Captain Adamant: A Tank and His Dog

The dull roar of the city was thousands of cars all humming, squealing, and braking intermittently. It was like one’s heartbeat or their breathing: easily overlooked and yet inescapable. When Carter spent time with his superior, Catherine Alexander, like he was doing now in City Center, beneath a ten o’clock sun, he found it easy to concentrate. All other sounds seemed to disappear behind her voice. All other sights…

“I’m hoping coffee will get you to actually carry a conversation.”

Catherine approached from behind Carter’s bench, two cups of Cafe Americana in-hand. Her blond hair, that Carter imagined was shoulder-length, resisted the breeze in a stoic, professional bun. She wore gray sharkskin pants and a jacket, with a sky-colored blouse underneath. The dress code at PRIMUS was not unlike other government agencies. Major Alexander wore the suit like she was born in it.

Carter reached out to relieve Catherine of at least half her burden. He only occasionally indulged in caffeine, and this was one of those occasions. Politeness, at the very least, demanded it.

“What do you want to talk about?” Carter peered up at her from his seat. He wore a shade of blue, close to her own, on his shirt. His neck tie, patterned with fine, miniature interlocking squares, was a darker, navy color. A gray tie-clip held it in place. His slacks were perfectly creased, and were likely the color of his coffee: creamy beige.

“Work.”

Carter managed a quick smile. “I can talk about work.”

“You can only talk about work. So let’s talk about something neither of us wants to.”

Catherine remained standing, expectantly. Her eyes lingered on Carter’s expression, even as she sipped her coffee.

Carter eyed her right back. “What sense does that make?”

“My therapist says I should get out more. Get away from work, geographically and topically. I think he just couldn’t stand hearing about PRIMUS regulations for two hours a week.” Catherine watched him for a moment longer, before jerking her head northward. “C’mon. I’ll take you to one of my favorite spots for break.”

Carter sat up from the wooden bench, and followed at her side. The sidewalk was splashed in warm sunlight, and traffic was at an enjoyable low point. Rush hour was over.

“How come I feel like I’m on assignment?” Carter sipped at his coffee after the jab. The beverage was robust, and pleasantly so. Hot air from the lid filled his nose as he drank, and the scent only enhanced the flavor.

“Please, Captain, don’t spoil our break with your sense of humor.”

“I’m just sensing a hidden motive here.”

“That is what we pay you for, isn’t it?” Catherine shot her companion a cool smile, fraught with a playful twinkle in her green eyes. “Besides, you’re one to talk, Captain.”

They came upon a crosswalk, and stopped for a moment. Catherine’s eyes buzzed around the traffic in front of her, and she had more of her coffee. Carter wasn’t entirely sure what to make of her comment.

The light gave its safety guarantee as traffic came to a halt. The duo paced across the white-lined pathway, side-by-side. Carter’s eyes were looking for a sign of where they were headed. There were only storefronts and apartments to choose from, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Let’s give my shrink something positive to talk about: how are you, Carter?”

“You think your therapist wants you to make small-talk?” Carter regards her with half-serious scrutiny, and her reply was quick: she stopped and turned to face him, cocking an eyebrow at him. The expression was a wonderful non-verbal example of “Don’t mess with me right now”. Carter didn’t back down from his query, however. Now he demanded an answer, their eyes meeting.

Catherine sips again her cup. “I mean since Frank disappeared.”

Carter's reply was immediate, and he blew out a sigh, unsurprised. “I knew it. You’re evaluating me.”

“No, Carter, I’m just - "

“Major, I know when I’m being tested. You don’t need to buy me coffee to ask me questions.”

“Apparently I do. Your last psych eval was conspicuously void of details.” Catherine’s eyes were dead serious now, the twinkle had sharpened into a pair of daggers. But Carter was resilient. The news hadn’t dubbed him the Unbreakable Man for just his armor.

“What details?”

Catherine frowned, her head furrowed in disbelief. “Williams, if you aren’t going to talk about the disappearance of your friend and mentor with a psychiatrist, then you need to discuss it with somebody.”

Carter felt like he had just been stripped of his armor. Every day he put it on, the subsequent removal took almost a half-hour. It was refreshing, but there was always a brief sense of vulnerability once the final plate had been removed. Catherine had removed his shield in less than a second. Like a tortoise without its shell, Carter felt somehow in danger in this moment. Caffeine didn’t help the feeling, and he felt his heart moving a little faster with each silent second.

She continued, fighting for eye contact, “Listen, I know it isn’t easy talking to a stranger. I have a therapist, I know. But am I a stranger?”

Carter honestly didn’t know how to answer her question. They had known each other for almost a year now. Catherine was many things: handler, commanding officer, colleague. But this was more personal than he was accustomed to. He had assumptions about their relationship. Now they were being questioned.

Catherine studied the man, looking up at a figure almost a foot taller than she was. “Mourning is difficult, Carter. For soldiers and superheroes both.”

“There’s no certainty that he’s dead.” Carter’s eyes locked with her again, daring her to refute him.

She did just that. “You really think a man like Frank Spektor would disappear completely, if he wasn’t dead? He wasn’t the sort to abandon his duties, Carter.”

Williams knew she was right. But there was nothing left for him to say. Avoiding the subject seemed much wiser. He had obligations to meet, expectations to satisfy. Worrying about his friend, stewing in that misery: they would only serve to set him back and slow him down. He had hoped Catherine would understand that.

Carter’s lungs gave up a sigh and his lips met the coffee cup once more.

Unsatisfied, but apparently unwilling to press the issue, Catherine huffed her own sigh. “Fine. Let’s keep moving. I still want to show you something.”

Wary of the details to come, Carter began reassembling his “armor”, and followed.

After nearly twenty minutes of silent strolling, they stopped in front of a small storefront on a quiet corner of City Center. Carter read the sign aloud, “City Center Humane Society?”

Catherine nodded, resting a free hand on her hip. “That’s right.”

Carter heard it now, the wailing, barking, and chirping of animals within. He was thoroughly confused, unable to decode Catherine’s reasons.

“C’mon, let’s go in.” Catherine beckoned him forward after opening the door for him. Carter stepped past her and into the storefront.

Immediately he was greeted by the smell of dozens of animals. Dander, dogfood, and droppings did not make an entirely pleasant atmosphere. There were a few other patrons perusing about. The child of an elderly couple, probably her grandparents, seemed especially enthused about the kitten pen.

More than anything, Carter was simply at a loss. He had no idea why they were here.

“Are you looking for a pet? You don't seem the type.” He turned to face Catherine, whose expression nearly mirrored that of the little girl playing with a kitten. It was a little unnerving watching her change before his eyes.

Catherine’s eyes were scanning about the mess of animals on display, some in their pens, hopping about, others sleeping peacefully, despite the noise. “No, I just like to visit.” Then her tone of voice soured a little. “I wouldn’t be able to take care of one if I brought it home.”

She spoke to the cashier behind the counter, “Can we see the dogs?” Carter watched the puppies frolic about in front of him. The cashier nodded, knowingly, without a word and left his post to lead the couple towards the back.

Catherine looked at Carter for a moment, her expression mirroring her voice: serene. “Let’s go meet the adults.”

The backyard of the building housed more than a dozen kennels, each with their own unique tenant. The cashier left the two PRIMUS employees to their devices. Catherine sighed, a smile resting on her lips. “I’ve always loved animals. My best friend in primary school had a farm; I was always jealous.”

Carter watched his companion transform in front of him. He knew they were both high-strung workaholics. They both embraced it. But right now, at this moment, Catherine seemed to drop a ton from her shoulders. Carter thought she might float off the ground. The feeling of alienation from his colleague had begun to pass; now, strange though it was, he found the whole display endearing.

“I never had a pet. Never had time. Never saw the appeal.” The two began walking alongside the kennels. Each dog, at least the ones that were awake, greeted them in their own unique way. A shaggy St. Bernard simply looked up from his rest, regarding them with lazy curiosity. The Border Collie in the next kennel was on its feet, panting and wagging its tail. Catherine knelt in front of the energetic animal, and reached a hand across the threshold. The Collie licked in greeting.

Catherine looked up to her friend. “You don’t see the appeal?”

"In housing and feeding one? I think it's strange, unless you need it for security, or disability."

“You must’ve been a riot in college, Williams.” Catherine shook her head, smiling, returning her gaze to the dog, who seemed to appreciate her company in earnest.

Carter smiled, unable to retort. “I’m not a pet person.”

“That’s too bad. It’s good karma to care for an animal.” Catherine seemed more and more engrossed in her interaction with the Border Collie.

Carter shook his head, still smiling. A rarity, but the Major had a way of bringing that out of him. He decided to leave her to it, and continued the circuit. He didn’t want to spoil her fun.

After a hyperactive Black Lab, jumping at its kennel’s gate, caught sight of the sizeable Carter Williams, it cowered and backed away, bashful.

The next, a German Short-Hair with silver fur, was much like the Border Collie, and almost slobbered on Carter from two feet away.

At the corner of the backyard, Carter found a kennel housing a black-and-gold German Shepherd, with pointed ears. This dog was sitting on its haunches, and regarded Carter calmly. Carter’s brown eyes met with his own, and the man stopped at this kennel. The canine was very nearly at Carter’s waist level, sitting upright.

The dog seemed to be sizing Carter up in silence. Carter had been doing the same to every dog he passed. Carter took a knee in front of the German-Shepherd. His tail began to wag, slowly at first.

In silence, Carter and the dog simply traded stares. The exchange was intriguing to Carter; a silent, well-behaved dog seemed a rarity in the city. His eyes spotted the collar, and the name engraved on its medallion: “Ajax”.

“Ajax.” Carter spoke aloud, and the dog seemed to sit up straighter. It reminded him of a soldier, standing at attention. He smiled, recalling the Iliad: “Bulwark of the Achaeans.” The dog tilted his head.

As they shared another brief moment of quietude, the cashier from before approached. “I think he likes you.”

Carter peeked over his shoulder for a moment, and stood. Ajax watched the tall man rise, curiously. “Why do you say that?” Carter checked his slacks for any stains.

“Normally that one ignores most people.”

Carter and Ajax again met eyes. “Where’d he come from?”

“Wealthy family from the north shore donated him. He was a guard dog, but they didn’t need him anymore, it seems.”

“So he’s trained?”

“Very well trained, sir. We haven’t had any problems with him. But you can tell he hates the kennel. We don’t have much space around here. Would you like to take him for a walk?”

Carter shook his head after another moment of studying the dog. “No thank you.” Both Ajax and the cashier wore a look of disappointment, and Carter would be lying to himself if he didn’t feel raw about it. He was taken aback by himself, the sudden guilt he felt was unexpected and unfamiliar.

“Find a friend?” Catherine approached, wiping her hands down with a towelette. She wore a contented smile. She sounded almost hopeful at the answer to her question...

The cashier indicated Ajax with a hand. The dog looked at them all, listening patiently. His tail had gone still. “I was just telling your friend that Ajax here seems to like him.”

Catherine nodded, impressed. “Well, are you going to take him home?”

Carter took another look at the German-Shepherd. “No. I can’t.” It wasn’t a lie. He thought he was being considerate of the animal. Better he find somebody else. But why did he feel a pit growing in his stomach?

Catherine gave a short sigh. “Maybe next time. We should be heading back anyway.”

The couple thanked the cashier with a handshake from each, and headed back the way they came. Ajax whined a little, and stirred from his sitting position, watching from all fours as the strangers left.

The long day had ended, and Carter lie in bed. His life was routine and regimen, schedule and scheme, and this was the last on his list. Sleep was something he had to force himself to do. When he made it to his bed, it was commonplace for him to lie beneath his covers for an hour or more, his mind pouring over the day, the week, the year…

He recalled his meeting on VIPER smuggling operations earlier in the day, and recited to himself the names of their suspects, their meeting points, their routes of travel.

He recalled the taste of coffee, and the smell of Catherine’s perfume. Carter put that out of his mind, opting for subjects more - tangible - in nature.

He turned his mind to the Eternals, and ran through his plans for the next day. He had to audit Gold Tower’s maintenance access again; he was certain they were too easy to bypass. If Captain Adamant could break down their back door, then so could a hundred others, by his estimation.

His mind turned to Frank Spektor. Carter missed him. But what was he supposed to say to Catherine, earlier today? What did she want to hear? That’s all he had to say about the matter. He was gone, and Carter had to find a way to move on. That’s what Frank would have wanted. So why did she persist? Carter wasn’t one for sob stories. You either solve the problem, or you move on. Williams had moved on.

He remembered Ajax, the German-Shepherd. Carter could picture the dog clearly in his mind, standing dutifully straight, quiet and almost professional. Like a little soldier.

Carter smiled to himself. Then he thought of how alone the dog must feel, given away by its owners, when it had done nothing to deserve it.

An atom bomb of guilt left a pit in his gut. Carter had heard the story before; he had been an orphan once. The Captain had come to terms with it, hopping from foster home to foster home, long ago. It was in the past. He hated it at the time, not knowing his real parents. He made it difficult for those kind enough to take him in. Before he shaped up, Carter put Frank through some real hell, too.

Thinking about the dog seemed to dredge all of it up again. Williams tried to get rid of the feelings, desperately wishing for sleep. That only made it worse.

The chasm in his stomach widened and darkened. He looked the dog in the eye when he said “No”. That began to hurt most of all. Because Carter had been there, once upon a time.

In futility, he turned in bed to escape. But he was nowhere near slumber.

He remembered Catherine’s words: “It’s good karma to care for an animal.”

The Unbreakable Man rolled around beneath his covers yet again. He viewed his alarm clock.

Breathing a great sigh of resignation, Carter leaped out of bed and dressed, donning green flannel pajama bottoms and a white crew-neck T-shirt. He hustled downstairs and made good time to the elevator, his car keys in hand. The Human Society was still open.

Carter led the German-Shepherd from the storefront by a small leash, offering a short wave back at the owner. Ajax wagged his tail enthusiastically, watching Carter and waiting for his lead. If dogs could smile…

Carter led the canine to the passenger seat of his forest green Land Rover. He undid the clasp on the leash, and Ajax, without so much as a nod from Carter, climbed up into the co-pilot’s seat. Carter shut the door and made his way to the driver’s seat.

He started the vehicle, and tossed the leash into the back seat. Ajax licked his forehead twice. Carter’s hand gave the tall canine a short rub on the neck. “Let’s go get you some food. Then we’ll go home.” The word had always held powerful meaning for Carter. Now that meaning was double.

The duo pulled from the curb in the Land Rover, and took to night traffic.

Carter watched the dog eat his fill, studying the animal. He hoped Ajax liked his food; it was the first time he’d ever bought it. Ajax looked around while munching on the dry kibbles, occasionally making eye contact with his new owner.

“Now I can justify this place’s square-footage.”

It was a strange talking to this dog, who couldn’t answer in kind. Who knows if the animal even understood what he was saying, or feeling? Still, Carter had the visceral feeling that the dog was indeed listening. Without judgement. Without any other motive beyond gratitude, and affection.

Carter watched his new companion in silence for what must’ve been a half-hour. When Ajax was finished eating and drinking, he began to wander Carter’s massive apartment. His paws were silent on the tile and the wood. Williams followed, simply allowing the animal time to understand his environment. After a few minutes of the silent tour and leading Carter upstairs, Ajax lay down at the foot of his bed, like it had been his spot all along.

Carter sat at the edge of the mattress, above him. He scratched the dog behind his ears. Ajax rested his head on Carter’s foot, and his tail slowly came to a standstill.

Carter wore a small smile, contented and almost joyous. He felt inclined, compelled even to keep talking. “Let me tell you about my friend, Frank…”

Now he saw the appeal.