The Phantom's Valor (Special Missions Unit Book 2)

by Gary Beller

  When Rachel arrived, Sarah was playing a game at the kitchen table, and Carla had just put Hannah down for a nap. Carla came down the stairs and saw Rachel walk in. “Well, how was it today?”

  “Not too bad, spent the morning on the rifle range. I am getting better, hit 55/60 at 300 meters.” Rachel shrugged, dropping her bag next to Sarah’s.

  Carla and Rachel walked into the kitchen, and Rachel began making coffee for herself and Carla. A few of the neighbors outside walked to the street, and the younger woman craned her neck to see what they were looking at. From the kitchen she couldn’t see anything, so she walked to the front door.

  “C……C……Carla!” She yelled, a lump forming in her throat, and tears already streaming down her cheeks. The black sedan was parked in front of the house, and its occupants were walking up to the front door.

  Carla came, looked at Rachel, and then out the door. She gasped, cupped her hands over her face and collapsed. “No…..” She cried.

  Rachel reached for her, then saw Sarah and ran for her as the Chaplain reached for Carla. “Mrs. Bielema…”

  “I know...” She said, spitting the words out through sobs, “He’s gone…..”

  “Yes, Ma’am….” The Chaplain said. Carla stood, looked at the Marine standing at attention in her doorway. “Mrs. Bielema, I’m sorry, but yes, your husband has been killed in action.” As he spoke, the baby monitor on a desk next to the stairs crackled to life, Hannah was crying.

  ***

  CHAPTER 7

  The trip to Earth took five days, most of it spent aboard Teufelhund. The ship’s crew and maintenance teams from Leatherneck had spent a day effecting what repairs they could on the ship, but she would still need to put into dry dock at Luna Station for a more thorough repair and refit. Colonel McMillan estimated the work would take about 3 weeks, which meant the ship would be ready to return to combat about the same time as 1SMU.

  The final leg of the trip from Luna Station down to Earth was made aboard a Civilian shuttle on a routine daily route from Tranquility City to San Diego. The pilot and crew met with Ben and Danny beforehand, and were made aware that the entire team was escorting the remains of Kevin Bielema home.

  As Ben left to ensure Kevin was properly taken care of below, the pilot asked Danny about him. “Who was he?” He asked.

  “Gunnery Sergeant Kevin Bielema, from New Orleans.”

  “Any family, Sir?”

  “A wife and two daughters, and a sister who is at the Academy.” Danny said solemnly.

  “General Hardfighter please give our condolences to Mrs. Bielema and the family.”

  “Will do, Captain.” Danny said.

  The flight was a smooth one, even during atmospheric entry. The presence of 22 Marines and Navy Corpsmen in dress uniforms did not go unnoticed by the passengers, but none of them intruded on them to ask why so many were travelling together. Their questions, however, would be answered soon enough.

  The shuttle landed and taxied to the terminal, but the pilot stopped short. “Attention Passengers, this is your Captain speaking. I have stopped short of the gate to address you for a moment. Some of you may have noticed we have aboard our flight today some uniformed service men and women. They joined us today on a very solemn mission. They are escorting home the remains of a fallen brother, Gunnery Sergeant Kevin Bielema. As we pull to the gate, I would like everyone to please remain seated to allow the Marines and Corpsmen to disembark the ship first.”

  The pilot finished his taxi up to the gate, and the Marines stood and moved towards the exit in single file down the main isle. As they did, words of thanks and condolences passed from the passengers. The Captain and crew, waiting at the front, shook the hands of every one of them, and thanked them.

  On the Tarmac, the Marines formed in ranks on either side of the waiting hearse. Unlike at Leatherneck, here a team of Marines from Ceremonial Services Company 3 stood waiting to serve as pall bearers, carrying the casket to the waiting hearse. Silently, the Operators saluted as Bielema was brought off the ship. Members of the ground crew stood silently by, removing their hats during the short event. Ben thought silently, how many men and women he had commanded had received this same treatment, here or at other spaceports around Earth or its commonwealth worlds.

  ***

  That evening, the Marines of 1SMU gathered on the beach, with their families, and the families of those who had fallen. Carla, Rachel, Sarah and Hannah made a brief appearance, accompanied by the Casualty Assistance Call Officer. There Danny presented her with a special letter.

  The letter was addressed to Carla, Sarah, and Hannah Bielema, from His Majesty, Emperor Krajur XVI of Valderis.

  “Mrs. Bielema, young Sarah and Hannah,” The letter Began,

  “I cannot begin to express enough my condolences to you on the loss of your family’s beloved husband and father. I was informed of his death by my brother, Jarul; Jarul was held as a prisoner of war by the Banor until liberated by Kevin’s unit. I am sure the circumstances have already been passed on to you, know that his noble act of selflessness, to lay down his own life to save not only his friends, but those whom he had not met, will not be forgotten by me, or my family.”

  Carla cried reading the letter. She had been crying for days since she learned of Kevin’s death. She hugged the letter close to her heart, and it would in the future become a family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation. The team gathered around her and the kids and Rachel, hugging them, sharing a moment of grief.

  ***

  The next morning was the day none of the members of 1SMU looked forward to. In a service held in the Chapel at Camp Pendleton, the Base’s chaplain spoke of Kevin’s gift of bringing smiles to the faces of those around him, and his belief that in times like this he would want to be remembered for that. Danny stood as the Base chaplain introduced him.

  “Brigadier General Hardfighter will now say a few words.”

  “Kevin Bielema was one of the finest Marines I ever had the pleasure of serving with. In the field, he was dedicated and motivated, a team player who did everything and anything he needed to do to accomplish the mission. On base, with his team, Kevin was the class clown. He always had a smile, always ready with a joke. Some were better than others, but he was always ready. He was the man his fellow Marines could turn to on a bad day, and when he smiled you knew everything would be all right. His spirit, his character, is what will be remembered. Years from now, those of us lucky enough to have known him will look back and remember those things.” He paused for a moment, looked at the flag draped coffin, and back to the audience. “General George Patton is quoted as having said, ‘It is wrong to mourn the dead, but rather we should be thankful such men lived.’ While I do believe that mourning our fallen is appropriate, we shall always be thankful that a man such as Kevin Bielema lived. Now I would like to introduce Lieutenant Colonel Benjamin Pierce, Kevin’s commanding officer”.

  Danny stepped down and Ben took his place. “For three years, I served as Kevin Bielema’s commanding officer. In Kevin Bielema, I knew I had a man who was dependable, and a man bestowed with a great warrior’s spirit, exceptional skills and insight, and as many have pointed out, a wonderful, charming, and funny demeanor. He was an exceptional Marine to command, and a Marine who could be counted on to take charge when the situation called for it. He reveled in his off-hours silliness and antics, taking great pleasure in bringing happiness and laughter to those around him. That spirit lives on in his daughters, Sarah and Hannah. Just last night, I watched as Sarah and Sergeant Roberts sat on a log, swapping knock-knock jokes and silly puns. She carries on in the way her father did, and the way he would want her to: Courage in the face of adversity; laughter to melt away the sorrow, and putting aside the day’s troubles to enjoy the moment.” Ben paused for a minute, then looked back at the crowd.

  “Everyone here has, in some way, been touched by Kevin Bielema…We, his friends, his family, are blessed to have known him. Nine days ago, o
n a world many hundreds of light years from here, Kevin performed his last act of devotion to his friends and family, and to those whose spirits he lifted, those whom he guided, trained, and motivated. Kevin gave his life so others might live, and in that moment, he became more than a man, more than another face or name on a wall, he became a true hero. I, and many others in this room, and many others around the galaxy, owe him a debt which we may never repay.”

  Ben stepped off the podium, and walked over, touching the flag draped casket. “Thank you, my friend. I will never forget you.”

  ***

  The procession to the cemetery was led by a military police cruiser, its lights flashing in a slow, mournful beat echoing the slow march of those following. As the cruiser made the last turn down the lane, the Sergeant driving gave the signal to the ceremonial detail waiting ahead: The cruiser gave a long, low wail of its siren, the sound giving voice to the silent pain the mourners all felt.

  The Pallbearers stood at attention as the Chaplain recited the last prayer. They then removed the flag from the coffin, and pulled it taught. On cue, the rifle party, standing off to the side, fired a three volley salute, before taps was played and the flag folded. During the flag folding, the members of 1SMU and General Hardfighter saluted. Once the flag was folded, the head of the honor guard turned to Ben. Ben saluted before accepting the flag, and was in turn saluted after receiving it.

  He moved silently, holding the flag in front of him, and took a knee before Carla. Her daughters sat to her right, with Rachel holding Hanna. To her left sat Kevin’s parents. Ben turned the flag smartly so the point of the triangular fold faced him. He held it out, and as Carla took it, he held for a moment. “On behalf of the President of the United Coalition of independent systems, and the Commandant of the Marine Corps, I present you this flag in honor of your husband’s faithful service and noble sacrifice, with the heartfelt thanks and sincere condolences of a grateful nation.” He released the flag, stood tall and saluted as Carla began weeping again.

  CHAPTER 8

  Ben and John arrived in Round Lake, Illinois in mid-afternoon. Ben knew his parents wouldn’t be home, so he instructed the driver to take them to the bakery. The vehicle stopped in front of the bakery and restaurant owned Ben’s parents, Frank and Esther Pierce. The two Marines stepped out, donned their covers in unison, and grabbed their bags before heading in. The Bakery, as it was simply known, also had seating for customers to dine in. The girl behind the counter winked at Ben and John, then turned back. “Frank, Esther,” She yelled and six or so patrons fell quiet.

  “Yeah, Caryn?” Frank’s voice boomed.

  “Hey guys, there are two Marines out here that want to see you.”

  Frank and Esther both came running, and stopped in their tracks. “Now Colonel, you explain to me just what in the hell you are you trying to pull, scaring us like that?” He did his best to sound angry.

  “So, you want me to get back in the car and go back?” Ben asked.

  “Like hell boy, now you come give your mother a hug before she has another heart attack!”

  Ben set his bag down and hugged Esther, and shook hands with Frank. “Mom, Dad, I believe you know Sergeant John Roberts?”

  “Is that any way to introduce a man to his grandparents?” Esther asked, elbowing Ben. “Of course we know him. Your mother is on her way, John.” Esther said, wrapping the younger man in a hug. “My goodness, you’ve grown. What the hell are you feeding these kids, Ben?”

  “Field rations. Who knows what the hell is in those things.” Ben shrugged. A moment later, the chime rang and Marie Roberts walked into the Bakery. “John!” She yelled, running to her son and embracing him.

  “Yeesh, you’d think it’s been forever since she’s seen me.” John laughed, hugging his mother. John had Ben’s tall and bulky stature, easily dwarfing his mother as she hugged him. “It has!” She said defensively.

  “Eighteen months, Mom. I’ve only been gone 18 months.”

  “And look at you, you’re a Sergeant now. What is this on your uniform?” She asked, looking at the badge above his medals. The gold badge featured the Marine Crest emblazoned on a spearhead, superimposed over a crossed musket and saber.

  “It’s the Marine Special Operations Qualification Badge.” Ben said, from behind Marie.

  “Special Operations?” Marie turned and asked. “I thought he was Infantry?”

  “Technically, yes. The Infantry does include portions of the Marine Special Operations Command. Our unit is…Special.”

  “How Special?” Frank asked. “Let’s sit down.” He ushered them to a table large enough for the five of them.

  “It’s really a lot of classified stuff, Grandpa Frank.” John said, looked to Ben with pleading eyes.

  Ben didn’t let him down. “Our unit is a Special Operations Team. It’s a small unit, and our missions require skills that normal Marine Corps Infantry units don’t have. We don’t grab headlines the way units like Praxis’ Corps or Tom’s Brigade do. They have specific missions they take on, as regular ground forces, we have missions we take on as Special Operations that are...Beyond their capabilities.”

  “Like what?” Marie asked.

  “We do things other larger units can’t do, sometimes by ourselves, sometimes with help from similar units. Intelligence gathering, special reconnaissance, Hostage or Prisoner of War rescues, raids against high value targets or targets too deep in enemy territory for a conventional force to hit, Unconventional warfare type stuff.” Ben explained. “Because the way we do things, most of our missions are classified on one level or another.”

  “Seems very cloak and dagger,” Esther said, looking at John and Ben. “Must be pretty hard, knowing that you guys go out and bust your asses like that and other units are getting the headlines.”

  “We don’t do this for fame or glory. If you come to my unit with the idea that you’re going to be some interplanetary hero, you’re in the wrong unit. We’re the quiet professionals. Our reward is going to sleep at the end of the day knowing we did our job, and we did it well. We don’t need a parade down Michigan Avenue or a book deal to be satisfied.”

  Caryn brought out lunch for the five of them, set it out and went back to the register. Ben caught a glimpse of John sneaking a small glance at a piece of paper, suppressing a smile, and winking at Caryn. Ben smiled and shook his head, but let it go.

  “So, John, how do you like being assigned to your father’s unit?” Frank asked.

  “Well, it’s a bit of a weird situation to be honest. Only the two of us and one of the Corpsmen knows about it. But, I have gotten the chance to know him, and it’s been great.” John said.

  “Most fathers take their sons hunting for a weekend or two every year in their teens…I get to take him hunting every day now. I call that a win.” Ben said.

  “Ben…” Marie said, putting her hand on his arm, “I am really sorry I didn’t tell you. I always wanted to, and I know I should have.”

  “I know why you didn’t, and it’s all right. I know why you did what you did, and I am not angry or bitter at all.” Ben said.

  After a long silence, Esther looked at Ben again. “So, Ben, is there any special lady in your life now?”

  “Ahhh” Ben sighed, sitting back. “It’s….Complicated.”

  “Yeah….you could say that.” John laughed, looking at Ben.

  Ben shot a glare at John. “And what exactly do you know about it?”

  “Oh come on…SIR…Everyone in the unit knows about you and Ashlie.” John said.

  “It seems that I am out of the loop on this. Please, John, explain what exactly the entire unit knows.” Ben crossed his arms, his look of indignation only partially feigned.

  “The frequent house calls, the subtle looks in the briefing room…the silly grin you two get every time you’re around each other…” John started. “And let’s not forget that ALL her drinks at the O and E club on Leatherneck go on your tab.”

  “I buy Corpsmen
drinks all the time.” Ben protested.

  “Do you pay for all of Chief Mason’s drinks?” John countered.

  “No…” Ben admitted quietly.

  “And…one last one…On the trip back here she was supposed to be rooming with First Sergeant McMillan…but Kate told me she basically had the quarters to herself because Ashlie was…involved, and after 2100 she mysteriously vanished from the enlisted section every night.”

  “John…Listen to me. There is NOTHING going on between Ashlie and me,” Ben said firmly, “Yes, She and I are friends. But there are some lines I cannot cross.”

  “So…If not with you, where does she go?” John asked

  “That, young man, is not your concern.” Ben said, taking a sip of his drink.

  “So…if it’s not Ashlie, who…” John said, confused.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Ben said dismissively.

  CHAPTER 9

  Shore Leave on Earth was a time of relative ease for the members of 1SMU. Ben spent most of his days hanging out at the Bakery, sometimes helping his parents, sometimes just sitting back and catching up with old friends. John spent a fair amount of time there, too, but being younger he also spent a good deal of time at various parties or going to clubs in Chicago or Milwaukee. And on the first Saturday of their leave, he took Caryn out on a date. Neither of them resurfaced until Monday morning when he walked her to work.

  ***

  Kate McMillan was spending her time off in North Carolina with her family, including her brother, who had been given leave while his ship was being repaired, which was what pretty much everyone on the team was doing.

  ***

  On the second Friday of their leave, the first Friday in June, Ben was making pie crusts in the back of the bakery when the door chimed. Caryn welcomed the customer with more than her usual level of cheerfulness, which Ben attributed to her new relationship with John. He heard a woman’s voice asking a question he couldn’t quite make out over the ovens working behind him. A moment later Caryn poked her head in. “Someone to see you, Ben.”