I said, “That one might have been Morocco or maybe Mauritania, I never really figured out which side of the border we were on.”

“I didn’t know that the USA was at war with Morocco or Mauritania.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either. They don’t tell us the big picture, just the gory details.”

“What were you doing there?”

“If I remember correctly, I was upside-down holding onto a rope in a phosphate mine and someone decided to fire a rocket-propelled grenade at me.”

“You fell?”

“I was attached to the rope. They pulled me out.”

“But what were you supposed to be doing?”

“Rescuing a bunch of French guys, as a matter of fact.”

“A real Francophile.”

“You bet.”

Then we went back into it for a couple of rounds. We ended up on her bed lying on our backs looking at the ceiling. It was a creme-colored ceiling with a red Chinese paper lantern hanging from it in the middle. I complimented her on the lamp. My fingers went into her hair and her hands went for me. We tousled around again, but by then we were lazy. I ended up on my side looking at her, my hand playing with the little curve at the small of her back. She had her head on her folded arms, contented.

Nazari said, “I checked on the vehicle registration number you gave me last night.”

I was making slow and lazy circles on her back. “The Opel Corsa.”

“That’s really nice. I like that.” She wiggled slowly. Mumbled, “Yes. Blue Opel Corsa, just as you asked.”

“What did you find?”

“It’s a rental. Pegasus Auto Leasing in Lille.”

“Where’s that exactly?”

“It’s a city up north. East of Calais, on the Belgian border.”

“Thanks for checking. I guess I could go up and find out about that in Lille. Is it far?”

“Not very far. Care to say why you wanted me to check on that registration?”

“I thought I was being followed. Couldn’t be sure.”

“Kind of paranoid are we?”

“I’m making the transition to civilian life. It requires an extensive program of mental and physical rehabilitation.” I drew a line up her body with the palm of my hand. She wiggled.

“I can help with that. We must begin with a large dose of physical therapy.” We moved together exactly enough to kiss, but no more. She broke away, about a millimeter. “You were in the army a long time ago?”

“Air Force. I just got out a week ago.”

She turned over on her back. Lay a hand on my hip. “Living the easy life now.”

“What can I say? I’m enjoying the freedom to do what I want, when I want. Can’t get enough of it.”

“Nothing to hold you down. Like in an American rock and roll song or something.”

I said, “That’s right.”