Chapter 13: State Committee of the State of Emergency

August 14, 1991, Chicago, Illinois

“Are you sure it’s OK to go to the race on Sunday?” I asked. “I can give my ticket to someone else.”

“I think so long as I’m not in labor on Sunday morning at 3:00am it should be OK. Do you think your cell phone will work in Michigan?”

“The coverage along the freeways is getting better, but I wouldn’t bet on it working in Brooklyn, Michigan. I can give the ticket away, Babe.”

“I think we should,” Kara said. “Both of ours. Kathy and Kurt will take them, I bet. And Jesse would be happy to go with them.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” I said. “I can call them right now. Kurt should be getting ready for work and Kathy will be up with him.”

I got up from the table and went to the phone. Kathy answered and I explained the situation.

“I would have come there personally and kicked your ass if you went to that race with your wife that pregnant!” she said firmly.

“Bring it on, hot stuff!” I chuckled.

“You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you!” she laughed.

“You can leave Kristin with us, obviously,” I said. “I suppose you’ll skip Saturday night?”

“Yes. We’ll survive! I guess you won’t have to go to bed early!”

“You could come over,” I chuckled.

“Don’t tempt me! But we’ll bring Kristin by on Saturday afternoon. We’ll pick her up on the way home then.”

“Penny’s leaving Amber here, too. Peter and Nicky are staying home.”

“See you Saturday!”

I hung up and went back to finish breakfast with my wives.

“All set!”

“You and Kathy never stop flirting, do you?” Jessica smiled.

“We’ll only stop when we’re dead!”

“But we get full benefit from that, Jess!” Kara giggled. “She gets him worked up and he has to come to us!”

“Says the woman who lets Kurt get HER all worked up!” I chuckled.

“I don’t think Kara needs help in that regard!” Jessica giggled.

“No, she doesn’t!” I confirmed. “Changing topics, I’m sorry you couldn’t go to your conference this weekend.”

“There will be others. Probably in the spring, though, since I don’t know when this baby is going to be born, or what my schedule will look like when I go back.”

“I need to get to the office,” I said.

“Are you still planning to take time off for the baby?”

“A couple of days, then a couple of days half-time. Kara should be here unless you don’t deliver until September.”

“Bite your tongue!” Jessica hissed.

August 17, 1991, Chicago, Illinois

“We’re missing a few people,” Karl said.

“Dave, Terry, and Kurt are going to the race in Michigan tomorrow. I believe I’d be in deep trouble if I went given that Jess is due any day now.”

Karl laughed, “You fear no man, but there are a few women...”

“Tell me you don’t fear your wife! Go on!”

He chuckled, “Oh, I do. But you have two wives, plus Elyse and Jennifer, and Melanie Spencer!”

Pete laughed, “Tell me someone who ISN’T afraid of my wife and I’ll show you a truly fearless man! Or a stupid one!”

“Do prosecutors really cry when she walks into a courtroom?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t you?” he grinned.

“I suppose I would. I’m glad she’s on my side! Have you heard anything more?”

“No. Sometime in September.”

I nodded. Karl was the only other person who knew about Pete’s transfer request; well, besides the aforementioned Melanie Spencer.

“What’s on tap for tonight?” Karl asked. “Going to take all our money?”

“Nah, I’m sitting out the tournament. Terry isn’t here, so there’s no real competition!”

“Asshole,” Karl said, laughing.

“I do need to go check and make sure Jesse is asleep; Kurt and Kathy are picking him up at 2:45am.”

“You don’t think April and Sarah can handle him?” Pete asked.

“Do you?” I chuckled.

“No! A squad of Marines would have trouble keeping Jesse in line!”

We all laughed and I headed for the coach house. And it was a good thing. Jesse was in a heated debate with April about finishing his game on his SNES.

“Hi, Jesse,” I said walking up behind him.

He spun around in surprise.

“Hi, Dad,” he sighed. “Bed?”

“Yes. You’re going to the race tomorrow. Aunt Kathy and Uncle Kurt will be here in six hours. I know Mom One made you take a nap, but you need to get to bed now.”

“OK,” he reluctantly agreed.

“Let’s get you upstairs, young man,” Sarah said with a smile.

She took his hand and led him up to his room.

“Where’s Francesca?” April asked.

“It’s over between them. She told him to stop hugging Amber and Kristin.”

“Wow! She’s pretty young to be that jealous!”

“I agree. He dumped her and I agree with his decision. And it worked out since he got to sleep with a cute Swedish girl for four nights!”

April laughed, “He told me about Marta, and Lara in Russia. And his new friend Eugen!”

“Well, Lara’s mom is a bit more conservative than Marta’s mom, so he didn’t get to sleep in the same bed as Lara.”

April smirked, “I hear you kissed Marta’s mom! Every night! And Eugen’s mom, too!”

I shook my head, “Jesse talks WAY too much!”

“You sure I can’t talk you into kissing me and Sarah?” she asked, her voice oozing desire.

“I was told you two had steady boyfriends.”

“You and your stupid rule! We’re not engaged or anything!”

“But you are dating only them, right?”

“Yes, Mr. Prosecuting Attorney!”

“Then my rule has to apply. It’s kept me out of a lot of trouble over the years.”

“You’re missing something VERY special,” she said, batting her eyes at me.

“Oh I’m sure!”

“Can’t talk him into it?” Sarah asked coming back down the stairs.

“No,” April sighed, clearly frustrated.

Sarah walked over and put her arms on my shoulders and moved so that her breasts were just barely touching my chest.

“You’re passing up being fucked senseless by two sexy young women? With no limits on what you can do? Or where you can put it?”

I smiled, “I have to pass. I’m sure April told you my rule.”

“She did. Waive it. You’ll be VERY happy!”

“For a few hours, and then I’ll feel very bad. I need to get back to the house.”

“I think he’s turning gay! He prefers the company of men!”

I chuckled, “You’re persuasive, but not persuasive enough. I’ll stop in and check on the kids later.”

Sarah dropped her arms and let me leave the coach house. I was certainly tempted, but as I’d said, that rule had served me very well, and I wasn’t about to violate it.

August 19, 1991, Chicago, Illinois

“Aren’t you due very soon?” Doctor Green asked.

“Sometime in the next week,” Jessica said.

“Remind me at the end to set the next appointment six weeks out. Is that OK?”

“I would think so,” she said.

“How are things going?”

Both of my wives looked at me.

“Uh oh,” Doctor Green said. “What happened?”

“I made a stupid, insensitive remark in a minor fit of pique. We were watching the NASCAR race a week ago and there was a bad crash, and a driver died. Jess asked if I thought that was an acceptable way to die. I snapped at her, asking if she supposed dying crushed under a semi on the Dan Ryan was acceptable. That happened a few weeks ago and Jess had a tough time dealing with it because three kids and their dad died; the kids in the ER, the dad at the scene.”

Doctor Green shook his head, “Well, continuing in our tradition of directness, you can be a real blockhead at times, Steve. In this case, you were not just a blockhead, but an insensitive one to boot.”

“I know. I immediately apologized and asked forgiveness. It was granted, provided I told you about the incident.”

“Well, I suppose we have our topic for today then.”

“I suppose we do,” I agreed.

“So why say it?” he asked.

“I believe the phrase is something along the lines of not engaging my brain before opening my mouth.”

“Well yes, but there has to be a reason you said it. We don’t do anything without some cause. I think you can identify it.”

I smiled wryly, “My dispute with Jessica over risk-taking. She scored a point, if you will, because the driver died. And I wanted to defeat her point.”

“Go on,” he prompted.

“Because I don’t think dying while racing is an empty death,” I said, referring to something Guinan had said to Tasha Yar in the TNG episode Yesterday’s Enterprise; something which I knew Jessica would remember. “He died doing what he loved, what he’d dedicated his life to, as opposed to that family that died in a random automobile accident.”

“And you see the two as very different?”

“Yes, because he knew the actual risks, whereas nobody I know of accepts that they could die driving home from work. Or walking back to the office on a military base.”

“You don’t think your friend assumed that risk?”

“Of being killed by the enemy? Of dying in some kind of military accident? Sure. But of being murdered? No fucking way!”

“And your take on this Jessica?”

“The same as it’s always been. I think risking your life to win money or fame is foolish.”

“Let’s explore that for a moment,” Doctor Green said. “What’s a GOOD reason to risk your life?”

“As a fireman or police officer. Or to defend or save someone else’s life.”

“What about being an astronaut?” he asked.

Challenger. I had no idea what Jessica thought about that because we hadn’t really discussed it. We were married, but she’d been in Indianapolis when the accident had happened. I was curious what she thought.

“I suppose exploration could be a good reason.”

“I’m going to ask you a question, but I don’t want an answer today. I want you to think about it. How do you decide what is an acceptable risk for someone else to take? Just think about it, and we’ll talk about it in six weeks.”

“OK.”

“Were there any issues from Steve’s trips?”

“No,” Kara said. “He had a very nice, relaxing time seeing old friends. And making a few new ones.”

“How did your son handle the trip?” Doctor Green asked.

“Like a pro! He was so hyped to go to Russia nothing would have stood in his way. He made new friends and saw old ones. Now he wants to learn Russian and Swedish!”

“Because he wants to talk to the girls!” Kara giggled.

When the session finished, we headed home where the TV was reporting on the events in the USSR.

“Jesus!” I gasped. “That’s Dmitry Sergeyevich!”

“Where?” Jessica asked.

“The officer standing to the rear of that tank which Yeltsin is standing on! That’s the Tamanskaya Guards! Dima did exactly what Tanya implied he would do.”

“They knew this was coming?”

“They suspected something would happen. What Tanya told me was that she and Dima were on the side of Russia. And that’s what Dima’s unit is doing - protecting Russia against a hard-liner Soviet coup d’état.”

“So this State Committee of the State of Emergency? What is that?” Kara asked.

“I only recognized one name,” I said. “Boris Pugo. He’s the Interior Minister. The real question is what’s really going on with Gorbachev. I don’t buy the ‘exhaustion’ excuse. He’s either under house arrest or dead. I’m hoping the former.”

“Dead? Seriously?” Kara asked.

“That’s what I would do. You have to shoot him. If you don’t, somebody rescues him or he finds a way to get on the radio or TV and the coup is over. The ‘Reds’ shot the Tsar and his family for exactly that reason.”

“What’s going to happen next?” Jessica asked.

“Worst case? A civil war. Best case? The coup leaders fold. But either way, Yeltsin standing on one of Dima’s tanks is the end of the Soviet Union. I bet you anything you care to wager that by this time next year, there isn’t a Soviet Union. And I think that’s a safe bet. It might even be done this weekend.”

“What happens if there’s a civil war?” Kara asked.

“Nothing good,” I said. “If units of the military start fighting each other, it could quickly escalate. An all-out civil war with a modern military can’t possibly end well. And somebody will have their finger on the nukes. We have no clue who the KGB will side with, and I know from talking to Katya, that there are factions in the KGB, too. The only way this ends well is if the coup collapses in the next few days and Gorbachev comes back.”

“I hope all your friends are safe,” Jessica said.

“Me too,” I said quietly. “Me too.”

August 22, 1991, Chicago, Illinois

“You were right about Latvia and Estonia, Tiger. Countries are already recognizing their independence.”

“Whatever. All I care about is that all of my friends appear to have survived the coup. Jess, if you have a boy I want to consider naming him Dmitry.”

“Because of the coup? Instead of Alexander?”

“Yes. For my friend the general, as opposed to the last Tsar. Just think about it, please.”

“Are you OK?”

“Yes. I was just thinking about Nick. Whenever any of my friends in the military are in danger, I remember Nick.”

“Have you heard from Aimee?” Jessica asked.

“Yes. She’ll be back in the States on leave in December. She’s not sure what she’s doing or how much time she’ll actually have, but she was going to try to fly up to see us.”

“The one available girl in your life who won’t sleep with you!” Kara giggled.

“Then she’s not available, is she?” I said with a smile.

“No, I guess not!”

“Oomph,” Jessica gasped.

“Is it time?” I asked.

“I don’t know. It didn’t feel like a labor cramp. I think it was just a muscle twinge.”

“Are you sure, Babe?” I asked.

“We’ll know if I have another one!” she replied.

We waited on pins and needles, snuggled on the couch, but after thirty minutes she hadn’t had another one, so we went up to bed.

August 23, 1991, Chicago, Illinois

“Why this time?” a very annoyed Cindi growled.

I’d just vetoed the third candidate in a row for the QA position.

“I think he’s lying about his background.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“I asked the same basic question in two different ways and got two different answers.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because he stumbled over it the first time.”

“That’s three now! What am I doing wrong?”

“I think it’s just bad luck,” I said. “Where did we get these candidates?”

“Advertising in the Trib.”

“Call the placement offices at the Universities. It’s not the right time for graduates, but you never know. You could also place a call to Doctor Driesson or Doctor Bauer. Did you get any referrals from the staff?”

“No. Nobody had anyone to recommend for a QA job.”

“Wait a sec. Are you only looking at Computer Science grads?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s what you’re doing wrong! The QA job doesn’t have to go to a CS grad.”

“You signed off on it!”

“Then it’s my fault. I should have noticed that and said something.”

“Bullshit. Quit patronizing me! It’s my job!”

“No, it’s OUR job.”

“What happened to ‘manage your team’?”

“Cindi, what the FUCK is bothering you? Ever since you came back to work, everything is a fight. Everything is an issue. This is NOT the Cindi I know! Something is horribly wrong, and it’s affecting your job performance.”

“Eat shit!” she said, and stormed from the office.

I resisted the urge to go after her, and took a couple of deep breaths. Before I moved from my chair, Dave came into the office and shut the door.

“That did not look good,” he said.

“What’s wrong with her, Dave? She seems to be losing it. Is it the family versus work thing we discussed before?”