"Jake, it's good to see you," Luisa purred, practically oozing sensuality as he sat down across from her. "Thank you for making the time to see me. I know you actually have a real job to do, and don’t sit around on your ass all day."
I heard Jake chuckle, and I had to admit, it was a good opening line. It went straight to the point, letting Jake think that not all was cool between Luisa and me, and it complimented him all at the same time. "Well, you can't blame the guy too much. Kinda hard to do pickups when you're on crutches. But he's okay overall. A bit soft, in my opinion, but he'll come along all right. So what did you want to ask me about?"
They launched into a discussion, pausing only when the waitress came over and got their orders. "So what weapons did you learn about?" Luisa asked after they'd already talked a bit about basic training. "My brother loves the pictures he's seen of the . . . what is it again? The machine guns, I forget the names."
"Well, I trained on the M60 when I was at Benning, but later on, I fired the M240," Jake said, "but I never was in the heavy weapons squad. I did get to be the SAW gunner for my squad—that's a machine gun that we have at the squad level. That baby rocked."
"Hmmm, which one was the one that is used in movies most? Matteus first saw it in one of the old Rambo movies, I'm not sure which you're talking about."
"Oh, that's the sixty," Jake said with a grin. "We called it the Hog, and yeah, it’s pretty cool to fire. Only time I ever got to do any time on it in Korea, though, was when I was on point defense along the DMZ. That's pretty freaky, really."
"Why's that?" Luisa asked, acting fascinated.
"Well, you're up on this reinforced guard tower, looking out over about a mile or so of totally untouched terrain. Seriously, since nineteen fifty-four, almost nobody's been in there at all except in very defined areas. Anyway, you're staring out at this mile of pretty much pristine land, knowing that a mile or two away someone is staring back at you, ready to blow your damn head off. Hell, he wouldn't even need to, because you know the North Koreans have had the coordinates for your outpost in their artillery since before you were born. They could probably hit that thing in their sleep, and you wouldn't even see it coming. Still, you’ve gotta be up there, doing your bit for God and country."
"That has to lead to a lot of stress," Luisa said, turning the conversation. "I've heard a lot of the soldiers find Korean girls who are willing to have fun with the soldiers and let them release some stress."
"Ah, the camp girls and Princesses," Jake chuckled. "Yeah, they're around."
"What's the difference?" Luisa asked, purring. "Looks?"
"No," he admitted, his eyes caught between looking at her lips as she sensuously ate every bit of her steak, or her cleavage that was still on display. "The camp girls are amateurs, just finding a boyfriend. Some of them were actually looking for a real boyfriend too, usually to get a green card to get out of Korea. Hell if I knew what they did when they got back here. They were actually more of a risk than the Princesses, since those girls were pros. They got health checks from the Korean government and everything. I don't know how that all worked out, but basically, if you needed your pipes cleaned, it was better to go to a Princess than a camp girl. Why?"
"Well, these girls—were they pretty?" Luisa asked.
"None of them held a candle to you, if that's what you're asking," Jake replied, his voice dropping. "Although they certainly had some Far East secret techniques that they taught me. I could maybe show you, if you're interested."
"Hmm, maybe later," Luisa said, putting her fork down and reaching underneath the table. I knew what she was doing—getting her pistol ready—even though I couldn't see anything from the angle I was sitting at. "First, though, one more question. Did you ever know a Princess named Sul Ham Kook?"
Jake had been distracted for nearly ten minutes, and the sudden frankness of her question threw him off, just as we'd intended. He stammered, then set his fork down. "Who?"
"Sul Ham Kook," Luisa repeated, keeping her hand steady under the table. I could now see her tiny little pistol from my vantage point, and I slipped my hand inside my jacket, ready to help if needed. “Come on, you know her."
Jake sat back, trying to play it cool. "Luisa, I have no idea who you're talking about. How about we call Tomasso, or maybe my dad, and we can straighten this all out . . .”
“Don’t reach for the jacket," Luisa warned, cocking her head. "You don't want to know what's in my hand and pointed at your balls under the table. Now, Sul Ham Kook. How'd you two meet?"
Jake sighed and set his hands on the table. "At a bar. A Princess bar, at least that's what the guys in my platoon called it. I met her soon after coming to Korea and needed my pipes flushed. She and I hit it off pretty well, and we got a pretty regular thing going. Then her village was wiped out, and she started talking to me more about her life and family. We got to be friends, nothing more."