Bill chuckled and took a drink of Pepsi. “You better tread carefully, bro. If someone were to draw a diagram explaining the term ‘out of your league,’ it would be a picture of Doctor Cynthia Myers.”

Rick released a deep, annoyed sigh. “You’re not telling me something I don’t already know. Quit worrying about it.” Bill opened his mouth as if to speak again, and Rick held up a finger. “Enough.”

He’d managed to go most of the morning without thinking about the fact that he would see Cynthia again in just a few days, but Bill had brought it back to the front of his mind. He tossed down his napkin and went to rub his beard, then remembered he had shaved already. Instead, he ran the back of his hand over the stubble on his chin.

Bill dipped a french fry in some mayonnaise. “Heard from Ozzy?”

“I have.” Rick nodded. “He’ll be there in DC with us.”

“Tried to call him last night. He kept me on the phone for all of about fifteen seconds.” Bill didn’t disguise the concern in his voice.

Rick thought about the dark look in Ozzy’s eyes as the medics had loaded him onto the aircraft bound for Germany. He’d had little to say the entire time they’d been in Katangela at the embassy. Rick had sent several video recordings to encourage Ozzy and show his support, and since coming back to the States he’d called and texted, but he couldn’t get through to him.

“Everything he ever set out to achieve suddenly got ripped away,” he said. “Now he has to rediscover who he is.”

“Think he’ll go back to surgical work?”

“He had to leave it for some reason.” Even though Rick suspected why, he would never openly speculate. “Don’t know if he can go back or not. I guess we’ll see.”

They ate in silence for a couple of moments before Bill asked, “You taking leave after DC?”

“Yeah.” Rick sat back, full of good food. “Did I tell you that the new medic is from Charula?”

“Yeah, man. They know how to make them in Kentucky.”

“He was good. I’d go back into combat with him.”

“Like I said.” Bill tossed his napkin onto his empty plate and took a chug of his drink. “I gotta tell you, Rick, I never experienced the kind of fear I experienced when I got up from my hospital cot and headed into the jungle. I was sure I was going to die when we began the journey.”

Rick tried to process what his best friend meant. The fear he’d personally felt reared up inside him. He had to intentionally push it back down. “And?”