Heroes Proved

by Oliver North

  James reflected for a few seconds, then leaned over the table and said, “Her husband, Seth, was a year behind me at the Academy. I first met Sarah when I was a firsty and she and Seth were dating. They got married when he graduated. I came up from Quantico to be in their wedding. Arch of swords and all that.”

  “Then what?”

  “Before we deployed to the Med in 2020, I saw a good bit of them at Lejeune. He was in my rifle company and they used to entertain all the bachelors. She was pregnant when we deployed. By the time I saw her again at Seth’s memorial service, their son was a couple of months old and she was a beautiful young widow whose husband was killed saving my life.”

  “When was the next time you saw her after that?”

  Newman continued, “She moved back to Woodbridge, Virginia, to be near her parents, and the Marine Corps got her a job with a defense contractor at Quantico. She came to see me while I was still in the hospital at Bethesda. When I was well enough and on ‘light duty’ at Quantico, we went out on a few coffee dates and did lunch on a few weekends. But it was nothing more than friendship. She was lonely, and I was a good shoulder to cry on. When she could find a sitter for Seth, she and I would go out with a group of other singles to the Kennedy Center or Wolf Trap. But we were just friends.”

  Mack nodded and added, “And she’s pretty and despite the tears, she’s fun to be around.”

  “Yeah,” James replied, smiling as he recalled. “It was like that for almost a year, and then one weekend in the fall of 2021, I brought her out to Narnia to ride one of my sister Elizabeth’s horses. Sarah, Mom, and Lizzie hit it off right away. Sarah bought a horse and Mom would babysit little Seth while Sarah and Lizzie went off competing at local events—you know, dressage, stadium jumping, cross-country . . .”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I didn’t see much of Sarah that fall because I recovered enough to go back to full duty and I got orders back to Camp Lejeune. You remember, that was the fall when the UN concocted the idea of a Caliph to get control of things in the Middle East and we pulled all our troops out of Egypt?”

  “Oh, I remember the autumn of 2021 very well,” Caperton replied. “But the turmoil created by the UN’s ‘Caliphate Plan’ didn’t have anything to do with you and Sarah getting married.”

  “No,” James agreed. “That had more to do with my coming home on leave at Christmas. Mom invited Sarah and her parents to the Narnia Christmas party.” Then as he thought about it he added, “In fact, you and Angela were there when it happened.”

  “When what happened?”

  James smiled at the memory and said, “You know the mistletoe my mom hangs from that light in the kitchen every year?”

  Caperton nodded and said, “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s where and when Sarah and I kissed for the first time. And you were there!”

  “And you proposed then, with a hundred people milling about, singing Christmas carols, and drinking your father’s eggnog?”

  “No,” James chuckled. “But that was the first time we kissed. Before I left for Lejeune after New Year’s, we took some long walks together and spent a lot of time talking in front of the fire,” James replied, serious again. “Then, in February, when our whole family went skiing in West Virginia, Lizzie invited Sarah along. I took a long weekend from Lejeune and met them at Snowshoe. Sarah and I skied together, while Mom looked after Seth.”

  Caperton leaned forward and said, “Look, James, I’m not trying to be prurient here, but while you were there did you two—”

  “No, we didn’t,” James interrupted. “Let me spare you the discomfort of asking, Mack. It’s worse than you can imagine. From February on, the only time Sarah and I saw each other was when I could get a weekend off and drive up from Lejeune. And that was always at Narnia—she spent almost every weekend there that spring and early summer.”

  “How is that worse?”

  “Well, here’s how,” James said. “You may remember the Fourth of July in 2022 was a Monday . . .”

  “No,” Caperton said, shaking his head. “I don’t recall what day of the week it was that year.”

  “Well, there are some days a man ought to never forget,” Newman replied. “I know I won’t. Since it was a long weekend, I drove up from Lejeune and got to Narnia late Friday night. Sarah came out early Saturday morning to go eventing with Lizzie. On Sunday we went to church and spent the afternoon around the swimming pool. We engaged in a little horseplay in the pool but nothing else.”

  The senator shrugged and said, “Ah, youth. Sounds tempting but innocent enough so far.”

  James continued: “On Monday, the Fourth, Mom offered to look after Seth while Sarah and I took the canoe down to the Shenandoah to paddle around for a while. When we got back, it was so hot we decided to join Mom, Dad, Lizzie, and one of her med school boyfriends in the pool. Just as we got in, Danny, the farm manager, comes down the hill to tell Lizzie her horse has colic. Mom, Dad, Lizzie, and her boyfriend all jump out of the water and race up to the stable.”

  “And you two stayed in the pool?”

  “Not for long,” James answered. “Sarah said she had to go into the house to check on Seth, who was taking a nap. I went in with her. When we entered the house, the air-conditioning gave her goose bumps all over her body. I put my arms around her to warm her up. Not smart for a guy who pledged to remain a virgin until his wedding night.”

  Mack closed his eyes tightly as though he was trying to squeeze the word picture out of his head. James continued. “We made love for the first time in my parents’ bedroom so we wouldn’t wake Seth.”

  Caperton’s eyes sprang open as though he had touched a live wire. “Do your mom and dad know this?” he asked.

  “Not the part about their bedroom, but they must know the consequences,” James said ruefully. “I drove up from Lejeune the next two weekends, but instead of meeting Sarah at the farm, I stayed with her at her condo in Woodbridge. When I came up the weekend of August sixth, while she was fixing dinner at her place, she told me she was pregnant.”

  “What did you say when she told you that?”

  “Sarah might remember it differently, but I recall telling her I loved her and wanted her to marry me.”

  “And she said?”

  “She didn’t say anything, initially,” James said. “She just put her arms around my neck and cried. Then while we were standing there holding on to each other she said, ‘Okay.’ That’s how I proposed and she accepted.”

  “And that’s how Angela and I got invited to that lovely wedding at the Quantico Base Chapel on September 17, 2022,” Mack said with a smile. “I’m glad we were with the lovely couple on the day they shared their first kiss—even though we missed it—and got to witness the one they made at the altar that day.”

  Newman simply nodded but said nothing. Both men were silent for a moment and then Mack said, “If it matters, I believe you did the right thing by marrying Sarah. But I’m trying to figure out what has happened to the happy couple, since that has turned you into the unhappy man I see sitting across from me now. Do you mind answering a few questions?”

  “No.”

  “Good. How much of what you just told me do your mom and dad know?”

  “Well,” James replied with a shrug, “nobody but Sarah and I—and now you—know the intimate details. Mom, Dad, Lizzie, Sarah’s parents, and anyone else who cares to can do the math. Joshua was born six months and two weeks after we were married. Nobody has ever mentioned it to me, but I’m sure they all know he wasn’t that early.”

  “Do you think Sarah lured you into marrying her?”

  Newman thought before answering, “It’s more complicated than that. She is a beautiful woman. She was lonely. I succumbed to temptation at a time when I felt terrible guilt that her husband, my friend, was killed and not me. I don’t think she got pregnant on purpose and I’m pretty sure neither of us was thinking about the consequences when it happened. To answer your question: No. I don’t
think she lured me.”

  “Okay, let’s try to simplify this a little. On the night she told you she was pregnant, did you mean it when you said you loved her?”

  “Yes,” James replied without hesitation.

  “Do you believe she loved you then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you love her now?”

  Newman was slower to respond this time. After a moment he said, “Yes, I do still love her. But there are a lot of things between us now and it’s more than having four kids to wrangle and homeschool.”

  “Besides having four kids, what else changed, James?”

  Newman groped for words, then spoke quietly. “It was hard on Sarah that I was deployed when Joshua was born in March 2023. But within a few months of my getting home, everything seemed to be working out. I guess the train started coming off the tracks when I started deploying to Afghanistan with MARSOC in 2024. Our first two deployments went okay—there were no gunfights. But the third one, in 2025, when I got wounded again during the big fight at Shindand, knocked Sarah for a loop.”

  “You can see why, can’t you?”

  “Yeah, it was too close to what happened to her first husband,” James answered. “When I got out of the hospital, Sarah told me she wanted me to get out of the Marines. But I was doing well in the Corps and didn’t want to leave. We went to marriage counseling a few times and she stopped talking about it. I thought she was over it. Then there was the big congressional investigation into what happened at Shindand and the jihadist death threats and all. While we were at the safe house, surrounded by federal agents twenty-four seven, somehow she got pregnant with the twins.”

  “Somehow she got pregnant?” Caperton echoed with a smile. “Surely by that point in your marriage you guys figured out what was causing her to get pregnant.”

  “Yeah, we know,” Newman replied, smiling. Then more seriously, he added, “But by the time the twins were born, I think Sarah had just given up on me. That’s why I got out of the Marine Corps in 2026. Now we have this, and I am going to be gone again for Lord knows how long.”

  Caperton leaned back in his seat, thinking. As he was about to speak, the tech sergeant came out of the cockpit and said, “Senator, we’re about ten minutes out of Charleston. Please fasten your seat belts.”

  They did as asked and when the crew chief moved aft to tell the other passengers, Caperton said, “James, I want to help any way I can. You, Sarah, and your boys mean a lot to me. When we land, instead of you going to the synagogue with me, I’m going to have Officer Carter drive you straight to Pawleys. Let me think about what you told me and tomorrow night I’ll come up there and we can talk some more. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Caperton reached into his briefcase, pulled out a gray baseball hat, handed it to James, and said, “Please wear this and your sunglasses on the way to Pawleys. When you get there, try to stay out of sight. We don’t need you showing up on any surveillance cameras. The island is too small for you to hide there for long. The summer crowds are gone and Cair Paravel is fairly private, but we don’t need tongues wagging. If you need to pick up anything, get it on the way—in Charleston or Mount Pleasant. Use cash or the PID I gave you to pay for any purchases. Make sure you use the Lehnert PID for all communications. The law says no government agency is allowed to monitor congressional comms, but don’t contact anyone at CSG or Narnia until I arrive—even Sarah. I should get there tomorrow night, probably around nine. And be sure to keep your implanted PERT masked, even in the house.”

  “Anything else?” Newman asked, amazed the old man had thought of all this.

  Caperton thought for a moment and said, “What kind of PERT implant do you have in your foot?”

  “It’s a second generation, the 2-GenB model everyone in the military had to get,” James replied. “It’s about the size of a grain of rice. I can just feel it between my toes with my fingers.”

  “Is it the kind that has to be recharged every so often?”

  “Yeah. It’s supposed to be recharged at least once a month by putting your foot on a magnetic induction pad. I have one in the car and under my desk at the office. We even have one of them under the sheets at the foot of our bed. Maybe that’s why Sarah gets pregnant so easily.”

  Caperton smiled and said, “I doubt it. But tell me, do Sarah and the boys all have implanted PERTs?”

  “Yes, all military dependents had to get them in case we were assigned overseas, because our PERTs serve as our passports. And of course the twins were born after the government made it mandatory for all newborns because the baby PERTs contain time-release nano-particles for early childhood immunizations.”

  “Right.”

  “Why? Does it matter?” asked James.

  “Well, it’s good to know. Your sister Elizabeth and her husband George are both physicians and they still live at Narnia, right?”

  James leaned forward and said, “I think I know where this is heading, Mack, but Lizzie could lose her license for removing Sarah’s and the boys’ PERTs and I don’t want Sarah and the kids to be considered Anarks.”

  “And you think being considered an Anark would be a bad thing?”

  “Doesn’t everyone think that way?” James replied as the plane touched down.

  “Perhaps not everyone,” mused the senator. “Hold that thought. It will give us something else to talk about tomorrow night.” Then he added, “While you are waiting for me to get there, let me suggest something for you to do—so you don’t get bored.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Between tonight and tomorrow night when I arrive, make two lists for me. Use two sheets of paper—don’t use the PID or your computer.”

  “Shopping lists?”

  “Kind of. On one sheet make a list of every possible positive attribute you possess, no matter how great or trivial. Use the other sheet for the same thing about Sarah. No negatives, just the positive. You get what I’m saying?”

  As the plane taxied to the Air Force terminal, James nodded and said, “Uh huh. I guess that will keep me from getting cabin fever. Since there won’t be anyone else there, I suppose there won’t be much else to do.”

  Caperton rose from his seat to exit the aircraft, turned to Newman, and said, “James, let’s pray you are right about what you just said.”

  * * * *

  U.S. Capitol Police Officer Mark Carter and “SSCI Staff member James Lehnert” rode side by side in the plain vanilla, standard, government-issue Chevrolet hybrid all the way to Pawleys Island. Like most men trying to avoid speaking about what was really on their minds, they talked about sports.

  They stopped at a Piggly Wiggly in Mount Pleasant. Officer Carter waited in the car while James bought a half gallon of irradiated milk, some “USDA-Certified Humane” irradiated chicken, a bag of “Sanitary, Salmonella-Free Lettuce,” and a box of cereal “Guaranteed Union-Grown and Made.” As he placed each item in his shopping basket, the price automatically tallied in both U.S. dollars and Global Exchange Currency Units on the PID Caperton gave him. At the store exit, a “Task-Bot,” its face-panel twisted into a mechanical smile, said, “Thank you for shopping with us, Mr. Lehnert. Your purchases come to 10.1 gex, or $35.24. Shall we put this on your card?”

  James held up the PID and said, “Put it on this—in gex.”

  “Smart move,” replied the machine-generated voice. “We never know what the dollar will be worth tomorrow. Please note an electronic receipt has been sent to your Personal Interface Device. Come in again the next time you are visiting from Washington, D.C.”

  As James entered the car, Carter asked, “Find everything you need?”

  “The produce wasn’t very fresh. We can check at a roadside stand on the way to Pawleys.”

  “I suppose,” said Carter, “as long as you don’t mind eating stuff not government-certified.” But seven miles farther north on Route 17, they pulled over at a roadside fruit and vegetable stand.

  Overshadowing the little stand
was a large electronic, LED-lighted billboard emblazoned with a 15’x25’ moving image of the American flag and eight-foot-high lettering:

  REAL PATRIOTS IMPLANT PERTs!

  At the entrance to the fruit and vegetable stand was an official sign bearing the seal of the Department of Homeland Security:

  WARNING

  PRODUCE SOLD HERE IS NOT USDA INSPECTED.

  DISEASES CONTRACTED BY HUMAN CONSUMPTION ARE NOT COVERED BY ALL-AMERICAN MEDICAL INSURANCE.

  As James started to get out of the car, Officer Carter pointed to the steel-encased national surveillance network camera beneath the billboard and said, “I think I’ll wait in the car. If they have any peaches, please get me a few.”

  Newman pulled the baseball hat down over his forehead, put on his sunglasses, got out, and walked into the little stand. He picked out a dozen apples, four onions, a bunch of carrots, six ears of sweet corn, a basket of fresh green beans, and a dozen peaches. The old black woman at an ancient cash register said, “That comes to eighteen dollars and twenty-five cents, sir. I’m sorry but we’re not allowed to accept electronic payments and we don’t take those new gex. Do you have American cash?”

  James reached into his pocket, took four fives out, handed the bills to the old woman, and said, “Keep the change.” Then, pointing to the warning sign at the entrance, he asked, “Does that sign scare off any customers?”

  “Well, sir,” she replied, “we’re required to have that posted there just to stay open. I’m told South Carolina is one of the few states where people are even allowed to sell produce not prepackaged and government inspected. It doesn’t keep our regular customers away, but tourists don’t stop here anymore like they did when I was a little girl. But of course there are a lot fewer cars on the road nowadays.”

  “I see,” said James. “Thank you.”

  As he turned to leave, the old woman said to his back, “God bless you, sir.”