“I didn't realize he was so bad off. Hopefully, I'll be able to see him tomorrow.”
“Oh, pardon my manners; this is the next door neighbor, Steve Brooks. He, his wife and three little ones are new to the area. I told him so much about you and I wanted him to meet you two.”
Ron's broad smiled returned instantly. “Pleasure to meet you Mr. Brooks!”
“The pleasure is all mine!”
“This is my wife Sarah.”
“Pleased to meet you.”
“Well, come on, I have some baked goods downstairs in the kitchen ready for you.” Charlene added.
“Yum, sounds delicious!” Sarah replied.
The three ate baked goods, drank coffee and tea, talked, and then called it a night. Ron lay in bed on his back, staring at the ceiling. Sarah cuddled next to him, resting her head and hand on his chest, her hair against his chin. “What are you thinking?”
“Different things. I was remembering some of our missions together, me and top…trying to figure out what he saw that I didn't or do that I didn't.”
“He was in longer than you so you don't know everything.”
“This is true. He seemed so normal when he retired. I-I, just don't get it.”
Sarah lifted her head to look into Ron's eyes. “Hawk. Don't ever forget this.” She was pointing at his heart. “You have something strong there many don't have, even if they have been around longer and see more.”
“Are you saying he didn't have heart?”
“No, not at all. I am saying you have a very special heart…a very strong one. I don't know anyone in the world with a heart as big and strong as yours.”
Ron rubbed the back of Sarah's head with his hand. “Princess, I wish I believed my heart was as strong as you think it is. The truth is…”
“I don't want to know any more. I love you too much.”
Ron pulled her close to him and kissed her softly. “I love you more than words could ever express.”
The next morning after a plate of fried green apples, scrambled eggs, and his mom's secret recipe of welsh griddle cakes, Ron and Sarah were off to the VA. “You could have eaten your favorite smoked bacon, you know.”
“It's okay; I won't do that in front of you.”
“I would not have mind.”
“Princess, it is fine. I had plenty to eat and it was great.”
Ron and Sarah were both shocked to see First Sergeant Talbot in such an appalling physical condition as he laid in bed. He appeared to have aged twenty years in a span of seven and a once powerful man looked frail, ready to break.
“Good to see you, Hawk.” Talbot rasped. “But much better to see you!” He said to Sarah with a wide toothless grin.
“Top, you didn't tell me you were dying of cancer.”
“What difference does it make, what it is I'm dying of? No more talk about this anyway. I am glad you both could make it. I really am!” Talbot coughed viciously.
“Can I get you some water?”
In the midst of his coughing, he nodded his head until he was finally able to choke out, “Sure.”
Sarah was already pouring it into his cup. “Here you are.”
“Thanks darling. So, here I am. Retirement.”
“You did thirty-five years, top.”
“I would have done more if they'd let me.”
“Yes you would have.”
“But you Hawk. Get out now while you can. The world's going crazy out there, more so now than ever before.”
“I don't know, seems the same in many ways. I am getting a transfer to MacDill, though, next January.”
“Good! Good for you. You'll have more time to take care of this young beauty here. Never let her go.”
“No way.” Ron said laughing with Sarah.
The three talked a little longer until Ron could see Talbot starting to fade. Sarah excused herself to the restroom, leaving the two of them alone.
“Top. Can I pray with you before I go?”
“Please do, Hawk. Please do. You always were a godly man. Pray for my soul.”
“I will if you let me. I'd like you to pray for it also.”
Talbot nodded his head. “Okay. I will. Just for you, Hawk. I will.”
Two weeks later, Ron received the call that First Sergeant Talbot had died of lung cancer, complicated by an onset of pneumonia. His wife, Charlene, arranged with the Department of Defense to have a memorial service at the Arlington Cemetery, outside of Washington D.C. First Sergeant Talbot left behind a son, daughter-in-law, daughter, son-in-law, and six grandchildren.
“You will be there, won't you?”
“Of course, Mrs. Talbot. Our whole unit will be there.”
“Thank you, Hawk. He really was fond of you. Talked about you often, especially about the time he thought they lost you in Afghanistan. Then, they found you with a princess.” They both laughed.
“Yes, he always ribbed me about rescuing a princess from a fiery pit.”
“Will see you soon, Hawk.”
Just before Christmas, a chartered flight from Fort Campbell, Kentucky flew members of the fifth Special Forces Group along with their spouses to Reagan National Airport. The S-1 had arranged a blocked section of suites reserved at the AKA White House between H Street and Pennsylvania Avenue. The ten-story hotel was two blocks away from the real White House.
Ron, Sarah, Chris, and Carole, met in front of the fireplace in the lobby after checking into their rooms. Then the four of them made a quick stop at the Starbucks across the street before walking several more blocks to site-see the war memorials. Ron took pictures of the group in front of the Korean War, World War II, and the Vietnam memorials.
Their last stop before dinner was behind the White House, where they took pictures of each other. “So, I finally get to see where the president lives.” Sarah remarked.
“Yep, this is it.”
“It's beautiful!”
“Never thought of it before, I mean, its beauty.” Carole added.
“All in the eye of the beholder.” Chris said. “What do you all say for some dinner? I'm starving.”
“Let's go.” Ron responded.
Early the next morning, the four rode the metro to Arlington Cemetery and walked to the Old Chapel at Fort Belvoir. They were glad to arrive earlier than the shuttle buses with the rest of the unit because the chapel was packed, many standing around against the walls. Men in their Dress Blues, others in three-piece suits, and still others in blue jeans and leather jackets.
The Chaplain spoke for thirty minutes and then a procession began out front with a flag-draped casket hoisted onto a horse-drawn cart. Light drizzling rain fell from the gray sky, which did not seem to bother anyone present. The Army band led the way, followed by the casket and all of those walking, fell in behind. Drivers stayed at the rear of the procession. All marched down the curved street to where Master Sergeant Mark Talbot would lay for his final rest.
The chaplain added more words to coincide with the gun salute and the playing of Taps. Then, the American flag was removed ceremoniously from the casket, folded, and handed to Mrs. Talbot with a final salute. After the ceremony, Ron, Sarah, Chris, and Carole paid their respects to Mrs. Talbot, their grown children, and the grandchildren.
“Thank you for coming Hawk.” Charlene said. “We'll see you at the reception in McLean?”
“Yes, Mrs. Talbot. We're heading out now.”
“Well, we'll see you then.”
Ron saw the line form behind him and moved along, mingling with some of the team members and some, he had not seen in many years, who had separated from the Army and went onto different lives.
Sarah stayed at his side enduring the many introductions—some for the first time. Slowly, the crowd thinned, cars and shuttle buses moved out through the Arlington Cemetery gate, and to Mylo's Bar and Grill in McLean, Virginia.
18
Footsteps clattered against the cobblestone coming from a pair of black Newbury ankle booties. They belong
ed to a five foot, seven inch girl wearing Alina' Black tight jeans. She stopped briefly—occupied with the concrete slabs, known as “stelae,” which were arranged in a grid pattern on top of a sloping field.
The girl wore a dark, draped open wool blend trench coat on top of her Ivy wool sweater. A blue and gray Rosette wrap scarf covered her neck. Although it was a cloudy day, she sported a pair of white Illesteva sunglasses and her flowing black hair fell beneath a silver chain-trim, black wool Fedora.
A blond haired, blue-eyed man stood smoking a cigarette. The six-foot, two-inch man was admiring the surrounding rows of concrete slabs, which varied in length, width, and height. He wore a long, black leather jacket and a pair of Classic black leather, laced, Tuxedo shoes. “Interesting design by architect, Peter Eisenman.”
The stylish European girl stopped around the corner from where he stood and replied, “I'm impressed with the engineer, Buro Happold, myself.”
“Indeed, quite ironic to have such a memorial here in Berlin to the Jewish victims of the Holocaust.”
“I always feel sentimental when I come here.”
“Your background is still a bit concerning.”
“That my mother was Jewish?”
“No. Because being a Jew sometimes has associations with the Mossad. Maybe the reason you tell the world your mother is Jordanian.”
“Don't be ridiculous. The Mossad? Besides, my mother is both. A Jordanian-Jew.”
“I wasn't aware.”
“My grandmother is Jewish, my grandfather was Jordanian. They raised my mother in Jordan. There's a lot you don't know about me.”
“Thus the reason you concern me.”
“You shouldn't be. Have I failed you yet?”
“Suppose you tell me. Have you?”
“Well, until this last mission, no. I never have.”
“And the last mission?”
“Yes…yes. I supposed I did fail in a way.”
“Oh? How was this so?”
“You may be pleased to know the minister's daughter has definitely married a loyal and noble man who loves her to death, along with his children.”
“Ahh, I see. This failure. So, your alluring charms did not work on him?”
Chloe wanted to tell him everything but decided to leave the part out about her seductive near success, which in her mind would have worked had it not been for MSG Short's interference. “I was shocked by the fact, they did not.”
The man laughed. “I will be sure to express my sincere admiration to the Minister for the man his daughter has chosen to marry. He will be very pleased to know about his son-in-law's love for his daughter. He knows nothing of your attempts however.”
“What? You told me I was doing this for him…as a test.”
“A test yes, but not for him. He only wants happiness for his daughter.”
“Then who? Why?”
“Not for you to know, at the moment. Nevertheless, Tamarov, along with the rest of the European community will receive your report as a great success, not a failure.
“Hmmm.”
“Yes indeed, the primary target, Abu Waheeb, has been eliminated, thanks to you.”
Chloe chuckled. Perhaps the most amusing part about it is the Americans and French believe it was the Canadians who killed him. The Canadians know nothing about it.”
“Very well done.”
“He called him 'Blackbeard,' you know. You should have seen the way they stood, face-to-face, neither batting an eye. He was not afraid.”
“I detect your admiration for the American, Hawkins. He is quite a warrior.”
“Ron saw his stance as 'good versus evil. It was convincing, to say the least.”
“Of course he would. It is his nature.”
“By the way, he's no fool. He asked me about Russian 'Black Sharks' in the area. He believes he saw one.”
“You convinced him otherwise, of course.”
“Well, obviously. They were careless. I delayed him momentarily but he still nearly got to them.”
The blond man laughed. “He's clever, a bit like you.”
“Why did Alexi wait so long to execute? I began to worry.”
He did not answer. “The American. I met him before…in Afghanistan. Quite a guy.”
“Met him?” Chloe laughed. “You rescued him…and his wife.”
Sergei smiled. “As always, the motherland owes you a great reward for your service. Your new instructions have been dropped in the usual place.”
“Please tell me it's not back to the Middle East. I hate it…what's going on there now.”
Sergei laughed. “Your own homeland? How about a nice European vacation?”
Chloe was a bit relieved her next mission was also not in the United States. “Ooo, la, la, Paris?”
Sergei looked directly at her. “You'll find out soon enough. I have this bad feeling; however, you do not think your last mission is totally complete.”
Chloe smirked. “Whatever makes you think such a thing?”
“I would let it go, if I were you. The minister, Mr. Tamarov, is a very powerful man with a lot of influence…all over the world. He will not appreciate any meddling with his family.”
“You mean like the meddling you were involved in?”
“None of your concern. You will be wise to remember this.”
“Don't worry. I am sure your prestigious organization has a detailed plan for me, which will keep me busy for quite some time.”
Sergei grinned. “And, away from America. Until the next time.”
19
Sarah studied her face in the silver Venetian mirror, looking for any clues that could have the potential of halting a perfect romantic evening. Her oval, green-colored eyes glistened within her delicate and somewhat childish complexion, innocent and pure. When she smiled, exposing her sparkling white teeth, the mirror smiled back, revealing a small, intimate smile with a hint of mischief.
After slipping into her new black ruffle beading, Princess scoop dress, she stole another glance into the mirror, her smile broadening. Not even a year old, Ron bought the V-neck, split, floor-length Chiffon Lace dress for her thirty-second birthday. “Are we ready for the prince?” She said to the smiling image in the mirror.
“Geez, Louise! You look simply mahvoulous, my dear,” Ron said with an emphasis on the “ah” when she emerged from the bathroom.
“Thank you. My boyfriend bought it for my birthday!”
“He's one lucky dude. You, my princess, deserved only the best. It was made for somebody who was absolutely gorgeous!”
“You can cash in on all of your flattery points you just earned…tonight.”
With a beaming smile, Ron pictured the whole evening in his mind. Earlier, Sarah acted surprised when told about an all-expense weekend paid for by General Matthews, his way of showing an appreciation for Ron's successful mission in Iraq. When Ron gave her the details, two nights in the Honeymoon suite at the Opryland Hotel, she expressed great delight. A dinner featuring bourbon-flavored steaks at the Old Hickory was included.
Before their drive to Nashville, however, they would first attend the Special Forces Christmas Ball held at the Officer's Club. The Command decided to coincide the festivities with Ron's promotion ceremony.
“It'll be awesome, baby, just you and me in Nashville. We'll get all spoofed up!”
“I finally get the chance to wear this!” She exclaimed while spinning around.
“You betcha!”
“You'll be in your Blues!”
“Yep!”
“With all your ribbons!”
“Well, how about just…”
Sarah lunged forward and gave him a big hug. “This will be great! We'll look so beautiful together.”
“Yes you will.”
“You will too. I mean, handsome.”
None of their three kids, four with Mariam, were fond of the idea of them going to such extravagance without them. Promises of future activities with Ron's artful negotiation
produced a reluctant surrender to the brief separation. They were just getting accustomed to Ron's return home. Charlene had agreed to come from Elizabethton to stay with the kids for a long weekend.
Heading downstairs, they made a grand entrance before departing, causing more envy and admiration. “Mom, you look so gorgeous!” Asha announced.
“Thank you, honey!”
“Indeed you do!” Charlene echoed. “Let me look at you! You are so beautiful, child.”
“Thanks mom!”
“I was talking about your wife, Ronnie!”
All four of the kids laughed at their dad being scolded by his mother.
“Of course, you look handsome too son…just like your father.”
There was a moment of silence before Charlene quickly announced, “we need a picture!”
“Caleb has a cool, high-speed camera and is an awesome photographer,” Ron said.
Caleb was already up and moving to retrieve his camera. “I'll be back in a jiff!”
Asha walked up to Ron and stated, “This is the uniform dad wore when he took me out on my birthday dinner date!” Asha announced proudly.
“It sure was. I had to look my best to be seen in public by a very pretty young lady.”
Then she moved next to her mother. “Mom, I need a dress like yours for the next time.”
“Oh no you don't.” Sarah chimed in.
“Um, I'll make sure the two of you have the opportunity to go shopping together and mutually select a nice dress.”
Sarah looked at Asha. “Deal?”
“Deal.” Asha replied quickly while giving her mom a high five.
Caleb emerged downstairs with his camera and a couple of different lenses. “I'm ready dad!”
Ron and Sarah posed for a few shots together, then had some taken with Charlene, and ended with photos of the whole clan with the camera set on a timer.
“Mariam, you come in here with the group also.” Ron said.
Love In The House Of War Page 25
