by Jacob Hammes
Marcus sat in the front row with Julie alongside Bishop’s weeping parents. They knew how close he and Bishop had been and how close the team had grown. They had always treated Marcus like a son and a brother to Bishop. The loss, in many ways, affected Marcus more deeply than it did them. He had lost not only a dear friend in this world but someone that he was responsible for, someone that he had sworn to keep safe.
Were there words to describe the pain he felt inside, Marcus would surely have expressed them. Instead, he expressed his deep sorrow and immense feeling of loss and left with everyone else when the service was over.
“I’m sorry,” Julie said for the fiftieth time that day. The radio was quiet in the car and the windows were up despite the warm dry day. “I don’t know what to say or do.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Marcus replied. He gave her a warm smile. “You didn’t do anything, love. You have been there for me and you have been more than understanding. I should be thanking you, not accepting your apologies.”
She let the topic go with a smile.
The next day, the team was gathered in the briefing room by Gregory for the beginning of a long and arduous debriefing that was sure to take weeks. No one was looking forward to the paperwork and no one was ready to write a report on their dead friend or the fact that an improbable phenomenon had taken place in their presence. The earthquakes, felt only locally, had been chalked up to a tectonic shift and the blazing ball of light, also only seen locally, was blamed on a rare electrical storm and natural phenomenon.
The team, however, knew the truth. Gregory directed them to leave their secrets with the paper that they would be describing them with. They were to learn from the ordeal and forget that something so astounding had ever happened. Phillip rolled his eyes. He smelled heavily of booze and cigarettes.
No one blamed him. Everyone had their own coping mechanism and Phillip used his every chance he could get.
Tiffany would never be the same and the team knew it. Her naked form would be eternally burned into Marcus’ mind. John had done a number on her. She had not left her house since the incident. She was given as many days off as was necessary courtesy of the United States Government. She was also directed to keep quiet about the whole situation. As a perk, or a bribe, she was offered a job in the Unusual Operations Division as a leading physician. If anyone could give her answers about what had befallen her family, it was the UOD. She did not decline the job offer. Tiffany would never be normal again.
Four o’clock rolled around quicker than Marcus had anticipated. He glanced over each member of his team before he left the office that day. David was largely unaffected by the ordeal. He had lost friends in battle before and had been sick for most of the trip, making it hard to concentrate on anything that had happened around him. Phillip, besides the stench of alcohol and the swagger in his walk that said he had been drinking, was coping only with the loss of a friend and a teammate. He let the other things, however incredible they were, go with surprising ease.
Stephen was healing quickly. The wound had punctured his intestines but the doctors were able to close it with nothing more than a fever to show for it. He was lucky the bullet was aimed downwards. It missed his liver by centimeters. Brenda, too, was healing with her new fiancé. Her fractured ankle hardly impaired her mobility and her love for Stephen was enough to keep her on her feet.
Henry was, well, Henry. The death of a friend had affected him as personally as it had Marcus, but both men were born leaders. They coped in their own ways, never showing the sadness within. He caught Marcus’ eye and returned a wink before leaving quickly.
Cynthia had been the most deeply wounded by the entire ordeal. She had seen a man she loved like a brother dead on the street and the fate of the world rest on a woman’s life as she lie bound to the floor in obvious agony. She had reached through a barrier that was not to be breached and come within inches of losing her arm or worse, her life. Cynthia took the praise that she was given with a grain of salt. Her arm would never heal. The burns that had affected her would scar her for the rest of her life, constantly reminding her of the powers beyond.
She saw Marcus studying her and the darkness that was in her eyes was gone in a flash. A warm, honest smile replaced the sullen sadness that had only moments ago been there. Like a glass of fine wine, she raised her severely bandaged arm like she was giving a toast.
Julie was waiting for Marcus when he got home that day. She was wearing a tight miniskirt and a tank top as she bounced happily around the kitchen, cooking a huge dinner while drinking a glass of red wine. The radio was playing something familiar by The Rolling Stones. Julie was always on the prowl for upbeat oldies. She danced around nimbly, stirring a pot of pasta while simultaneously using a spatula on a saucepan. She actually jumped when she saw Marcus poke his head around the kitchen wall.
“Surprise,” he said. She let the spatula go and wrapped her arms around Marcus in a tender embrace. The song, by sheer chance, was replaced with something soft and slow.
Marcus looked into Julie’s eyes and was glad to see the love that she had for him. She was definitely everything he could ever ask for—understanding, energetic, and smart as could be. He felt like a fool to have left her alone for so long without any contact. She must have felt her own personal pain at the possible loss of a man whom she was completely in love with.
He started slow dancing with her, rocking her back and forth to the rhythm of the music.
“You don’t deserve all this,” he said. “You’re too good for me.”
Julie smiled.
“If I was too good for you, I’d have left you long ago,” she answered in a sultry voice.
“So why do you do it?”
“Do what?” she asked, moving her lips toward his neck.
“Stick around,” Marcus said.
“Because, Marcus. You’re all the man I want. I don’t care if you can’t tell me what you do. You’re some sort of secret agent for a branch of the government I’ve never heard of. Can I ask you one thing, though, Marcus?”
“Anything,” he answered. He meant it, too. At that moment, he would have told her anything she wanted to know, even the secrets of his job. His vulnerability caught him off guard. Was he feeling love once more? Gladly, she understood that fact and surprised him all the more.
“Do you ever have to use that gun of yours?”
“More often than I would like,” he answered honestly. The response made her tense for a moment but then she was herself again.
“I have to get back to cooking,” Julie said suddenly, laughing as she spun back to her pots and pans. “My sauce is going to burn! Your distraction is going to ruin dinner.”
Marcus laughed, relieved that the night was turning out so well. He went back into the living room, turned the television on and flipped it to the sports channel. That was where the first crack in his perfect night appeared.
His cell phone rang.
“Marcus,” he answered, putting the phone up to his ear without checking the caller I.D.
“Marcus, its Gregory,” his boss announced. “We are having a mandatory meeting first thing in the morning. Five o’clock sharp.”
“What the hell for?” Marcus choked on his wine.
“We have a visitor. Mr. Lambert Fredrickson is in town and has requested a meeting with us—all of us. That includes the Department of Defense goons across the hall.”
“I’ll be there,” was all that Marcus could say. He tossed the phone onto the other side of the couch, kicked his feet up on the glass coffee table and downed the entire glass of wine.
“Maybe Phillip has the right idea,” he thought.
The End.
About the Author
Jacob Hammes wrote the Jewel of Babylon while stationed in South Korea with the United States Army. Though he has wanted to write since he was in grade school, he finally found the time to accomplish the daunting task while abroad. He has two children and a wife who carry
him through the hardships of deployment, field training, and criticism. At the moment this was written he lived in Grafenwoehr, Germany. Hopefully by the time you read this, he will be living in the Northwest region of the USA.