As soon as the skipper had left, Sam got up and stood in the ddoorway to the briefing room, watching the exchange between Isabel an the boss from a distance.  He couldn't hear what was said, and quite frankly, he didn't want to.    Sam wasn't very interested in anything the girl had to say, right at that time.<br/><br/>What same did want, and what he'd decided he must have, was a nice, cold beer, preferably in a bottle.  Stepping out of the doorway, he strode off into the warm evening air, and made his way, in a roundabout fashion, to the NCO's club, where he could hear the usual ruckus coming out of the partly open doors.<br/><br/>Ten minutes later, Sam had his bottle, plus a few more, in a bucket of ice, and he smiled as he headed off in the general direction of the 432nd's barracks room.  There was a small bench and table outside the barracks, and it was just about perfect for Sam to relax at, as he treated his collection of cold bottles as best as he could.  If one or more of his teammates decided to show up, he had enough for them, too.<br/><br/>Once he found his table, Sam leaned back against it, sitting on the bench, and firing up one of his small cigars, letting the warm, cherry-tainted smoke drift from his mouth,to disappear on the wind.<br/><br/>"What a fucked-up day."  Sam said, as he leaned back, letting the tension drift away on the light breeze.