Two days later, at around 7:00 p.m. there came a light knock at my door. I was expecting no one, so as is the case whenever someone knocks at our home unscheduled, I get my nine millimeter in hand to answer. I asked who it was and got the one deep word, “Leo”! What a surprise it was to have someone from our little group drop in. I knew very little about Leo’s past and would probably never know much more, but had to try. I offered a beer; he declined, but asked if I had any iced tea. I did, and got him a large glass with plenty of sugar as he requested. He was nothing if not polite. I waited for him to get to the point, but had I not initiated the conversation, we may have been there to this day.

      I finally asked, to what purpose I owed the pleasure of his visit. Just as he was about to tell me, my room-mate came in the front door. She was about eighteen years my junior and a practicing veterinarian. She looked pretty, but pooped and frazzled, so I excused myself from Leo, welcomed her properly and introduced her to Leo. Leo looked surprised and seemed to vaguely recognize her. It was actually the first time I saw him break into a closed-lip smile, or perhaps a smile of any kind.

      I told Samantha we were talking business so she cordially removed herself to her bathroom, to remove the animal hair and grime of the day. Leo apparently forgot his mission again because he just sat there sipping his tea after I reseated. I prompted his renewed interest by asking again what the purpose of his visit was. He seemed to draw himself from a place far away and again blessed me with a slight smile. He said, “I seem to have lost my place again; sorry. It’s just that Samantha reminds me of a lady I knew in Sarajevo. No big deal (I knew it was). I came over to bring you this.” As he finished speaking he handed me a heavy little white, transparent tube, obviously the type coins come in. Upon opening, I counted fifteen, one ounce gold Dutch ten guilders, all with King Willem’s profile. I had never held that much gold at one time. Although only fifteen ounces, it felt like twenty pounds.

      I asked why he was giving them to me. He said in more words than I ever heard from him at one time; essentially he found them in Bosnia, and wished to finally put some to good use. I promised to use them only as we needed to buy equipment. He inferred that I did not need to be frugal. I wondered how many more Leo had put away; I couldn’t help it.

      After he left and I secured the gold and pistol in a safe place, Samantha came from the bedroom combing her damp hair, smelling delicious and wearing nothing but one of my old holey Special Forces T-shirts. I related as much about his visit as I dared, while helping her prepare an evening meal of upscale TV dinners; still TV dinners. She was a hard working lady and was not getting paid nearly enough to compensate for her extensive education, profound knowledge and the stress her job produced. Among the many intimate things we shared and discussed often, were our concerns for animals, both in the harsh and cruel wild world and in the supposedly civilized one. As I watched her sleep later that night, I hatched a plan for her involvement in our illicit endeavor.

      * * *

      Samantha Doherty was a graduate of North Carolina State Veterinary School. She started late in life and was hampered by a jealous spouse who, according to her, hindered her at every turn. He wanted children immediately, but waited until she went through the exhaustive Veterinary School application process and was accepted, before telling her that. Of course she wanted to wait until she finished vet school, but the jealous bastard interrupted her study one night before a final exam, and tried to force her into sex.

      By that time she’d had enough, and left him to live in a friend’s bedroom. He accused her of being a lesbian and filed for divorce. Her grades suffered, as did her reputation. However, she survived both and ended up with a B-average, which suited her fine. Being desperate and scared after graduation like many students are, she took the first good job offer from a corporate veterinary firm. She regretted the decision almost from the start, but had to stick it out for a year. She took a job with another corporate firm in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and transferred to Phoenix two years later. We met in a bar.

      No apologies! I was drinking; she was seeking solace ... from the sun. It was after her transfer to Phoenix and she simply escaped the blasting heat on Central Avenue by entering a cool bar. What’s the harm in that? I was attempting to drink enough to justify having left a needy bitch in Mesa the previous month, and was killing time waiting for my nephew to land at Sky Harbor Airport and call me for a quick pick up. Yeah, I know; possible DUI, but I didn’t inform you, I only drink an occasional beer. I drank my last hard liquor in Vietnam, just before a night attack.

      I was drinking coke on that evening and I thank God often for that. I’m also glad my ignorant nephew missed his plane in Seattle and his job interview the next day; very pleased there was only one stool left in the bar and it was next to mine. Had Samantha not ordered a Singapore Sling and later made a comment about my choice of bar drinks, who knows where we would have ended up … separately.

      I saw her judge my greying hair a couple of times, but I think it got darker after her second cold, slushy Singapore Sling. She giggled a bit after she asked how old I was and I was dumb enough to be truthful. When she chided me about drinking coke and I cautioned her about having a third drink, she gave me a serious sideways look and asked why I would be concerned. When I told her about the hangover effects of gin and its reputation about making pretty women easy, she said, “Then why wouldn’t you want me to have another”?

      Dumb ass that I am, I said, “Well, you are quite the beauty, obviously in the medical field, judging by the scrubs you’re wearing, so need to keep your wits about you, and you are obviously not