Chapter 1

In a small house

Somewhere in Iraq

Mike didn’t know what time it was. With no window in the room, it was hard to tell the time of day precisely but he was almost positive that it was no longer daylight outside. He kept thinking that this was all just a bad dream, and that any minute now he was going to wake up and find himself safe and warm back in Philadelphia in his own bed. The only trouble with bad dreams is that sometimes, as in this case, they turn out to be all too frighteningly real.  The room in which he sat felt damp and cold, the floor was dirt, and there was no heat to help keep some of the chill out of the air. The walls of the room were rough stone and the only furniture in the room was the rickety old bench on which he now sat.  Keeping his arms folded around himself for warmth he sat alone in the dark thinking how much he wished that he were anywhere but here.  He was completely alone with his thoughts and with nothing to do but contemplate his situation, as he sat with his back against the rough wall trying to keep from going insane with boredom. Mike sat daydreaming trying to speed up the passage of time, which had slowed to an absolute crawl.

Realizing that his current situation was dangerous was small consolation. Mike knew in his heart that he would never be safe, not even in this so-called safe house, until he was out of this God forsaken, war torn country, and back where he belonged. Yeah where did he belong? Mike wasn't certain exactly where that was anymore. No place really felt like home to him at that moment. But no matter where he did belong, he was positive that it was definitely not in the middle of this stinking third world shithole where every person he saw might be the one who was trying to kill him. For now, all he could do for comfort was close his eyes and pretend that he was not fighting for his life and trying to get somewhere safe. Mike tried to slow his breathing and calm his ragged nerves as he sat in the dark, thinking about a time almost seven months earlier when this entire horrible adventure had begun.

Back then he had been more or less content working his assignment in the evidence room on the day-watch at Philly PD's 7^th district. Mike had worked for the Philadelphia Police Department for 15 years. Although he wasn't so sure he could really call what he had, a career anymore. A career by definition was something that had a future, and Mike’s future back then had looked bleak as he struggled daily just to survive, hoping he’d be allowed to make it to minimum retirement age by working five more years. Five years! God, it had sounded like a lifetime when he realized that he had to have a minimum of 20 years on the job in order to put in for a 50% city pension. If he could hold it together that long, he remembered thinking, without getting himself fired, he planned to leave Philadelphia and move to some small quite out-of-the-way town, down South perhaps. There he figured he might be able to get another cop job. That sounded good, really good. It would be nice, he thought to be a cop in a small town where he could be anonymous and mind his own business.  It wouldn't even have to pay that much, he reasoned, because he would have his city pension, and if he could supplement that with another job, even a low paying one, then he would be able to make it just fine. Mike had no real expenses beyond the child support that he was currently required to pay.  If he could earn enough to keep a roof over his head and food on the table then that would be enough to keep him happy.

Mike was not sure why he felt that leaving Philly was the answer. It was just that the city held so many bad memories for him, and he desperately wanted to get as far away from those memories as he could. Then maybe he might be able to forget his current boozy existence and start living some kind of a real life again. Mike's life had pretty much fallen apart earlier in the year, when Jamie Sue had decided that being a police officer's wife was not the glamorous existence she had dreamed of living. One Thursday evening seemingly out of the blue, and for reasons that Mike could not fathom at the time, Jamie Sue had calmly informed him that she was taking their kids and moving to Ohio where her parents now lived so she could be closer to them. What followed, was days of frantic packing, followed by the loading of the car. During all that time Jamie Sue had said little to Mike beyond what was necessary to complete the task at hand. Before he realized it, Mike stood watching, as Jamie Sue's car pulled away from their house, turned the corner at the end of their quiet street, and disappeared. Mike remembered standing there looking at the empty street and wondering just what he was supposed to do now.

Since the moment of his families departure, all Mike had managed to do was to stay drunk most of the time, only sobering up enough to go to work.  Now that he was alone and without a car, he'd moved into a small one-bedroom apartment that was located within walking distance of work. He had put their modest house up for sale, and once it sold, he had dutifully sent Jamie Sue most of the money. His wife's departure and the sale of the house they had both loved, only served to confirm in Mike's mind what he had managed to convince himself of a long time ago, that he was worthless as a father and husband. That coupled with the fact that he was convinced that he was never going to be a big success in the Police Department, meant he had been right when he'd decided that he was basically just a loser.

When he had first become a Police Officer, Mike had loved the job. Being out in the streets, driving a city car, dealing with people and helping to solve their problems, now that was Mike's idea of great job. When his friend Pat O'Malley had first approached him with the idea of applying for the Police Department, Mike a first resisted. He wasn't Police material, he remembered telling Pat, and if they ever found out some of the stuff he and Pat had done when they were kids, hell they would never hire either of them.  Nevertheless, he finally agreed to go, to not only shut Pat up, but also because he realized that continuing to work at his current dead-end-job or even being in an office all day long, would probably bore him to death!  Police officers were depended upon to be brave, they were respected, allowed to carry a gun, and help people, Mike liked that.  As a cop, people would look up to him. It was important work with an element of danger, and that had really appealed to him somehow.  But after a few years on the job, Mike began to believe that he was probably not supervisor material and it soon became apparent to him that his lot in life was to be one of the worker bees. As a result, Mike believed that a patrol officer was all he was qualified to be. He had managed to convince himself that he did not possess the drive, ambition, or education that it took to reach the upper ranks.

Mike had his strengths of course, but they seemed to fall far short of making him stand out among his peers.  One skill Mike did possess was what people call a sort of sixth sense. He often knew long before any one else when there would be trouble. Some people called it ESP, second sight, or maybe just a gut feeling. Whatever it was called, Mike seemed to have it, and he'd had the ability for so long that he took it for granted and paid it no attention. Mike was a person that could predict what was going to happen before it took place and he was almost never wrong. It actually became a running joke between them. Mike and Pat would be driving around in their patrol car when without warning, Mike would suddenly say.

“That car up ahead is stolen!”

Sure enough, when they would stop the car on some pretext or another, it would invariably turn out that the car was stolen, and the thieves would be completely shocked that they had been caught so easily. Most of Mike's fellow police officers thought it was creepy the way he predicted the future, but for Mike it was just a normal function, like breathing, and just came naturally to him. It came so naturally to him that Mike would often get into trouble for depending on the skill to much. Using his sixth sense, meant that he often failed to adequately justify his actions or provide sufficient probable cause for the things he did and the subsequent arrests he made. The outcome, more often than not, would lead to the suspects being released.  This would always make Mike furious, especially when he was proven to be right. It never seemed to matter to his bosses that he had a skill for predicting events, or that he had the ability to know when a crime was being committed. The Brass wanted him to be able to prove that what he was doing was justifiable. Because, it often meant saving the department from being embarrassed or sued for false arrest. All the bosses seemed to care about, in Mike's opinion, was the public's perception of the job he did and not the results he got. His skills never seemed to help him be a better cop. Though he did his job and made his arrests, everyone else always seemed to have more aptitude for the job than he did. As a result, Mike never received any of the recognition that he felt he deserved. The accolades always went to the more politically correct officers, and after a while, it started to wear him down. Mike was just an ordinary person, living a very ordinary life, doing what he considered the best he could, while he worked at his chosen profession. His guess that he was just like thousands of other ordinary people who went to work every day but never managed to get any thanks for the job they did, was right on the mark as far as he was concerned.

When Mike finally came to the realization that he would have to settle for being just one of the nameless faces in the crowd, it had not mattered very much to him. It even made going to work each day easier somehow. As long as he accepted his lot in life, if he never got ahead, it was ok because Mike just liked doing the job. It was enough for him to be able to go home after work to his small house, and his wife and kids, nothing else really mattered. It had apparently mattered though to Mike's wife Jamie Sue. She had wanted more for her husband than just settling for being a Police officer. As a result, she constantly tried to encourage him to try and make something of himself by testing for promotion. Mike however, knew in his own mind that he was not smart enough and didn't possess the political savvy that it took to be a supervisor. Therefore, whenever the subject would come up between them, he just put Jamie Sue off. He would simply ignore her when she would bitch at him for hours telling him that he could do better. He’d just tune her out and drink his beer, often getting blind drunk before falling into bed and going to sleep. Mike's apparent lack of ambition infuriated Jamie Sue to the point that she sometimes would not speak to him for days on end, and Mike could never understand why. He simply could not fathom why Jamie Sue never seemed to be able to understand and accept that it was because he didn't have what it took to be a supervisor, that he wouldn't take the promotional tests. Mike knew that he was destined to be a beat cop and no amount of bitching would change that.  

Now Jamie Sue and the kids were gone, and if he believed what she had told him, they were not coming back.  With no family to come home to, all Mike had left was his job, that and the liquor bottle at the end of every shift that seemed to hold all the answers to life's most important questions. When he was not working, Mike simply stayed drunk. His drinking had gotten so bad that his Sergeant had begun to take notice of his condition at the start of each shift. The constant drinking, and the fact that he now did just enough work to get by, and no more had made Mike the laughing stock of the district. The “Irish drunk” they all called him, and Mike was humiliated every time he heard someone say it, even though no one would say it to his face. It was always the under-the-breath snickers and the whispered comments said just loud enough for him to hear in the locker room.  It slowly drove him crazy, and brought on the lackadaisical attitude that had caused him to be written up so many times, that he'd had lost count. Mike knew in his heart that everyone was right, and it was only a matter of time before he would be suspended or fired if he didn't clean up his act.  Trouble was, it was easier to drink away his problems than to face them so, that's exactly what he did.  His only salvation during that period had been his lifelong friendship with his watch commander and boyhood friend Lieutenant Patrick O'Malley. Ever since they were little kids, it was Pat who was always there to intervene on Mike's behalf. Pat O'Malley was the main reason Mike had managed to hold onto his job as long as he had, when anyone else in a similar position, would have been fired long ago.

Chapter 2

Mike Sullivan and Pat O'Malley had grown up together, living just two houses apart in the same Mt. Airy neighborhood, which when they were growing up was home to many diverse ethnic groups, Germans on one street, Jewish on another, and Irish on yet another. Pat and Mike had been the best of friends for as long as Mike could remember. When they were kids, Mike and Pat would play stickball in the street with the other kids in the neighborhood. Pat always pitched, and Mike true to his nature was always the one who chased the ball. Mike remembered how he and Pat were always getting into trouble for stealing candy or breaking windows, or just for getting into fights like all kids that age often did. Mike's mom constantly worried about him when he was young. She was a good church-going woman, and she didn't want her only son getting into trouble and ending up in jail. She worked hard to instill in Mike the values she admired; hard work, responsibility, and a determination to make something of himself. Mike's dad, a man who valued a drink more than keeping a steady job, had left Mike and his mother when Mike was only five, a fact that had not escaped Mike's notice. Because he was without a father to guide him, or act as a good example to him, Mike usually found himself making bad decisions.

Despite all of this, Mike's mom had tried hard to remain optimistic about her son's chances for success.  It wasn't easy for them while Mike was growing up, because being a single woman with a child in those days meant being an outcast.  Mike's mother was a woman with no education to speak of and no real job skills. Women of that era were expected to stay at home and raise the kids, not go to work. In spite of this, she somehow managed to hold down two jobs while raising her son to be the kind of man who respected the law and other people's property. Despite his mother's best efforts, Mike grew into quite a hell raiser. Without a father to guide him, he just naturally fell into bad habits. It was Pat O'Malley that had been Mike's redeemer. Pat was a year older than Mike, and someone that Mike looked up to and respected.  Pat liked Mike so they naturally became the best of friends. Regardless of what Mike would get into, Pat would be there to look out for him and protect him as best he could.

However, regardless of what Pat tried to do, Mike always seemed to get into trouble and it was Pat that would have to bail him out, whenever he got in over his head.  Mike liked to recall the time that he had fought Ricky Murphy, the neighborhood bully. Murphy was a big kid, taller, heavier, and meaner than anyone else, and he always had a gang of kids following him around. Murphy liked having the other kids look up to him. He was more or less a natural leader, and was always trying to impress his entourage by doing the things that would get him the attention he craved. Murphy would shove others around, steal fruit from the street vendors, and then dare them to try to catch him. Murphy's worst fault, at least as far as Mike was concerned, was that he picked on any kid that was smaller or weaker than he was. Mike never liked seeing anyone being taken advantage of especially someone who could not defend himself.  Mike was firmly convinced that Ricky Murphy would one-day wind up becoming one of the many Irish gangsters that his neighborhood seemed to produce. Mike felt this way mainly because he knew that Murphy wasn't smart enough to be anything else. 

Mike put up with Ricky's antics, until one bright September afternoon when Mike turned the corner near old man Gourley's candy store, and saw Murphy knock down and start to beat up on young Tommy Delaney, who for all intent and purpose was the obvious choice for any bully who wanted to pick on someone unable to defend himself. Delaney was weak and small for his age. He loved to read, and excelled in school, but was not at all athletic, and therefore unable to protect himself from the likes of Murphy. On that particular day, Mike had rounded the corner after pinching a piece of penny candy from the display in front of Gourley's, and seeing what Murphy was up too had gotten mad. Mike walked up, pushed Ricky off Tommy, and then told Murphy to pick on someone his own size. Murphy lay there on his back for a moment in total shock, unable to believe that anyone was brave enough or stupid enough to actually pick a fight with him. Murphy had gotten up after a moment, and confronted Mike who stood there defying him and making him look bad in front of his cronies, who were also in shock that anyone would stand up to their leader.  Before Mike knew what was happening, he and Murphy were going at it tooth and nail. Mike being big for his age, and tough, could have easily beaten Murphy and actually held his own for the first few minutes. Then his normal shyness and his built in defeatism allowed Murphy to get the upper hand, and Mike began to take the beating of his life. The fight went on like that with Mike getting the worst of it, until Pat O'Malley had shown up, and seeing what was going on, had waded in, and beat Murphy to a bloody pulp. After that day, Murphy never tried anything around Mike again, or to be more specific around Pat, who was always with Mike like a shadow.  Things continued that way as they grew up with Mike and Pat always together, each sort of watching out for the other. However, it always turned out to be Pat who watched Mike's back. Mike would get into scrapes and Pat would always bail Mike out.  Pat had bailed Mike out of more tough situations than either of them could remember. Regardless, they always stuck together closer than twins. After graduating from high school, a local construction company offering hard work and low pay as their only incentives, had hired them both. It hadn't matter to Mike that the job was dead-end, with no future, just as long as he and Pat were together it made all the difference in the world. They went to work together and drank beer together after work. After Mike and Jamie Sue got married, and were struggling to make ends meet, Pat was always there to lend a hand or a few dollars to get them through. Pat was Mike’s big brother, father figure, and best friend, and  Pat was the one who had found out that the Police Department was hiring.

After learning that there were jobs available with the Police, Pat had goaded Mike for days to go with him to apply for the job.  In frustration, Mike had finally agreed to go just to shut Pat up, never believing that they had any chance of actually being hired. Pat and Mike had gone down to city hall and filled out the employment application form. They were then directed to a room where they, along with 48 others, had taken the civil service and physical agility tests. A week later when the letter came, no one was more surprised than Mike when the two learned that they had passed the tests and been accepted.  They had celebrated for two days and nights with their other friends before reporting to the Police Academy together at the start of what would be 30 weeks of training.  The friends had endured the physical fitness training and the endless hours of classroom instruction, during which Pat would help Mike along so he would not wash out.  Although Mike was probably the worst police cadet in the cities history and was dead last academically in his class, he really excelled in one area, and that was on the pistol range. Mike's natural ability to shoot was nothing short of miraculous. He was so good in fact, that he became the top sharpshooter of the entire 50-man class, even winning the first place trophy at the class marksmanship competition. After graduation, they were both been assigned to the departments 7^th district during their one-year probationary period. After completing probation, and after weeks of lobbying their watch commander, they had been allowed to partner together during their first years on the job. Mike remembered those as some of the best and most memorable years of his life. The two partners spent almost every minute of their day together always watching out for each other. On several occasions Pat had literally saved Mike's life. Once, while answering a suspicious person call, a deranged man they had chased from the scene, jumped Mike in a dark alley and took away his gun. The man had stood there pointing Mike's gun at him, until Pat had tackled the man from behind and handcuffed him. On another occasion, the two had pulled up to a convenience store so Mike could get a soda. Without realizing it, Mike walked right into the middle of an armed robbery in progress. The suspect, had immediately gotten the drop on Mike, holding him at gunpoint. Within seconds Pat saw what was going on, burst into the store, shooting and killed the suspect before Mike even had the chance to react. On these and many other less newsworthy occasions, Pat had quietly and lovingly done his job to the best of his ability, and in the process looked out for Mike.

Eventually, Pat O'Malley's excellent work record came to the attention of the powers that be, resulting in him being promoted to Sergeant. The policy in that day required that upon promotion, Pat accept a transfer to another district. As a result, Pat was sent to the 77^th district, in south Philadelphia. At first, Mike had been happy that Pat was getting ahead.  But the promotion and transfer meant the end of Mike and Pat's partnership, and Mike had felt a deep sense of lost that he no longer had his friend to look out for him. After Pat's departure, the job didn't seem to be as much fun for Mike anymore. Mike just seemed to go through the motions of going to work each day and then going home. It wasn't until almost 4 years had passed and Patrick Jonathan O'Malley had been promoted to Lieutenant, that he was able to arrange a transfer back to the 7^th district as a watch commander. With Pat back at the 7^th district, the two had renewed their friendship as if no time had passed at all, and suddenly life took on a new meaning for Mike. Whenever it was possible for Pat to get away from the station house for a few hours, he would always call for Mike so that the two of them could ride around together. It was like old times for Mike. Unfortunately, the rides were few and far between because Pat had other obligations as the watch commander, and he and Mike would sometimes go days without being able to spend any real amount of time together on the job. Regardless of the amount of time they could spend together on the job though, the two friends had been almost inseparable, often spending their time off together. After end of each shift, they would invariably stop in at the Light Bar Tavern, which was run by an old retired cop named Gunderson. At the Light Bar, Mike and Pat could spend some of their off time with other cops, knocking back a few while telling lies and swapping war stories late into the night. Just like before, Pat O'Malley always looked out for his friend, seeing to it that Mike got home safe whenever he'd had a few to many, and was not able to drive. 

Pat had protected Mike like a little brother all his life, so naturally it was Pat who was always there to listen to Mike's tales of woe, or to lend him a sympathetic ear whenever he wanted to complain about Jamie Sue's constant bitching at him to try for promotion.  Yeah Mike and Pat were close all right, some would say closer than brothers.  So naturally it was Pat who rushed over and sat up all night with him the day Jamie Sue walked out. Pat wanted to make sure that Mike did not stick a gun in his mouth and eat a bullet, because that is exactly what Mike would have done had it not been for Pat's intervention. Mike's reaction to his family's departure had been a typical one for him. He had simply gotten drunk then began to feel sorry for himself, until he reached the point of absolute despair. Pat realizing this and true to his nature, had sat with Mike listening to him, quietly talking to him, and trying to find a way to keep his drunken friend from killing himself. Mike had held his service revolver to his head the entire time, trying to scrape up the courage to shoot himself, and Pat had stayed right there the entire time, talking to Mike, and trying to get the gun and the liquor bottle away from him. Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, Pat had finally gotten Mike to put the gun down and had taken the almost empty whiskey bottle from him. After considerable effort, Pat managed to get several cups of hot black coffee down Mike's throat before Mike had broken down in tears, holding onto Pat while crying, telling Pat how his life was over and he didn't know how he would go on.

Pat had quietly told Mike that he needed to get a hold of himself and try to look at the bright side. He also told Mike that maybe he needed to take some disability leave, get away from the stresses of the job for a while, and get some medical help before his drinking forced the city to fire him. Pat told Mike that he would gladly drive him to any hospital in the city if he would agree to get some help in putting his life back in some sort of order. Despite the logic of Pat’s argument, Mike had stubbornly refused, saying that he didn't "need no damn shrink", and that if they took his job away from him, then life really wouldn't be worth living. Mike's drunken comments and absolute refusal to accept any kind of professional help, convinced Pat that if he didn't somehow get Mike off the booze and get him some help that it was inevitable, the Police Brass would force Mike to take a leave or else resign. So Pat had helped his friend the best way he could, by getting him off the streets and assigning him to some light duty inside the station house.  He wanted to keep Mike out of sight of the brass, who would surely have suspended or possibly even fired him had they been able to see the sorry state to which Mike had sunk. Pat felt that if he could keep Mike close to him in the station house, that he could look after Mike and keep him sober and out of trouble.  The plan worked well until about 6 months after Jamie Sue left, and just after Pat had called to tell her about Mike's condition, and his absolute refusal to get any help.

After speaking with Pat, Jamie Sue had called Mike up begging him to get some help. Unfortunately, the only thing that the call accomplished was to cause an argument between them, with Mike finally telling her that he did not need or want her advice, and to mind her own business. On hearing that, Jamie Sue had said nothing for a long moment on the phone. When she began talking again, through her sobs, she quietly told Mike that she no longer knew what to say to him. She told Mike that since he did not want her advice that she did not know what else to do and was therefore going to file for divorce. Much to Pat's dismay the news of the divorce had sent Mike into another tailspin and he began to drink heavily again.  Six months later, just as Pat was getting Mike back on track, and back on the wagon, the final divorce decree came through. The letter informing Mike of the action came at a worse possible moment, hitting Mike hard and leaving him devastated once again. Pat desperately wanted to find some way to cheer Mike up so he would stay sober, and return to the old friend he knew while growing up.

Pat had been at a loss, not knowing exactly how to help Mike. Until one day, quite by accident, Pat learned about a security company in Virginia that was hiring cops to go to Iraq to train the new Iraqi Police forces. Pat was excited because he thought at the time that it might be just the thing Mike needed. If he could get Mike out of Philly and onto something new that maybe, he just might be able to help Mike develop a better outlook on life. Pat had made a special trip to Mike's house that afternoon just to tell him about the job in Iraq. After much cajoling on Pat's part, Mike had finally agreed to fill out the job application. As Pat watched, Mike filled out the paperwork and Pat noticed that in doing so it seemed to rejuvenate Mike somewhat. Maybe thought Pat, this is the thing to help him forget the past and get on with his life. After Mike finished filling out the application Pat had made sure that it was put it in an envelope, sealed and stamped. Pat had then driven Mike to the nearest mailbox and watched as Mike dropped the letter into the slot.  Pat remembered thinking that finally Mike was on his way to a new life.