Off! (1 – 2)
Sound Off ! (3 – 4)
Cadence count, (1-2-3-4) (1 – 2, ----- 3 – 4 !)”

“Ain't no use in callin' home,
Jody's got your telephone.”

“Sound Off! (1 – 2)
Sound Off ! (3 – 4)
Cadence count, (1-2-3-4) (1 – 2, ----- 3 – 4 !)”

“Ain't no use in goin' home

Jody's got your girl and gone.”

“Sound Off! (1 – 2)
Sound Off ! (3 – 4)
Cadence count, (1-2-3-4) (1 – 2, ----- 3 – 4 !)”

“Ain’t no use in lookin' back,
Jody's got your Cadillac! “

“Sound Off! (1 – 2)
Sound Off ! (3 – 4)
Cadence count, (1-2-3-4) (1 – 2, ----- 3 – 4 !)”

“I'm gonna take a three day pass,
Can't wait to get Jody in my grasp.”

“Sound Off! (1 – 2)
Sound Off ! (3 – 4)
Cadence count, (1-2-3-4) (1 – 2, ----- 3 – 4 !)”

And when I get that three-day pass,
I'm gonna kick old Jody's ass.

Sound Off ! (1- -2)
Sound Off! (3---4)
Break it down, (1,2,3,4) (1—2 ------3—4!!)

I wish I could say that when we moved out our faces were sombre but to do so would be to lie. It is fortunate that our military training took command of us, else we, too, would have been included in the number threatened with death at sunrise.

TERRY

It had been a long damned time since I’d run to cadence, and it felt good. Max picked up the call quickly, as I’d known he would. The four of us ran with grins on our faces; we were already warmed up from our earlier five miles, and this run would be a piece of piss. I glanced back once and mentally shook my head. The poor bastards behind us were struggling to breathe, and keeping up was a lost cause.

“COLUMN HALT!” Gunny doubled back to wait for the stragglers as they stumbled up to meet us and leant over, panting and heaving for breath. The four of us ran in place whilst Gunny chewed their arses for five, then started again.

“FALL IN …MOVE OUT!” Off we went. Less than half a mile up the road we came to the first rescue van; two of the six behind us staggered over to it and crawled inside. The vehicle took off for the barracks, and I suspected the two who had fallen out would spend half an hour breathing hard before they had the energy to stand up long enough to shower. A second van was waiting when we got to the turnaround point, and Gunny let the last four sad sisters climb in and head back to camp. He didn’t even ask if we wanted a ride – we didn’t, and he knew it – but turned and shouted “CALL IT” to Dino. Of course, he went right into Honey, and the rest of us had trouble laughing and running at the same time because of the look on Max’s face. Max has become the quintessential Pom …he may do it, but he doesn’t talk much about it.

On reaching the barracks, we sprinted into the showers and sluiced off before applying the soap. Ten minutes later, we were headed to the mess hall and met up with the rest of the crew. Partially eaten plates of food were in front of them; I suspect they were too tired and still too winded to expend the energy required to eat. We hit the chow line, and Gunny accompanied us to the table. Dino spoke first.

“So, Gunny, who’s the main facilitator around here? Who’s leading the get-in-touch-with-your-feelings sessions?” Gunny smiled and chewed on his ham and eggs for a tic before answering.

“That would be me, Marine.” For some reason, that didn’t surprise me …didn’t seem to surprise Max either, but it knocked Dino for six. I’ll give him this much; he has a quick recovery.

“I see. Well, then, what got you from Gunnery Sergeant to shrink?” Gunny laughed and gave the answer that I imagine many men have given when asked a similar question.

“My wife.” Maximus smiled. “When I got back after Desert Storm my head was really fucked up. Got home and couldn’t fit in any more. Did the job because I’m a Marine and that’s what we do, but I was a total bust on the home front. Other than laying pipe on a regular basis, I couldn’t participate in our marriage, and the kids were scared shitless of my temper. I came home one day, and there was a bag packed standing in the entry way. I thought she was on her way out the door, but she set me straight on that real fast. Said I was leaving until I got my head out of my ass and stopped verbally and emotionally abusing her and the kids. She had a list of therapists – told me I could pick any one I wanted – but I wasn’t to show my face again until I’d been in therapy for at least six weeks and could document that with a phone call and a letter from the shrink. I did what any red-blooded man would …got down on my knees and begged her to give me another chance. She said she would, but the aforementioned conditions still applied. I saw the shrink for the first time the next day after work.”

He drained his coffee cup and went back for a refill, ate a bit more of his meal, and resumed talking. It wasn’t until later I realised his comments had been a considered and deliberate disclosure, the wedge that helped start me opening up later in the day.

“I spent six weeks in one-on-one three times a week, and then the counsellor thought I had it together enough to actually be able to participate in group, so he moved me into a group of other Desert Storm vets.” Another sip of coffee. “What I figured out was that my problems really weren’t any different from any other combat veteran. Hell, man, we’re all fucked up, and you three (nodding at the three of us) know that.” He looked at Tony. “Don’t know what kept you out of active, Son, but take my word for it …you got lucky.” Tony smiled and offered his reality.

“Punctured ear drum and flat feet. Otherwise, I’d have been in, too. I’d probably be in Iraq right now instead of having breakfast with you bastards.” We all laughed. Gunny shook his head and spoke again.

“Once I got my shit together and did a little repair work on the home front, I severed and applied for college. Got my degree in psych, then went to grad school in counselling …and you bastards get the benefit not only of my extensive experience on the battlefield and home front, but my clinical expertise as well.” We all laughed at that, but for Max and me, it was a grim laugh. Gunny looked at Max.

“What’s your story, Max? In less than a hundred words.”

“I was in the Spanish UOE, the equivalent of the SAS or your own RECON forces. My wife and son were murdered as a result of my activities. I obtained a compassionate discharge, left Spain, and subsequently joined my partners in a firm specialising in risk management. I can identify with some of your experience, though not all. Clearly, I had no wife and son awaiting me. However, I am now engaged to a woman in Dallas …a psychologist and academic.”

“Pal, you ain’t got a fucking prayer. How about you?” That was directed to me.

“SAS R, but we weren’t getting enough action at home so I went to England for that. Married the general’s daughter and left the service before we divorced. You can figure out the rest.”

“Got a woman in your life these days?”

“Only in the past few weeks.” I shot a look at Dino and caught his slight shrug and smile. Dino was next.

“Okay, Jarhead. What’s your story?”

“Never been married …thought I was close once, but it didn’t work out. Now it’s easier to pay them. No strings, and I can move on down the road with no baggage. Out of high school and into the Corps, then RECON, got my bars and got out. Hooked up with this one (he jerked a thumb at me), and then Max came along a few years back.” Gunny’s look said he knew there was more – for all of us – but he didn’t push it, at least not then. He looked at his watch.

“Well, Ladies, I’d love to continue this, but you’re scheduled for your first group, and while I’ll observe, I ain’t leading that one. I’ll see you at 1400.” We all stood to attention as he walked away.

DINO

I had no fucking clue what to expect at the first session but walked dutifully into the meeting room. If Terry and Max could do this, so could I. I’m a pretty open-minded guy, and who knows? I might actually eventually figure out why I’d never been willing to risk my heart again. That was for another time, however; this weekend was about dealing with our crossings and why it had left us so shut down.

Chairs in a circle, and the facilitator stood to meet us. Now that was a shock …a woman. Not bad looking. Black hair cut short, real tall, at least as tall as me, so she was looking the three of us pretty much dead in the eyes. White slacks and golf shirt with “The Barracks” stencilled just above her left tit. The rest of the group shuffled in behind us as she spoke.

“My name is Anna. I’m the facilitator for your morning session. Please help yourselves to coffee and pastries if you like; the table is over there.” She pointed to a table on the left wall. Most of us sat, but the few lard asses headed for the table. Well, what would you expect? “If everyone would take a seat in the circle, we can get started. I’d like to go around the circle and have everyone give their first name. If you have a nickname you prefer, you may use that. Our goal this morning is to get to know each other a bit. I’d like to start that by asking why each of you is here …what your motivation was for signing up for this encounter. Is that acceptable to everyone?” Nods, grunts, and shrugs all around, and she turned to Maximus who was sitting on her right and nodded at him to start.

“My name is Max. Whilst I am here at the request of my fiancé, it is my intention to avail myself of whatever insights may become available to me. It is her belief that issues of trust underlie many problems, and I am inclined to agree.”

“Are you always so formal, Max?” He looked at her in confusion. Guess that was the first time anyone had ever commented to his face that he sounds like he has a stick up his ass.

“I was unaware that I sounded …formal. Perhaps that is a function of English not being my native tongue.” Little Miss Anna smiled.

“Well, that’s certainly possible. Next?” We had spaced ourselves out around the circle to keep from looking like a bunch of weak sisters who needed to hold hands, so the next up was one of the fat guys.

“I’m Ben. I just recently joined my company as an Associate Director. They send all new associates to a retreat within the first six months of employment, so here I am.” He smiled nervously and looked around like he expected the rest of us to eat him for lunch.

“Very good.” She looked at the next guy.

“Elliott. Same basic story as Ben, but my group sends all the upper level management out once a year. Guess they want us to stay grounded or something, but to me, this is a load of crap.” Antagonistic and a loser. Next? Tio!

“Terry. Same story as Max, only the lady isn’t my fiancé; we’ve only been seeing each other a few weeks. I'm part of a small firm. We've been having some growing pains.” I’ll be damned. Tio is taking this seriously. Well, he and Max had a hell of a lot more to lose if they didn’t than I did, at least in terms of keeping peace on the home front. Who’s the next sacrificial lamb?

“I’m Jack. A former employee walked in with a 9 mm two months ago and killed two of our colleagues. You can imagine the result. Management is sending everyone in the division to these sessions, just not together. We’re supposed to learn to walk through our fear. I hope to God this helps because I’m afraid to walk out of my apartment in the mornings.” Not all battlefields are on the front lines.

“Tom. Wouldn’t be here if it weren’t a requirement of my job, and I don’t want to be here. You guys talk about whatever the fuck you like, but count me out.” The resident jerk has arrived.

Moving along to …uh, well, that would be me.

“Dino. Had a little upset with my partners a while back …we have what I guess you’d call basic trust issues. We’re all here to figure out what led to the misstep before our firm implodes.” Next into the pickle barrel is ….

“Robert. Same story as Elliott’s. It gets me out of the city for a weekend, and since I’ve done this before, maybe I can teach the rest of you a thing or two.” He grinned at Anna. Smartass. And the short, stocky guy on his right is?

“Fred. No comments about Fred Flintstone because I’m a long way past my college football days. Trust issue problems, but with everyone, not just my colleagues.” Tony was last up.

“Tony. I have my own firm in Boston – advertising – and it’s a cutthroat industry. I do this at least once a year and have always found it helpful. Getting out of the rat race and away from people I know for a few days helps me keep my head screwed on straight. Of course, it also makes me appreciate the Boston restaurants.” Well, there was that. Maybe if I’d had his number when I was in Boston earlier in the month, I’d have enjoyed it more. Bet he has a well-used little black book. Back to the facilitator.

“Very good. Now, the first step in a group such as this is commitment to the process. Lacking that, you accomplish nothing individually, and as a result, the group will suffer. The second issue is confidentiality. Before this weekend is over, each of you will have revealed things to at least one other individual that no one else – not even your partner – knows about you. Your privacy is critical. Therefore, all of us, me included, must commit right now to keeping whatever is said in group, in the group; the same applies to personal conversations. Any and all confidences and disclosures stay within the confines of The Barracks. This is even more critical than your commitment to the group, as without this basic trust, nothing will happen. Agreed?” There were a few mutterings and grumblings along the lines of  I’m-not-telling-shit-to-someone-I-don’t-know, but we eventually got around to the bit about yeah, I’ll keep my mouth shut. That was a lot easier for Terry, Max, and me than it was going to be for the others. Our lives depended on not divulging what we knew …and that’s part of our problem. We’ve been so used to shutting out the rest of the world, that we’ve started shutting each other out. Anna smiled.

“Good. Well, as trust was mentioned by several of you, let’s start with that issue. We’re going to open this with a warm-up exercise …a game, if you prefer to call it that. I’m going to pass out paper and pencils and we’ll get started.” Well, isn’t that special. Glad I didn’t say that out loud, because what she said next took the wind out of my sails.

ANNA

I know I volunteered for this gig, but looking at some of the men sitting around me made me wonder if I was in over my head. Realistically, I knew I wasn’t, but people like Elliott and Tom always made the process more difficult than it needs to be. At least the majority of the group seemed willing to meet me halfway. It was unusual to have three men from the same firm in the same group, but the arrangements had been made by a psychologist, and I had to trust that she knew what she was doing. I had Max and Terry pegged for leading the charge, and Dino and Tony seemed in as well. What Jack had volunteered thus far made me feel that he would grasp at anything in order to conquer his all-consuming fear; Fred and Ben seemed willing to do the work if for no other reason than that this was a new experience. Robert was the smart ass, and at some point over the weekend, either George or I would have to rein him in hard. I smiled to myself …I’d let George do the honors.

“This is an ice-breaker and allows us to get to know a bit about each other and our public facades – I’ll be participating, too – so here’s the drill. Put your first name at the top of the page, and then I want each of you to write down two truths and one lie about yourself. These statements can be things that frighten you, things that you have experienced, things you want, facts or information about your family, whatever comes to mind. The only requirement is that two of the statements be absolutely true and one false. When we’re done writing, I’m going to collect the papers, shuffle them, and then hand them out. If you get your own paper back, hand it to another member of the group. We’ll read the statements given to us and ask the writer questions. The task is to figure out which of the three statements is the lie; if you wish to attempt to make the others believe your lie, that is acceptable.” I gave them ten minutes to think and write and then collected the papers.

MAXIMUS

Truth versus lies. Trust versus mistrust. Life versus death. Reality versus fantasy. Even now, there are occasions on which I wonder if I know the differences in those concepts. I had been true to myself in refusing to take Commodus’ hand; the result was my death in that life. In my youth, I had trusted Quintus; ultimately, he betrayed me, and my family paid the ultimate price. I had lived 2000 years in the past as I live today. Reality or fantasy …or both? Do I trust that I live today, as I had in the past or was I holding my breath, anticipating that the gods would rip away what I had built with Cassandra, as they had my life with Ileana and my son? I remembered Cassandra’s having told Terry that if we built our lives on what is strictly known to us, on that which is assured, that we would accomplish nothing. If I truly believe that – and I do – then perhaps I do trust my crossing to be real. Perhaps I have come to trust this reality. I am building a life on my love for Cassandra and our future as man and wife. We have spoken of starting a family; that requires trust that life is real. I would not bring a child into a world I thought could vanish at the snap of my fingers. I turned my thoughts to what truths I might reasonably write, and what lie.

The first statement was the lie, though I suspect most would think it the last. In truth, I speak seven languages fluently …Latin, German, English, Spanish, Italian, French, and Arabic. I looked at Terry and Dino, wondering what they would write.

DINO

Fuck! I looked at Terry and Max, wondering what the fuck they would come up with that wouldn’t tip their – our – hands. If I’d been a kid back in school, I’d have been chewing the eraser off the end of my pencil. Well, I did have one iron-clad rule, and that would do for a start.

Okay, two down, one to go. Now what? Trying to come up with this shit would be hard enough if I didn’t have a past to hide. Trying to dance around that little fact of life was a bitch. Well, hell, if Max and Terry could do it, I fucking could.

Now THAT is my idea of a power trip, boys and girls. Okay, what’s the lie that sounds true?

Yeah. At my age, that will fly. Max had folded his paper in half and was watching everyone else sweat. Terry was in the still-sweating group. He finally finished and folded his paper, looking around as he did. A couple of the guys were still working. It might be a while before we got to the fun part of this little game, so I stood and walked over to the table where the coffee maker and food were. I grabbed a cup and a couple of donuts. As Tio is so fond of saying, soldiers always eat when food’s available because we never know when we’ll get another chance. One covered in chocolate frosting and one of those with stuff in the middle …this one looked it might have cherry filling. Hey, at my age, you take your cherries where you find them.

TERRY
Three statements, two true, one not. Okey, dokey, let’s do this; the lie first.
Two more statements, and both of these had to be true.

I wonder if Max or Dino had tossed in anything about the firm. One of us should, because that’s the symptom we can talk about. From the little chat we’d had on the ride down here, all of us had come to the reality that moving from celluloid to flesh-and-blood was harder on us than we chose to admit. We’ve never fucking stopped long enough to deal with it. We were going to have to deal with the partnership aspect in lieu of talking about the actual problem.

Diana also hadn’t crept in on this initial exercise. She hadn’t wanted to be a topic on my mind for this weekend; she was far more concerned with saving the firm. She had a much better grasp on how businesses function than Miranda ever did. Miranda’s a saleswoman. Get the business in and make the profit. Diana understands that it’s the people in the business that make it successful. I think she would have flayed the three of us alive if she had been a partner and had realised how closed off and emotionally shut down we truly were. Whilst she’s into the touchy-feely bit, she approaches it from a totally pragmatic perspective. You want the business to be a success? Then you have to be open and honest with your partners, else that loud sucking noise you hear is your firm going down the drain.

Diana has a unique view of our industry. We’re paramilitary with a business to run. She started out in corporate America and slid into situation rooms. I suppose it isn’t unexpected that Max and I have found ourselves attracted to women of Diana’s and Reags’ backgrounds. Part of the problem in my marriage was that whilst the ex grew up in a soldier’s home, she really had no notion of what my life was like. Diana and Reags both knew and understood our world. I think that made the probabilities of making our relationships with them viable over the long haul. Long haul …I said long haul in the same thought with Diana. That would scare her pissless. For her telling me not to make her the focus this weekend, she certainly is on my mind a lot.

ANNA

“Everyone done?” Nods all around. “Alright, I’ll pick up your papers and then redistribute them.” I collected them and added mine to the stack. I’d have to be sure that I didn’t give Max, Terry, or Dino each others’ slips, as that would be a bit too convenient. I looked down at my own paper before standing to collect theirs.

I moved around the group collecting the papers, sat, and shuffled them. I pulled Max’s paper for myself, as that made it easier to distribute Terry’s and Dino’s. Ben gets Dino, Elliott gets Terry, Terry gets Tom, Jack gets Tony, Tony gets Elliott, Fred gets mine, and Tony gets Elliott. I would start and model the behaviour for the rest of the group.

“I have Max’s paper, so I’ll start. That will give you an idea of how this works. I’m going to read his statements. While I do that, I want you to watch him carefully and see if you can spot anything in his behaviour that tells you which of his statements is the lie. Once I’ve read his statements and you’ve all had time to think about it, raise your hands to ask him questions, and I’ll call on you. Everyone got that? Okay.” I read the statements, all of which were believable at one level or another. Jack raised his hand first.

“Max, where did you learn to speak seven languages?” Max smiled.

“Being European born – I am Spanish - I learnt other languages as a matter of course. My father was a soldier and – by necessity - spoke English, so I learnt that as a child. Italian was easy as it is similar in many ways to Spanish. I was required to study both Latin and German at school. Travelling in Europe facilitated my learning French. When I joined the Army, I was considered suitable for service in the Middle East as a function of my swarthy appearance and ease with multiple languages, thus the military language instructors taught me Arabic.” If that was a lie, he’d sure as Hell thought out his response. Elliott chose to challenge Max.

“That’s bullshit. No one speaks seven languages, much less fluently.” Max smiled before answering. I had the feeling that smile could be as deadly as a cobra’s bite.

“Do you wish a demonstration? Adliger ist Mann, nützlich und gut! Für den stellt ihn alleine abgesehen von jedem anderen Geschöpf auf Masse ein. Shall I translate it for you?” Although Max had been nice to this point, I sensed that with Elliott’s simmering antipathy, this could get ugly. Time for me to step in.

“I speak German, Elliott. That was a quote from Goethe’s Faust. Noble be man, helpful and good! For that alone sets him apart from every other creature on earth. I think we can accept that this is one of Max’s true statements. Am I correct, Max?” His nod assured me of that fact. “Next challenge.” It came from Tony.

“Was your first sexual encounter really at 13? Even for a macho guy like you, that seems a bit young …particularly from a man with what I suspect was a rather strict background, given that your dad was a soldier.”

“Soldiers’ sons are much the same as daughters of the clergy.” Everyone laughed at that, myself included. Non-responsive and a good diversionary tactic.

“You didn’t answer the question, Max.” That from Robert.

“My first sexual encounter was with my right hand …at the age of six. Sadly, my first encounter with a woman was not until the age of 15.” I’m not sure who laughed harder, me or the men in the group. Much more along these lines, and I’d have to ask permission to go to the ladies’ room because if I laugh very much, I also have to pee frequently. Fred, the curious one asked about the second truth.

“What are Andalusians, Max? I’ve never heard of them.” Apparently the memory was a good one, as Max smiled again.

“My family is very old. My ancestors bred the forebears of the breed as cavalry mounts for the Roman Army. The tradition was passed down through the generations to the present day. Whilst today breeding and training them is an avocation, there was a time when I did it each day.”

"Who wants to go next?" Ben raised his hand. Apprehensive though he might be, he was trying to work with me.

“I have Dino’s page. Dino, why would you want to be a Drill Instructor with the Marines?” Dino laughed aloud before answering.

“Hey, man, I’m an ex-jarhead. Being a DI – and 95% of them are Gunnery Sergeants – is the ultimate power trip. Gives you a chance to get a little bit of your own back.”

“So it’s true?”

“So help me, God. If I weren’t so fucking old, I’d consider reenlistment and go for it.”

“You really expect us to believe you’ve never screwed around with a woman you work with? Like that would happen. The women we work with are easy pickings.” That from Tom. Dino cocked his head to one side before answering.

“Easy pickings is part of the problem, Buddy. There’s no challenge there, and the challenge is half the fun. The main reason I don’t do it is that from what I’ve observed, the fucking you get ain’t worth the fucking you get.” Made sense to me. I’d never sleep with a man I worked with and for those same basic reasons.

“I think we can accept that as one of Dino’s truths.” Fred looked at Dino.

“So you’re not divorced?”

“Hard to be divorced if you’ve never been married. Never found a woman willing to put up with me over the long term.” We moved around the circle randomly, analyzing and interpreting each other’s truths and lies, with several of the group commenting on what good liars some of their fellows appeared to be. Max raised his hand, asking permission to go next.

“I have Anna’s statements.” He read them aloud. Jack raised his hand, and I nodded at him.

“Excuse my ignorance, but what is high altitude rappelling? Sounds like jumping out of an airplane.”

“It can be done that way, but my preference is down the side of a rock face. There’s nothing like it.” Terry looked at Jack.

“Mate, you’re thinking about HALO …High Altitude Low Opening. That’s a speciality of SAS, RECON, and Airborne Rangers.” Jack seemed pleased to have been acknowledged by Terry and in so friendly a manner. I got the feeling that Terry would be nice to everyone, attempting to put them at ease, unless the situation demanded otherwise. I wondered what his occupation was; thus far, neither he, Dino, nor Max had offered that information, and I had the feeling they wouldn’t. Jack looked happy and continued.

“Wow! So you really do that?”

“I really do that, though not as often as I’d like. My day job keeps me pretty close to home most of the time.”

“I never learned to play Canasta. What’s that like?”

“Boring as Hell to a Contract Bridge player.”

“So you don’t play Canasta?”

“Not if I can avoid it.” Everyone laughed. Ben looked stunned.

“You mean you ARE an introvert?” I nodded.

“Yes, I am. That’s not uncommon for counsellors or therapists. Many of us initially go into the profession seeking help for our own insecurities, and then realize we can help others with what we’ve learned. Working through that personality trait and turning its negatives to positives gives us a lot of insight as to how others feel.” I looked around the group.

“So, who’s next?” Elliott didn’t bother to raise his hand.

“I’m next.” Sorry, Elliot, not going to break the rules.

“You need to raise your hand and ask the group’s permission, Elliott.” That got me a fuck-you look, but he complied.

“I’d like to challenge Terry.” Challenge. Terry had been leaning with his elbows on his knees, looking at the floor, but at the tone in Elliott’s voice, his head snapped up.

“Go, Mate.”

“So what kind of apron do you wear when you cook? One of those little frilly things?”

“Actually, it’s pink lace, and on occasion, it tents up in front. My lady friend seems to fancy it. Next question?” Terry looked around the group, but Elliott wouldn’t let that one go yet.

“You really do cook?”

“I’d venture most men who’ve ever lived alone likely do. And yes, I do. Enjoy it quite a bit, as a matter of fact. Following a cookery book is like reading an engineering schematic.” He looked at Tony, who obligingly raised his hand.

“I’d like to ask a question.” Terry nodded.

“Tell me about Northern Ireland.”

“Colder than a witch’s tit, Mate, but not as bad as the Falklands.”

“You were in the Falklands, too?”

“Only the Falklands. Never served in Ireland …visited there but didn’t serve.”

“I would have thought everyone in the SAS served in Ireland.”

“Most did. I got lucky. You weren’t as likely to be killed by a sniper in the Falklands by the time I got there. They’d have had to be able to shoot across the Straights.” I looked at my watch.

“Okay. We’ve done a great job so far. Let’s take a 15-minute break and then get back to it.”

DIANA

We have beer. We have pizza. We have nachos and Margaritas. We have nail polish. What else could we possibly want? Reags was bringing the DVD of Notting Hill. What a girls’ weekend in we have planned. Happy hour starts when Reags is done with her classes and gets here in about half an hour. This would be the first time the two of us had really had a chance to talk since the night of the opera, and we had a lot of catching up to do. She walked in the door and dropped her go-bag. I handed her an open beer, and we touched cans.

“Cheers!” She almost choked on her beer.

“Good Christ! It’s only been what ...three weeks? ...and you’re already starting to sound like him!” We flopped onto the sofa. “Now, am I supposed to just sit here while you tell me everything that’s happened in the last three weeks, or do I have to pry it out of you?”

“First things first. Maximus was supposed to call and let you know they got there. Did he?”

“He did, and they did, safely. We talked for two minutes, at which point he said they had to surrender their cell phones. From that point until the retreat ends, all calls go through the office to ensure they’re sufficiently important to warrant interruption of the process. Now, back to business …tell me or I start asking really intrusive questions!”

“Well, we’re waiting on the tests to come back, so we’re still in frangers …or rather, he’s in the frangers, and they’re in me.”

“Thanks so much for sharing that.” But, of course, she laughed as she said it. “Has he even been back to his apartment yet?”

“Do you want to count that first Saturday when I got on the approved visitors’ list or since then? He must have been home at least once without my knowledge because there are suits in my closet that don’t fit me, and I have additional laundry to do. Throwing his shorts and t-shirts in with my white wash load was strange. It somehow seems more intimate than sleeping with him. Let’s see …what else? He bought me a new tea kettle. Okie now respects him. Of course Terry had to pin Okie to make that happen.”

“Wait, back up there. You’ve been to his flat?”

“Yeah. The third day - with him.”

“Wow. I’d always had the impression that no one ever saw that place. I’m impressed.”

“I've seen it. Actually, we were going to spend the night there, but neither one of us slept very well in his bed, so we moved back out here in the middle of the night. Oh, pick up your jaw.”

“So what’s the flat like?”

“The doorman let me in once I got on the approved list, and I dropped off his tux after having it cleaned. I expected it to be a pit like most bachelors’ apartments. I should have known better. It was so clean you could have eaten off the floors.”

“WHAT? The DOORMAN let you IN? Terry wasn’t there?”

“Yeah. Shocked the hell out of me, too. Now, let’s see. He’s met Nancy and Bill, and he’s met Yvette.”

“I’ll bet that was a trip.”

“I’m going to have to start running with him just to ward her off. What junk food do you want to start on first? Crisps or faux pâté?”

“Crisps? Oh, Jesus. And since when do you stock pâté, even faux?”

“Hey, show a little respect. My faux pâté is good! I pulled a trick on him the other night. I shaped my faux into an empty tin of his expensive stuff and had it turned out on the plate before he got home. Either he really couldn’t tell the difference, or he’s too much of a gentleman to say.”

“Okay, now I know the little shit. Let’s get to the good stuff …cut or uncut …?”

MAXIMUS

“Terry, has it occurred to you to wonder what Diana and Reagan are doing this weekend?” My thoughts had drifted to Cassandra.

“Mate, I don’t think we want to know. When I left, Diana was programming Domino’s Pizza into her speed dial, and the market list had nothing on it but alcohol.” Dino had one of his usual acerbic observations to make.

“You guys bring enough cash in case we need to go bail them out?” I frowned at him.

“Their plans were to stay at Diana’s for the weekend. They will not be able to get into trouble if they abide by that intention.” Gunnery Sergeant Skipper entered the room and looked about.

“Gentlemen, take your seats. You can gossip later. We have work to do.” We sat. He paced in front of us, speaking as he walked.

“This afternoon we’re going to continue with the theme of your morning session, trust. I’m not as easy going as Anna, and antagonising each other will not cut it with me. You will behave like gentlemen, and you will participate fully. Understood?” We understood.

“This is going to be painful, but by acknowledging and confronting your emotional pain, you walk through it and then rise above it.” We looked at each other. He passed out pencils and paper before he spoke again.

“I want to know the one thing from each of you that you either fear or dislike about yourself enough that you don’t want anyone else to know it. Write it down now. You have one minute.” That took the three of us aback. For the three of us, what we most feared was our reincarnation in this life, and the fear that our life as we now knew it was unstable. We could not use that issue. What we had to find within ourselves was what most distressed us since that day. What …and it struck me …what else? I put pencil to paper and wrote quickly.

GUNNERY SERGEANT SKIPPER

I watched the sweep hand on my watch.

“Stop writing. Fold your paper in half and pass it to me.” They complied, but with no small amount of reluctance on several of their faces. I shuffled the papers, then opened the one on top.

“Elliott. You’re up.” I almost felt sorry for him.

“No one understands me. I ….” I cut him off.

“That’s not what you wrote here. Tell us what you wrote.” He looked around like a scared rabbit, took a deep breath, and spoke.

“I’m a loser.”

“Why are you a loser?”

“I’m an ass. I push people away with things I say and do.”

“Why do you do that?” Working with this poor bastard was like pulling teeth. I let him think for a minute. “We’re waiting, Elliott.”

“Well, for starters, there’s my name. Try getting though school with that one. Can you think of a name that’s more of a loser?” Fred piped up.

“Fred, for starters.” I could acknowledge that.

“Go on, Elliott. What else?”

“I’m hostile.”

“Why?”

“Terry. You’re up.”

“I’m afraid to show people that I have emotions. I want to be known as the man with ice water in his veins.”

“Why?”

“Showing emotions is losing control; it shows weakness. I can’t afford to let that happen.”

“Tell me the time that you lost control and didn’t think you could get it back.” The pain was in his eyes, and it was like a dam bursting when he answered.

“When my marriage broke up, it was perfectly acceptable to get rotten, and I did. I woke up a week later, lying in my own piss and vomit. It wasn’t so much the fact that my marriage broke up, but it was that it hurt so fucking much. After that week of self-indulgent pity drowned in a vat of beer, it was time to take back control of my life. I didn’t take a drink for over six months. I’ve allowed myself that luxury only once since, and I felt like a bloody fool then. I’ve not allowed myself to do that again.”

“Why is so unacceptable to you to show your emotions?”

“It’s the weakness that can go with it. In my profession, weakness can get you killed. It can get those round you killed. Too many people depend on my ability to control my emotions and behaviours - my ability to keep a clear head - for me to ever lose control.”

“I’ve seen you display humour, Terry. That’s an emotion. Why do you not consider displaying humor a weakness?”

“Humour is a masque. I’m the man behind the masque. Humour has always got me what I wanted or needed. It’s the deeper emotions – pain, sorrow – that I don’t want to experience again.”

“You’ve just said want and earlier you said can’t …we’ll come back to that. What about love?”

He took a deep breath and then words started pouring out of him. “The last time I let myself fall in love, in the end, I found out I couldn't will a successful outcome. I could fail. I had already failed at a halfway decent marriage. I thought I understood her – I thought I could read her. I’d had no idea she felt that way until the last row we had before she tossed me out. It was the first time in my life I’d ever been not good enough.”

“What did she say, Terry?”

“She was English; you all know I’m Australian. Her father was a general, and there was more than a bit of antipathy between the two of them, as well as between her father and me. I’d always known she’d likely do anything she could think of to get back at him …it just never occurred to me I’d be the instrument she’d use.”

“What did she say?” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“The last thing she said before she walked out of the room was, ‘My little rebellion hasn’t been worth the eleven years of marriage to you. You’ve always had to prove yourself, Terrence. You didn’t have to go on this assignment. Daddy would have made sure that you were safe at home with me and Henry. Go find someone else to stick it up this time. I’m done dealing with your colonial Saviour complex.’ That added to her father’s comment about the English general’s daughter getting back at Daddy …Christ! I was the fair-haired lad, my family’s pride, excelled in everything, sports, my courses, all of it. I was top of my class at Uni. I alone was selected out of my regiment for the SAS. It had never occurred to me that I could fail at anything. It damned near destroyed me, and it’s driven me since that day. Since that time, I’ve done it all by the book because that way, I know all the rules.”

“Do you think you have enough insight now to let a little emotion into your life?”

“I don’t know how. When do you start giving us some of the skill set that will help me do that?”

“Terry, I don’t give you the skill set. I give you the foundation by getting you to open up enough in this group to acknowledge your fears. You walk the road on your own …if you have the courage to do it.” He smiled, and for the first time, it was real smile.

“Fair go, Mate. I think I can give it a run.”

“Max. What’s your greatest fear?”

“That I might be injured and unable to continue in my current employment. I am a soldier. I have been trained to fight and - if required - to kill. If I were unable to continue in the only work I know, I would be unable to support my wife …my future wife, as I am betrothed. I would be less of a man, and that would undo me.”

“Why would that emasculate you?”

“I would then be dependent on my wife. She has means, but it would be unmanly for me to accept support from her.”

“Why? It’s just money. If you aren’t willing to accept that from her, are you also unwilling to accept her emotional support?”

“That is a different issue entirely.”

“I don’t think so.” This man was mired hip deep in old world values. “In my family - in my culture - the man accepts the financial responsibility for his wife and children. That is how I was raised. I do not know how to change that.”

“Well, Max, neither do I, so why don’t we explore what else you might be able to do to support her.” He looked lost until Terry spoke up.

“It’s got to be horses, Max. You bred Andalusians, and you loved it. You could go back to that. The payout on your insurance would cover breeding stock and buying a small station in the back of Bourke. Hell, you already live in the country. Keep that place as your ‘city house,’ if you and Reags like, and build a small station house on a property large enough to run horses.” Max turned to look at him, surprise on his face.

“That had never crossed my mind. I could do that, and I would enjoy it immensely.” I looked at him.

“Does that make sense to you, Max? Can you see that your fear – like those most of us have – is less terrifying when you let it out of the closet?” He nodded, a smile moving across his face. This was a man of wholesome, simple needs, the kind that makes progress and comes to an understanding of himself and his options quickly. If there were many like him around, I’d be out of a job.

“It does. Perhaps it is good to open my doors more often. I shall work on that in the future.” Whatever his philosophy of life was, it was sure as Hell compatible with introspection.

“Dino. What’s your greatest fear?”

“For all my flippancy, I really want a good woman in my life.”

“That’s what you don’t want anyone to know. I think you need to get at what’s below that.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do …you just don’t know how to say it.” I let him stew for a minute. “Just talk to us, Dino. It worked for Terry.” He took a deep breath, looked around the room, and finally started talking.

“I don’t know how to relate to a good woman. I’ve been hanging out with strippers for almost 15 years.”

“Why do you hang out with strippers? Some of them are pretty good women …I’ve known a few.”

“Gunny, my concept of a long-term relationship is 72 hours. Longer than that, and my feet start getting itchy.”

“I can see why …after 72 hours, you have to start talking to a woman if you want her to hang around. So far, you ain’t shown me the ability to do that.”

“My most recent stab at it didn’t go too well.”

Terry sighed before he spoke. “That wasn’t your fault, Mate. That was mine.”

That got everyone’s attention, and I could see the prurient interest picking up. Rather than have this deteriorate into a National Enquirer moment, I moved them along. I looked at Dino, Terry, and Max.

“Okay. Sounds to me like you three are here because of problems in your firm, right?” Nods. “Dino, I don’t think you have much of a relationship with your colleagues …let’s leave gender out of this discussion. What else is chewing on you?”

“Being a loner. I’ve always relied on myself because I’m the only one I could always trust.” Now we’re getting somewhere.

“And …? Don’t make me prompt you again, Son.”

“Until I hooked up with Tio - Terry - I’d never met anybody who was better at what I did than me. Then Max came into the picture, and he’s just as good. First time in my life - even in the Corps - I’d known men I could totally respect.” I waited.

“If I respect them, why the hell aren’t I willing to trust them? And I don’t fucking have the answer to that right now.” I grinned at him.

“Kicking over rocks is fun, ain’t it, Son?” Dino laughed as he answered.

“Fuckin’ A!” I looked around the group. It had been a good session, and everyone had made progress. I stood up.

“Chow time. We’re usually hip deep in blood and guts on the floor by now. You guys came through pretty much unscathed. I’ll see you grunts on the parade ground at 0600.”

NOTES

Cadence Calls	Songs used to keep troops in time and step, i.e., marching/running on the same foot. A further purpose is to take their minds off the fact that they are on a 25-mile forced march or run, each individual with an 80 to 125 pound pack on his or her back. Jody Cadence http://www.immortalia.com/html/categorized-by-song/jody-cadence.htm Honey Cadence http://www.immortalia.com/html/categorized-by-song/honey-cadence.htm
DI	Drill Instructor. Title/rank of Drill Instructors varies with branch of service, e.g., U. S. Army DIs are usually Master Sergeants, whilst those in the U. S. Marine Corps are most often Gunnery Sergeants. Irrespective of official title, they are uniformly tough, battle-proven men with strong leadership abilities, tasked with turning raw recruits into men and women capable of following orders both individually and as a unit, and surviving the conflict. The United States Air Force (USAF) traditionally uses Army Sergeant Majors as their DIs, whilst the United States Navy (USN) traditionally uses USMC Gunnery Sergeants. The DI in this piece is a combination of two DIs I had the personal honour and privilege of serving with in the Middle East, Master Sergeant James Ferebee, USA (Airborne Rangers), and Gunnery Sergeant Douglas Cherry, USMC. They were outstanding examples of all that these men can and should be. I will never forget them.
USA	United States Army
USMC	United States Marine Corps
ROTC	Reserve Officer Training Corps. In this case, Army ROTC is the Service. For additional data on Army ROTC rank, see http://www.gruntsmilitary.com/arotcrank2.shtml