Introduction
He’s back…
Chapter 1
It was a dark and stormy night…except there were no storms. As the sun crept over the horizon, I found myself wondering…was he back, really? It’s been so long. I thought we were safe. I thought we were free. I thought nothing of him. Until yesterday. I managed to dial up enough courage to get out in the dawn, to jog a couple of miles. With a podcast from Alistair Begg in my ears, I trudged along, trying to keep my pace up. As the sunlight increased, the fear decreased. But then, it hit me. The cigarette carton was gone! Poof. No sign of it. It could only mean one thing. He had come back to remove any evidence of his presence. He was policing his brass, to make sure no one could trace him. If only I had picked up the carton last night. I could have grabbed it. I could have given it to the forensics team for a complete workup. There might have been fingerprints. DNA. But, of course, this was his carton. We would have found nothing on it. Nothing. Why is he back? Why now? Why here?
Chapter 2
The day wound to a close, thankfully. Chaos at work crowded out the thoughts of my unwelcome visitor. What is it about work that just drains the soul of man? Returning home, I settled slowly into that lazy routine we all have. A dinner of exquisitely prepared beef bulgogi, over sticky rice and stir-fried vegetables refueled both me and the dog. Emmanuel by Chris Botti was playing on the vintage McIntosh amp through the Magna Planar speakers, with the sweet strings of Lucia Micarelli soothing the frayed nerves. A deep red Bordeaux swirled in the leaded crystal goblet, and vanished all too soon. Another glass, and another. The bottle vinted with such care was not large enough, but in a few minutes the concerns of the workday left my thoughts. Of course, with work banished from my brain, the fears of the morning crept back in, slowly. Was he really back? Was he alone? I checked the doors, the lights, the cars, and the alarm. With a glance at the bedside table, I noted the position of what I hoped I would never need to use. Could I get to it fast enough? Would my training kick in after all this time? I didn’t want to find out…
Chapter 3
With several ounces of Bordeaux to lull me to sleep, no mysterious bumps in the night, and no curious noises, morning came sooner than I expected. I buttoned down the house, and took the long way to work. SiriusXM “Doctor Radio” playing on the Bose 710 watt sound system “live from the lobby of NYU” kept my mind occupied with inquiries from people who couldn’t get quite enough attention from their personal physician. Another day fielding questions from mid-level and high-level executives, and a dinner meeting that lasted past 8 pm meant the world’s best little white dog was a little lonely. I took the opportunity to walk her around the neighborhood in the fading light. I couldn’t help but scan the streets for signs of him, though. It was too much, seeing the Marlboro carton there on the street only a couple of days ago.
Before I had even made it out of the neighborhood, I could see something. Right there at the “No Trespassing” sign. A Marlboro.
And, then, all the way on the other side of the quiet neighborhood, another Marlboro. I tried to tell myself that a lot of people smoked Marlboro. It was just a couple of them. Probably a coincidence. But then, I saw the Pall Mall. Right next to the Marlboro. Clear evidence that he was not alone. These were near the woods, across the street from the entrance, where they could keep watch on my travels.
We entered the subdivision on high alert. And there we saw another Marlboro. And a Pall Mall. Smoked down to the filter, just like last time.
And something else, something that gave me that sinking feeling…in-ear hearing protection, right there next to the Pall Mall. Orange hearing protection. Only trained military snipers use orange hearing protection. And, there it was, right across the street from my house. Right where they could see in my front window.
It was time to get ready. Past time.
Chapter 4
The Google Pixel 2 XL chirped to life. Unknown Caller. I let it go. In less than ten seconds, it chirped again. Unknown Caller. This time it only chirped once. Then, a moment later, it rang again. I knew it had to be someone I knew. “Hello?”
“Gunnar — time for a beer! When and where?”
“Joe — Joe is that you? It’s been forever…where are you, Nashville?”
“Nah, I’m here, man…waiting for you to tell me when and where. I’m buying!”
“Okay,” I stammered. “You here in Richmond?”
“Yep…heading back to Nashville from Annapolis. Let’s eat…”
“It’s early, but Capital Ale House on Midlothian would be easy for you to find.”
“See you in 30!” and with that, he sounded off.
Joe. Of all the people to call me. Now. I hadn’t heard from him in years. It was Friday, the office was already half empty for the weekend. It was hot. It was humid. It was time for a brew. I shut down the Dell Precision Workstation and headed to the Porsche Cayenne Turbo. Capital Ale House was only fifteen minutes away, at this time of day.
I liked Joe. I always did. From the first day I met him on my freshman hall at Vanderbilt, I could tell he was something special. He graduated with honor, receiving a commission in the United States Marine Corps. He was a Marine’s Marine…his father was a Marine…Joe served over there…and one of his sons is a Marine (and the other is US Army)…it would be great to see him again.
The toll booth arm nearly slammed into the hood as I blazed through the Powhite Expressway toll station. Midlothian Avenue wasn’t so bad, and I found myself at Capital Ale in record time. I walked through the heavy wooden doors and there he was…as fit as he was 35 years ago…with the same clear gaze…standing proud with the posture that only comes from years in uniform.
“Gunnar! I’d know you anywhere! Great to see you!” And with that hearty greeting, we headed to a corner table, far from the growing crowd.
Chapter 5
Joe was dressed in jeans, boots, and carried a black leather jacket, discreetly embossed with a Harley-Davidson logo.
“Don’t tell me you’re on two wheels all the way from Nashville?”
“Yep…the weather looked good, and I had to make a fast turn-around. What’s good here?”
I recommended a Gulden Draak from Belgium, or a Stone I’m Peach double IPA from Stone Brewing nearby. 
We talked over the cold brews, about wives, kids, jobs, and life. We talked like men who had just spoken yesterday, when it had been 35 years. Time passed quickly, with story after story being traded. Our waitress brought another round with a plate of Jagerschnitzel for me and a New York strip for Joe.
“So you’ve been seeing signs of someone near your home?” Joe inquired. “And you’re worried?”
“It’s just too much. Last year we had cigarettes in the yard, right near the cars, and now the same brand, and same places. Even the same times of day.”
“And you don’t think this is just a neighbor walking the dog?” Joe counseled. “Maybe even someone you know?”
“I used to. I wanted to. It makes the most sense,” I offered. “But, something tells me it’s more than that. I wanted to believe it was normal everyday neighborhood activity, but it’s happening too much.” I showed Joe a picture of a Marlboro pack on the road, right where the carton had been a few days ago.
It wasn’t on the road at 9 pm when Sandy and I walked in, but it was there at 0530 the next morning when I went out for a jog, before the heat became unbearable. You can even see the moon in the sky, it was so early. “Who is staking out my house between dusk and dawn?”
Joe took a long draught from his Gulden Draak, and paused to look at me directly. “Look…what you’re seeing, you’re not supposed to see. You’re too aware.” I raised my eyebrows with some confusion. “You…your home…your life…it matters to people. I can’t tell you who.”
“This trip to Annapolis…you sure it’s not to Quantico?” I asked. I knew his son was already in the Fleet Marine Force flying fighters, and he had no reason to go back to the Naval Academy for a visit.
“I came a long way for a friend, that’s all I can say.” He smiled. “It’s going to be OK. Just stay aware, stay prepared, and stay ready!”
“Stay ready…ready for what?” I demanded. Joe looked at me with intensity. “You’ll know. Just stay ready.”
He glanced at his Casio G-Force watch, and looked at the darkening sky through the window. “I’d better get on the road…Nashville’s a long way from here.”
We walked out into the parking lot as the lights flickered on, and I followed him to his Harley. It was all black…matte black…like his helmet…like his jacket. He slid his glasses on and cranked the big V-Twin to life with a roar. Pulling leather gloves on, he turned towards me. “Come see me some time!” he smiled. “It’s only about ten hours!”
With a wave, he gunned the engine and headed out. I could see him heading west on Midlothian, and heard the engine slowly fade away.
Stay ready? Ready for what?
Chapter 6
I slid into the exquisite tan leather 18-way adjustable adaptive sport seat of the Porsche Cayenne Turbo.
I wanted to push a button and turn it into a La-Z-Boy, as tired as I was. Wait a minute! How did Joe know my phone number? How, unless Facebook had it, somewhere, and I forgot to lock it down. I made a mental note to check my account. Interstate 288 took me over the James, and I headed west on US 6 towards the homestead. I liked living out from the city, most of the time. It felt safe. With the land and the woods surrounding the home, I had peace. I pushed the 541 hp turbocharged V8 a bit, coming around the curves, and slowed to avoid the ever watchful deputies in Goochland.
I turned into the long and winding driveway, and made my way through the woods. About halfway there, I had to stop. The house — it looked different. The lights, they were wrong. Instead of a well-lit interior, visible from a distance, it was dark. The solar-powered driveway lights were glowing, beckoning me to continue towards the garage, but I couldn’t go there. I pulled off the drive, killed the lights, and opened the door. “Crikey, that interior light is bright.“ I whispered to no one. I pulled the door closed quietly and switched off the light. There in the darkness, I opened the center console to retrieve a Ruger LCR I always kept there. This small but powerful revolver fit so nicely in the console, and…”where is that dadgum revolver?” With an exasperated sigh, I realized it was in the safe, in the house, because I had recently taken the Cayenne to the dealer for servicing. “Oh well,” I thought. “Joe said to be ready. I’m ready. I’m ready to get my butt kicked.”
I walked the rest of the way to the house, staying on the left of the drive in the treeline. I listened at the door, but heard nothing. Turning the deadbolt with my key, I eased the door open and slipped inside. No alarm tones. Not good. Sandy the little white dog did not rush to greet me with a wagging tail. Not good. I went straight up the fancy stairs, as fast as I could, up to the master where I knew I could find my Sig P229. There, in the bedside safe, I grabbed it. I switched on the laser of the WML, but left the LED beam off. Slowly I made my way around the upstairs rooms, painting each wall with a bright red laser dot. Nothing. I went down, the back stairs, towards the kitchen and back door. On the island, barely visible in the loaming darkness, I could make out a wine bottle in a cooler. The ice surrounding the bottle had all but turned to water. Who would break in and drink a bottle of wine?
I went to the sink, and peered out the window to the deck. The tiki torches were lit, and barely flickering in the gentle breeze.
OK…wine, tiki torches…and someone, on the couch, outside. There on the table, visible in the dim torch light, was a wine glass, tipped over and empty. As quietly as I could, I opened the unlocked back door and eased towards the couch. In a flash, a figure bounded up and rushed towards me! I started to raise the pistol…but stopped quickly. It was Sandy. Only Sandy. She excitedly said her hello, with that typical Goldendoodle energy. The reclining figure on the couch slowly rose, and in a very sleepy but familiar voice asked “Where have you been? And what are you doing with that gun?”
Chapter 7
“Let’s go inside,” I implored as I took her hand. “So nice to see you…but…quite a surprise!”
“That’s the whole point, silly.” With tiki torches dying, we walked inside. “Pour me another glass of wine, dear.” I set the Sig P229 down on the kitchen counter, and managed to get about half a glass out of the now room temperature bottle of Chardonnay. We sat on the family room couch, her legs draped over mine, and the interrogation began. “Where in the world have you been? I’ve been here since before dinner. Lucky for Sandy I came. Do you always leave her all alone all night long?”
I tried to remember why I was in love with this woman. I tried really hard. I think it was probably her shimmering blond hair. Or maybe it was her crystal clear blue eyes. Or maybe that she was so damn smart. Really. She was so smart it was scary. I remembered the first time I saw her at the Agency. She was giving a presentation on geopolitical players in some remote backwater country somewhere in the 10°-40° window, that we had to defend from aggression. She had every fact down, every scenario planned, every contingency outlined, and every person in the room staring at her in a combination of admiration and disbelief.
I guess I loved her because she was the only woman that ever loved me. Really loved me. I had no idea why. It wasn’t my leading man looks–I’d been rejected for a bit part by my high school drama teacher. It wasn’t my money. I had managed to spend what little I had on so many trivial hobbies that years ago I couldn’t scrape together enough for a decent ring. It wasn’t my car…a 1983 Volvo 240 DL four-door in beige. Beige? For whatever reason she loved me. And, without question, I loved her. I loved her without question. I loved her with devotion.
I couldn’t wait to marry her. But I was used to waiting. Every so often she would come back to me for a visit. I’d dream that the waiting would be over. That we could finally settle down. That the chaos of life would be diminished, just enough. But the visits were never long enough. The late night candlelight dinners were followed by early morning breakfasts…alone. I don’t know if you’ve ever tasted tears in your coffee. That’s why I add cream and sugar.
Chapter 8
“Where were you?” she asked again. I explained the unexpected call from a college friend, the chance to meet for dinner, and that our conversation went 35 years long. As I started to share the insights from Joe on the Marlboros, I glanced over at this amazingly beautiful woman. Her eyes were closed, and her faint smile remained as she breathed in and out softly. A good Chardonnay always made her sleepy. That’s what I always told myself when she fell asleep at my stories. Gently I eased away from the couch. I found the treasured Afghan blanket made by my grandmother so many years ago, and placed it over her now reclining form. It had been a long day, and the rack beckoned.
The morning sun blazed through my bedroom window, bringing the reveries to an end. I glanced down at Sandy the little white dog. “Time for a run?” She wagged her tail and dashed over to her pink harness and leash. We made our way down the front stairs and out the door in short order. As we got to the entrance to the subdivision, Sandy did something unusual. She sat down. She had never just sat down before. She wouldn’t move. I looked at her, she looked at me, and then she looked at the street right in front of her. There it was, a Marlboro!
“Have you been watching Live PD again?” I asked as I praised her. Countless hours of police drama had been viewed by the two of us, but I never thought she would train herself to act like a K9 indicating on drugs. You never know if dogs actually watch TV. And you never know who is watching you.
Chapter 9
I tried to put the Marlboro Sandy found out of my mind, as we started a short run. Jogging with Sandy always helps me clear my head. Even when I’m dead tired, getting out and running around the subdivision gives me time to think. Some days I don’t know what I’ll think about, but by the time I get back to the house, the marvelous human mind has subconsciously sorted through a challenge or two. Sandy is gracious to allow me a couple of miles to just work the problems, and after about twenty minutes we are usually both ready to head in.
Today, I had two challenges that pounded in my head with each stride with my Brooks Ghost shoes. One…who is watching me? Two…why is she here? No matter how hard I tried to figure out who was watching me, thoughts of her crowded out that question. She was here. Now. After all these years. The same day I reconnect with Joe, she shows up. If only I had known, I could have been at home. We could have had dinner. We could have talked. Damn!
“Well, Sandy, let’s get ready for work!” I switched off the Fenix 5 watch tracking my feeble progress, swung open the heavy wooden door and headed for the kitchen.
I was all set to crack open a Muscle Milk and wolf down a few Wheaties when I smelled the breakfast. Coffee, bacon, eggs, and pancakes? And there she was, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and her blue eyes dancing with the light of the streaming sun. Still here. With a smile and a warm “Good morning, dear,” she offered a steaming mug of java. So many mornings by myself. This morning, my dream continued even though I was wide awake. “Good morning, Della Mae!”
Chapter 10
Breakfast with Della Mae was better than the brunch at The Jefferson Hotel. I must have had three cups of coffee while I filled her in on my conversation with Joe and all the clues. “Joe seems certain you should be ready for something. Maybe it was me?” she offered. I laughed. “If only Joe knew you! Oh geez, I have to get to work or they will go ballistic. I have an 8:30 conference call with Europe–I guess I’ll just dial in from the Porsche.”
“Why don’t you take the truck today?” Della Mae suggested. “I need to take Sandy shopping.”
“You’re staying?” I looked at her with utter surprise.
“Yes, silly! We haven’t seen each other in so long, and Sandy misses me too.”
With that, I rushed to get ready for work and jumped in the old truck. I found it one day a few years ago while cruising the back roads between US 15 and US 522. It was on the side of the road with a For Sale sign in the windshield. As a young man, I had always loved the style and features of the mid-90s Ford F150, and made impulsive purchase that day. The truck did need to be driven, now and again, so I fired it up and motored down US 6 towards work.
The conference call thankfully ended with no action items on my part, and I hopped up the stairs to my office. I was all set to quietly check Outlook, catch up with colleagues for a bit, when I saw the boss. “Hey, you got a minute?” she asked pleasantly. Whenever she was pleasant, it was not good. I could only imagine what I was about to get myself into. “Hey, the plant, they’re having trouble with the formulation you put together. They’ve tried everything they can think of, and can’t replicate the success you had here in the lab. We’ve got to get you over there to help them with the process. They need you there tomorrow.”
My heart sank. Not because of the plant problem–that was just work. I couldn’t believe that Della Mae was at my house, and here I had to go to St Louis, MO. For who knows how long. I called her and shared my frustration. “Don’t you worry a bit! I’ll just stay here with Sandy until you get back!”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “I don’t know how long it will take to eliminate this process problem; it could be a day or a week.”
“No worries! I need a place to relax, and your home is delightful. I’ll keep Sandy company and we’ll have a great time.”
I asked the new travel agent to book me direct to St Louis, and jumped back in the truck to pack a bag. Thankfully the old truck had a great stereo for the commute home. I forgot there wasn’t a toll booth smart tag, and nearly crashed into the bar before I realized my faux pas. Horns blaring behind me, I thrust a dollar at the attendant and sped off as fast as the 300 cubic inch six-cylinder would go. Not fast enough!
Chapter 11
With the flight to St Louis leaving at 2:31 pm, I had just enough time to get home for a small rollaboard with clothes for a week. I hated to go, but duty called. Della Mae offered to take me to RIC, and after a quick lunch of turkey bacon, farm-fresh tomatoes sliced thick, avocado, and toasted sourdough bread, we headed out. Sandy snoozed in the back seat, and the Cayenne sailed eastward on I-64.
“I hate to leave,” I offered. “Don’t be silly…you need to visit the plant for a few days and solve a problem. I’ve got this.” Della Mae was always a take charge woman. I knew the home would be in good hands. We got to the airport in plenty of time, and for some reason the Airport Police did not take kindly to our extended good-bye in the drop-off lane. “Sir — you’ll have to keep moving right along…”
“Go…go!” Della Mae smiled. “We’ll be fine!” I watched her drive away, and trundled the luggage into the American Airlines queue. Glancing at the ticket, I saw that it was not a direct flight. The new travel agent had failed again. I checked in and made it through security without issue with my TSA Pre-Check. Two hours in the CLT airport though. Maybe they still had a live jazz piano bar in the main concourse.
I realized that I’d be in STL in time for late dinner, and was staying downtown near the plant. I took a chance — fired up the way-back machine — and called Mike. Mike had worked with me at the Agency. We were assigned to a particularly challenging case for nearly two years. It’s still classified, but some details have leaked out. Suffice it to say that the case nearly killed us. When you go through something that traumatic, you never forget the guy in the proverbial foxhole with you. Mike was there with me. I was hoping he could break away. The Pixel 2 XL found his contact info, and as usual these days, voicemail kicked in.
“Mike — I’m coming to see you. Need to catch up. Be at Paddy O’s at 8!” I figured I would at least be able to buy him a beer after Uber brought me to the nearby hotel. I texted him the Yelp review info for what I hoped would be a great night out.
As the helpful AA associate guided us to the Airbus, the phone dinged with an incoming text. I glanced in high hopes Mike was confirming our meeting. It wasn’t Mike. It was Della Mae. She had made it back to the house already. I started to put the phone away as I got settled in my seat, but it dinged again. “I miss you already.” I slipped the phone back into my shirt pocket and said hello to my seat mate on the short hop to Charlotte. Ding…the flight attendant glared at me…I fumbled with the phone to set it on airplane mode, but saw her text…”I love you.”
“Sir! Airplane mode — now!”
“She loves me,” I said to no one in particular. “She loves me.”
Chapter 12
After a thankfully routine stop in CLT, where I had been stranded so many times before, I found myself in the St Louis airport. Uber wanted $36 plus a tip to get me to the restaurant, but it was cheaper and faster than renting a car. I was tired. I was hungry. I was ready to go. The pickup point was jammed with travelers, but I found my driver. He was not from STL, but he sure knew his way around STL. In less than 30, the friendly young lady at Paddy O’s had me sitting at a high top. Years ago, I would have ordered a Budweiser to pay homage to the local brewery, but today, Anheuser-Busch even owns Devil’s Backbone Brewery way back home in Virginny.
“Give me an Eight Point IPA,” I asked the gentleman behind the bar. In a few minutes, a tall cold one was offered, dripping with foam and hoppy goodness. I looked at my phone again. I must have looked at it a hundred times on the Uber ride. She loves me.
“Maestro!” I looked up, and there he was. Older, wiser, but still Mike. “Gosh it’s good to see you!”
“It is indeed!” Mike rejoined. “Why in the world are you in St Louis?”
I explained that once again I had failed to create a formulation that could be produced without issue, and I was here to make sense of the catastrophe. It was all my fault, of course.
“Well, at least you aren’t dealing with statistical studies of website clicks and whether or not the ad worked or not!”
“Heidi…bring my friend a…what are you having?”
“I’ll have two of whatever he’s having!” With that we began reminiscing about the good old days. We were stuck in that foxhole, together, and had to succeed or else. There’s nothing like it to bring two men together.
“Your kids…your wife…?”
“Everything is awesome…my son’s already graduated and accepted to UT Knoxville in Statistics. My daughters are right behind him, but thankfully heading in a more productive direction.”
Mike started to ask about my kids…I could tell…and remembered I had never managed to get married. He looked down at his near empty glass and motioned for another.
“It’s OK…life is good…and you’ll never guess who showed up,” I offered.
“No way. No way!” he intoned. “She’s back?”
“Yep…not sure why, not sure for how long…but she’s at my house taking care of Sandy the little white dog.”
“You two were incredible together! What ever happened?” he quizzed.
“As the Alan Jackson song says “I was willing, but she wasn’t ready.”” I mourned. “I really hoped it would work out. I don’t know…”
“Maybe this is the right time? Speaking of time, what time is it?”
We looked at our phones. Nearly midnight. The chairs were being upended, the place was being mopped, and clearly we were the last of the Mohicans.
“It’s on me,” I shook my head, refusing his $20 bill. “It was great to see you again…”
“Let’s not wait 20 years next time! Say hey to Della Mae for me!” With that, Mike walked out the the bar and into the darkness that is any big city in America. I didn’t know if I’d ever really see him again.
I didn’t know I’d ever see Della Mae again, until yesterday. Yesterday. All my troubles seemed so far away.
Chapter 13
It was early. But I was late. Late for work. The plant always got started early, but after a fun night with Mike, even the sun streaming in the plate glass window overlooking the arch couldn’t shake me awake. So much for an early morning workout. Two cups of lukewarm coffee from that tiny coffee maker in the room and a quick shower would have to do. I checked for an Uber, but they were all so busy. Lyft was the same. I looked outside and saw an old-fashioned cab, marked LaClede Cab. I dashed out to grab a ride to the plant just over the river.
“Good morning, sir!” the far-too-awake driver grinned. “Where to this fine morning?” I gave him the address of the plant across the river, and in a few minutes we were heading over the mighty Mississippi. Looking around, I realized I had left my laptop and bag at the hotel. Wonderful. Late for work and no laptop. It was going to be a great day.
Just then the text tone chirped. It was all I could do to avoid grabbing the phone like a teenage kid to see who it was. I was hoping it was her. And it was.
Do you have an outside broom and dustpan?
–Yes…back of the garage door
Thanks
–Why?
Need to clean up some broken glass
–Where?
At the mailbox
–My mailbox?
Yes! Nothing to worry about.
–I’m worried
As the cab went south along the river, I called Della Mae. “Broken glass?”
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
“Yeah yeah…good morning…what’s this about broken glass at my mailbox?”
“I don’t know, just a lot of broken glass shards right there where Sandy normally walks. I’ll clean it up and we’ll be fine.”
I didn’t want to tell Della Mae that someone, maybe two someones, were watching my house.
“Does it look like a beer bottle or something?”
“No, really strange…it’s like someone broke something clear…something like a bottle of gin, but it’s weird. It’s just right where Sandy normally checks for her neighborhood friends visits, just enough glass to step on. The bottle is not there. Just a few shards, in just the right places.”
My mind raced with the possibilities. Let’s see, someone who lives in my neighborhood was walking past my house with a bottle of gin. They stumbled, dropped the bottle, and kept walking. I don’t think so. Or, the people watching the house knew Sandy was finding evidence of their presence, and wanted to make it hard on her. If Sandy didn’t go out for exercise, with cuts to her feet, I wouldn’t go out. And, they would be safe from observation.
“Della Mae…thanks for noticing the glass…I don’t know if it’s anything…just be careful…”
“I will. You go out there and slay the dragons at the plant! We’ll be just fine. Come home as fast as you can. I love you.”
With those words echoing in my ears, the cab pulled up to the gate. “Gotta go…at the plant…love you too!” I hadn’t said those words in far too long. The dragons? They were in trouble today. I was a knight in shining armor again.
Chapter 14
The guard at the gate made sure I was who I claimed to be. In no time at all, one of the princes of the company came rushing out to greet me. I don’t know what we would do without him. Tireless, selfless, and supportive people are so hard to find. Jon was a man who in another time and place would be a wizard in a flowing robe embroidered with stars and moons. So many times he had waved his own magic wand, and created solutions out of thin air. I was hoping that today would be one of those days.
“Sorry to bring you out here on short notice!” he exclaimed. “You need some of the world’s worst coffee?”
“Better not top of the tank just yet. I will need to sleep tonight and whatever you guys put in the brew lasts a long time!”
“How do you think we get anything done here?” Jon laughed. It was good to see him happy. Life had treated him with two challenges, and each time he reached deep inside and conquered them. With a smile. He is an amazing guy.
“Let’s see if we can figure this out. It can’t be the formulation, you know.”
“Of course not!”
We walked over to the myriad of tanks and pipes and pumps and clambered over them as we headed to the control room. The supervisor looked up from the control panel and seeing Jon, jumped up. Jon was that kind of guy.
“Why don’t you show us the problem,” Jon asked. The supervisor brought a sheaf of paper with a sample and started talking. Jon listened intently. “So, you’re saying the batch is low on vanadium? What do you think about…hey…hey…”
I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked up. “Sorry…sorry…I was just trying to contact Della Mae.”
“Della Mae? I thought that was a long time ago?”
“It was. And it is. She came to see me a couple of days ago. What do we have here?” I quizzed as I looked at the sample and the batch sheet. “This is interesting…what’s this?”
Jon looked at the line item I had pointed to. “Oh my!” He sighed. I looked back at the Pixel 2 XL, where a text to Della Mae remained unanswered. Jon looked at the supervisor and they walked together out to the unit. I could see Jon pointing to the drum of material, the batch sheet, and the formulation. The supervisor looked at Jon, shook his head, and walked away.
“Well, that was interesting. Somehow your formulation was made using ….” Jon looked at me. “Hey, what’s wrong? You seem a million miles away?”
“Sorry…it’s just I can’t raise Della Mae. We had some trouble at home, and she hasn’t replied. I’m worried. I can’t help myself. She’s all alone and I’m so far away…”
“Well, you won’t be far away for long. We found the problem. Explaining it will be a challenge, but it’s not the formulation. That I can assure you!”
“Really? You found the problem?”
“Yep. The next trial…we’ll knock it out of the park. Don’t you worry!”
I looked at my watch. It was barely 9 am. “You want to get some breakfast?” I asked. “I am starving. All I had was coffee in the room…”
Jon nodded…and we headed back to the office area. “I’ll take you to a great little place on this side of the river. The biscuits and gravy are incredible!”
We left the plant, and jumped into his 2006 Buick LaCrosse with paint pockmarked with deposits from the nearby smokestack. In a few minutes we were staring at menus. After Carly had taken our order, he looked at me, as only a brother can, and asked “Are you in love?”
Chapter 15
Sitting there with Jon at the diner, I had noticed at a nearby table a man sitting alone. He was balding, and dressed in a dirty tee shirt that said “Grateful Dead” with a bear wearing a hat playing a violin. Being a violinist, of course it had caught my eye.
He had been there for a while, and you could tell he wasn’t happy. It was not that it was too early in the morning. It was not the weather — with glorious blue skies surrounding us and a gentle breeze over the big river, most folks would be relaxed. But there he was, snapping at the waitress, demanding more cream for his sixth cup of coffee, never looking up, shoulders slumped over, and staring at his phone. I was pointing him out to Jon, when a woman walked in. She slid next to him, on the same side of the booth, and in a moment, in a flash, his entire being changed. His face morphed from sallow and sullen to animated and amiable. His shoulders went from sagging to parade ground straight. He had tried to stand up as she came to the booth, bumped his head on the light over the table, and instead of cussing, he laughed. She laughed as well, and a discreet kiss followed. A light switch couldn’t have changed him more quickly.
“He sure seems happy,” Jon remarked quietly. “Maybe all it takes is six cups of coffee?”
“That’s how I feel, Jon. You just can’t imagine. A couple of days ago, I was just like him. Life was, well, life. I felt like every day I was…I was…well, you know…the south end of a northbound mule. And then she showed up. She came back. She came back!”
“I can tell!” Jon enthused. “It’s good to see you happy again! But you keep looking at that incredibly huge phone…what’s so important?”
As if on cue, the phone pinged with a text. Della Mae sent me the news of the morning. Sandy, the little white dog, had not wanted to go on a walk. She seemed to be in some pain, and was content to just lay on the cool hardwood floor. Della Mae had gone out for a jog without her.
“Excuse me for a second…” and Jon waved his hand as if to say “go ahead.” Carly came over to top off our coffee, and in a matter of minutes our steaming hot big breakfasts were in front of us.
“What’s going on?” Jon asked, seeing the concern written all over my face.
“Well, Della Mae is not used to Sandy and her hips. I think she probably walked her too far yesterday. I was just letting her know to let Sandy rest. Wait…there’s more…”
“Have I taken up smoking? What?” Jon looked at me with a curious tilt of his head…smoking?
In a few texts more, Della Mae let me know that on her jog, she had seen…cigarette butts.
“Where?”
“At the front porch.” Before I could even ask if the butt was a Marlboro, she sent another…
“And at the middle of the driveway right at the curve.” I started to send another reply…
“And at the back deck…right off the steps leading to the path to the woods”
I didn’t know what to say to Della Mae. If I told her my fears, well, she would be even more afraid. If I lied, she might not be prepared for whatever was happening. Definitely not the time for a text. I reached for the phone and called…it rang…and went straight to voicemail. Leave a message? With three cigarette butts perfectly triangulating my house? With Della Mae right in the middle?
“Jon…I have to get home…now!” With a clatter of cheap silverware and the now empty coffee mug hitting the floor as my long limbs hit the table legs, I headed to the cashier and left a $20 bill. Jon took one last swig of coffee and followed me out the door.
“What’s going on?”
“I gotta go! Can you get me to the hotel…and tell me…when’s the next flight home?”
Chapter 16
As we dashed to Jon’s car, I could tell that he was both alarmed and yet analytical. That was Jon. I shared with him the concerns I had…people…more than one…watching me…watching my house…and watching Della Mae.
“Can’t you just call the police?” he asked. “Surely they can come out and do something!”
“What am I going to say, Jon. I found cigarette butts. Time and time again? That I don’t smoke. They’re not going to believe me.” I shared with him the ominous warning given to me by Joe.
“That’s weird. That’s really odd. A fellow you haven’t seen in years visits you and says to be ready?”
“I know. It’s just too weird. And now I’m way over here, and she’s way over there all by herself. Hey, you never told me what you found out about the first trial production run?”
“Oh, yeah, let’s just say there was a bit of confusion on the word vanadium. A supplier sent us some gallium sulfate…vanadium…gallium…anyone might be confused. Your formulations are not quite what we are used to making…” his voice trailed off.
“I see…so you think the next batch will be okay?”
“Absolutely. I think we call this mystery solved…I wish yours was as easy!”
“Maybe I can grab the next flight back…which one do you normally take?”
“There are three flights that leave just after 11. You might just make one. If not, there’s one at noon through Chicago.”
“Thanks Jon, thanks for everything!” As Jon parked the car at the curb, I dashed out of the ancient Buick and ran to the front desk of the hotel, asking the clerk “When’s the next shuttle to the airport? Oh, wait, I need to check out…I’ll be right back.”
The elevator in the historic hotel was so slow. I wanted to get out and run up the 11 flights of stairs, but knew it was just my anxiety talking. I flung open the suitcase and threw in the dirty clothes from the dresser drawer, right on top of my carefully folded Gold Label Roundtree & York shirts. I nearly forgot my shaving kit, but grabbed it and stuffed it in the side pocket. Scooping up the laptop bag, I ran to the elevator and pushed the down button at least twenty times. After an eternity, I was back in the lobby. “I’m back!” I exclaimed breathlessly to the front desk clerk.
“Sir?” the uniformed associate asked. I looked up and realized I was talking to someone entirely different. “Oh…I have an unexpected change of plans…need to check out…can you call a taxi for the airport, please?”
With every mile of the taxi, I checked my watch. I might just make the 11:05 am flight through Atlanta. Traffic at this time of morning was light, and the taxi driver was content to just drive. I picked up the phone at least five times along the way to call Della Mae. Voicemail. No rings. Just voicemail. My heart pounded. I tried to tell myself that it was her battery. She was probably just out of power. Why didn’t I put in a landline way out in Goochland? Oh well. The terminal approached and the taxi driver asked “Which airline sir?”
“What? What airline?”
“Yes sir…what airline?”
“I don’t know…I don’t know…just get me there…here…the main building…thanks…”
He swiped my corporate travel card and I scribbled my customary signature on the receipt. I opened the door and swung my laptop bag on my back. Walking into the terminal, I scanned for the 11:05 am flight…there it was…Delta! Just above…the 11:02 am on American through Philly. I hated flying through Philly. Ever since I was stranded there one night on the way to Allentown. But, it got me to Richmond 45 minutes faster. Swinging to the left, I decided to try the 1st class line, and begged the associate for forgiveness as I cut in front of a long line of travelers.
“I’ve got to get home. I can’t get a hold of her! Please…”
For whatever reason, the American Airlines associate decided to let me on that plane. Maybe it was the fear in my eyes. Maybe it was the tremble in my voice. I don’t know. I was just glad to be zooming as fast as I could through the 1960’s vintage terminal building on the way to AA flight 5068. I thrust my boarding pass at the gate agent and heard “Welcome, Mr. Grey…Seat 2A. Enjoy your flight!”
Chapter 17
Seat 2A? Surely there was some mistake. I looked down as I trundled the rollaboard through the jetway…First Class. I hadn’t flown first class in forever. I think I was upgraded by mistake once on a flight to Japan. I handed the Tumi rollaboard to the gate luggage staffer, as the regional jet wouldn’t hold it on board. Oh well, I didn’t care if I ever saw the bag again. Seat 2A. There it was.
It was probably the best seat for me. All alone, on the port side of the CRJ-700. Legroom, a place for the laptop bag, and no one with whom to share the journey. I looked at my Pixel 2 XL battery and decided to find a charger outlet right quick…only 7% left. I guess all my attempts to call Della Mae had drained what little battery I had left.
I pulled the Kindle out and slipped it into the seat pocket. I wasn’t in a mood to read, but knew I needed to keep my mind occupied. After taxiing for what seemed like an hour, we climbed upwards and headed towards PHL. Thankfully the winds aloft were fast and heading there too, and the captain assured us we would be on time or a bit early. I fired up the Kindle and found it open to my download of the Os Guinness book The Call — Finding And Fulfilling The Central Purpose Of Your Life. My small group pastor had recommended it to me. I remembered starting the book a couple of weeks ago, but had only skimmed the intro. I needed a book like this, now. With each flip of the screen, I found myself relaxing. There was something about the clarity of the devotional that gave me comfort.
“Sir…would you like something to drink?”
“Yes, a can of Coke would be great right about now.” I found myself talking slower, with a bit more empathy for my fellow man.
“Pretzels or chips…no peanuts, I’m afraid…”
“Just a Coke, thanks.” As the attendant passed by, the fellow across the aisle looked at me and his baritone voice boomed “How’s it going, pardner?”
I realized that my quest for solace might best be satisfied with conversation. “Doing okay…just heading home…managed to solve a problem quicker than I thought.”
“That’s great! I’m heading for home too.” His long silver hair was full of waves. His deep blue eyes matched his dark blue suit, with the faintest of pinstripes showing. His starched white shirt was open at the collar, the white contrasting with the deep tan of his neck and chest . He leaned over the aisle and extended his hand. “Lawrence Dysart…glad to meet you…?”
As I took his hand, I saw the college ring with that well-worn smoothness that comes only with age. “Gunnar….glad to meet you as well. Where’s home?” His grip was strong, but what struck me was how cold it was. Ice. Truly like ice.
“Today…home is Washington, DC. Yesterday, it was St Louis. The day before that, it was Chicago. Before that, I was in New York.”
“Wow…you don’t stay one place very long!”
“Not in my line of work. Can’t stick around after the job’s done. Home is always the next place. At least, that’s how I look at it. Keeps me from feeling too sad.”
“I see. Well, I’m heading a little further south today…Richmond.”
“Ah, I remember Richmond. I was there once. I forget the job, but it went pretty well. Nice town. Do the Braves still play there?”
“Sadly, no, but we have the Flying Squirrels now. It’s still a fun evening, watching the boys of summer.”
“Maybe I’ll get down to Richmond next…I never know…I just go where I’m sent…and I take care of business.”
With that he turned back to his magazine, and I flipped the Kindle back on. Take care of business? I didn’t want to know.
Chapter 18
At PHL, I finally reached Della Mae. Of course she was OK. She was more than OK. She couldn’t find a phone charger in the house that fit her iPhone X, and it had gone dead. She was having the time of her life with Sally the little white dog. “Wait til you see her! She looks so good!”
“Well, looks like I’ll be seeing her sooner than I thought. I’m in Philly on the way home. Should be there about 4:34 pm. You think you could meet me then?”
“Of course, silly! Sandy and I will wait in the cell phone lot! Just call us when you have your luggage. I love you!’
With that missive, she signed off. She sounded so happy. She was the person I remembered from so many years ago. I couldn’t help but smile. Inside and out.
“Hey pardner!” the voice boomed. “You’ll never guess where I’m headed next!”
“I thought you were going to D.C.?” I offered, hoping, praying, begging…
“Nope! Looks like I’ll get to take in a Flying Squirrels game. I was redirected to RIC. One seat left…I’ll take it!”
“Sounds like fun…hope you enjoy the game…”
I never liked flying with a stranger, especially one headed to my home airport. Hopefully he would be one of those people I just saw once in my life. I decided to traipse about the PHL concourse to avoid being near him, making a lap of the shopping center they put in some years ago. I stopped at the electronics store near the gate and looked over the display of Bang & Olufsen headphones so I could see him. Lawrence Dysart had made his way to the RIC gate, and plopped down in a blue vinyl seat. No computer. No phone. No magazine. He just sat there, and stared into the distance. I hoped he wasn’t in First Class again.
“Flight 4963 to Richmond…now boarding…”
I jumped up and pushed my way through the crowd to the gate, with my first class ticket out there for all to see. He was still just sitting there in the gate area, hard to miss, with the long silver wavy hair and the expensive sunglasses. I made my way to seat 2A again, and hoped he would be in the very back of the CRJ. As the long line of passengers filed by, I finally saw him at the aircraft door, speaking pleasantly with the aircraft crew. Soon enough, he walked by me with a casual salute on his way to the back. I hoped it would be the very backity back, with his sudden change of plans to RIC.
Flight 4963 made it to RIC without issue. We turned from downwind to base leg over the Richmond International Raceway, where I’d spent many a spring and fall evening watching the NASCAR races. In a few minutes we had touched down and taxied to A14. I leapt from my seat to get out to the jetway and pick up the Tumi rollaboard. Thankfully the first class tag on the handle got it some priority, and I was dashing up the tunnel to make my way to the arrivals pickup area.
I tapped Della Mae’s smiling face on the Pixel 2 XL phone favorites screen. It rang only once. “I’m here…!”
“We’re glad! Sandy — Daddy’s home…let’s go pick him up!”
My heart raced, and not from the quick pace I took through the concourse. I could not wait to see Della Mae again. Further down the sidewalk, though, I saw him. He had made his way out from the luggage carousel, and looked to and fro for transportation. He had a typical rolling suitcase. It was pretty well banged up, and had one of those rainbow straps around it for easy identification. But he had something else. It was a black hard case. It was not something the average business traveler would carry. Maybe five feet long, about a foot across, and only a few inches thick. I could only guess what was inside. He set both cases down, then reached into his suit pocket. The red and white cigarette carton in his hand shone like the noonday sun in Death Valley under the sidewalk lights — Marlboro! He pulled out a nicotine stick and stuck it in his mouth, then patted his pockets for a lighter.
“Sir — NO SMOKING in the terminal area!” There, in the obligatory orange safety vest was the Airport Police officer guiding traffic. The silver-haired gentleman from who knows where held up his hands in mock surrender, and let the cigarette dangle from his mouth, unlit.
I turned to look for the Cayenne Turbo wending its way to me, and saw the quick flashes of the bright LED lights greeting me.
“So happy to see you!” Della Mae exuded.
“Let’s get home!” I rejoined. I threw the laptop bag and the Tumi rollaboard in the back, and hopped in.
With that, Della Mae looked to her left, stomped on the gas, and nearly sideswiped the Airport Police officer who was still explaining the smoking rules to the silver-haired gentleman. The officer spun around with a look of surprise and anger on his face, but then returned to the conversation at hand. Della Mae expertly slowed the Porsche to near school zone speed to avoid further constable consternation.
As we rounded the bend in the road, Della Mae mashed the gas again, accelerating past MartinAir. “This has power!” she exclaimed.
“Easy now, it’s 45 mph here and you already nearly knocked Barney over.” I looked at the beautiful woman beside me, as she eased the Cayenne to a stop at Williamsburg Road. I couldn’t help but smile. It had been so long since I felt this way. Too long.
Chapter 19
Traffic this time of day was always a question. Della Mae wheeled the Porsche around I-295 towards Charlottesville to avoid possible chaos. I settled back in the seat and was greeted by a wet nose and a mild whimper. Sandy always missed me. She was attired in her pink harness and stretched forward as far as she could go, with the seatbelt keeping her in place.
“I am starved. Nothing on the flight, of course, and my big breakfast wore off about two hours ago.”
“Where could we go? It’s been so long I can’t remember any of the places.”
She had been gone a long time. I looked over at her and marveled at her beauty. Why had she come to see me? I wanted to know, and yet I didn’t want to find out. I just wanted to live in the moment.
“Let’s try The Portico on River Road. They have a patio and probably wouldn’t mind Sandy sitting with us.”
Della Mae punched in the on-board GPS as if she had owned a Cayenne Turbo all her life. In no time at all we were all the way around Richmond and heading south on 288 towards River Road. The restaurant hadn’t quite opened when we arrived, with the wide tires crunching through the gravel parking lot. We waited for a few minutes until the hostess opened the restaurant for dinner.
“Would you mind terribly if we had dinner out back with Sandy keeping us company?”
“Not at all! We’ll just walk around to the back” As early as we had arrived, no one else had claimed the portico itself. James proudly announced he would be taking care of us, and inquired if we wanted to begin with a cocktail.
“Let’s just get a bottle of wine…you know, like we used to do…?” pleaded Della Mae. “You pick!”
I scanned the winelist, and noted she was also perusing it. “Let’s have the Pahlmeyer Napa Valley Chardonnay, please.” Della Mae raised her lashes, looked up with a start, and smiled.
“An exceptional choice, sir” James proclaimed. “I’ll be right back.”
“My my my, a $75 bottle of Chardonnay?” Della Mae cooed. “You’d think I was someone special! Whatever happened to the gentleman who chose the optimum price-to-Wine Spectator rating bottles?”
“I think he left town. Never to return.”
“What if I liked him?” Della Mae frowned, in mock sadness.
“I think you’ll like the new sheriff.”
In a short while, James returned with the bottle. We chose caprese to start, salmon roulade for entrees, and spumoni for dessert. Over a couple of glasses the conversation wandered from the problem at the plant to Sandy’s new coiffure. “Don’t you think she looks great?”
“Why yes, yes I do. Sandy, you’ve never looked better. Where did you take her? So many places have a long lead time.”
“I called Ridge Dog Shop and managed to get an appointment after a sudden cancellation. They did so good! I love the pink bow they gave her.”
Sandy looked up, hoping for a morsel of food. Somehow a chunk of salmon managed to find its way to the patio floor.
“Sir, would you like another bottle of Pahlmeyer?” I looked up, and greeted the Portico manager who had come to see how things were going.
“Yes, I believe we would. Let’s leave it here at the table unopened, though, until we finish.”
Della Mae looked at me as if I were crazy. “Sweetheart — two bottles?”
“You, my dear, are worth it.” She smiled and looked down at the plate, with only a bit of aspargus and salmon left.
“You are, too,” she offered, looking up with her head tilted just so. She paused. “I have missed you.”
I took a long sip of wine from my glass. Gazing across the table, I could just see the fading sunlight reflected in her eyes. “I have missed you every day. Every day.” I felt the tears welling up inside.
“Sir, your spumoni…” James could tell he had interrupted a special moment, looking sorrowful as he slid the cool glass bowls across the table. “Your dog…she…she is so well-behaved.”
“Thanks James…she is a good dog!”
“Sir, would you like me to open your wine now?”
“James, I think I’ll just take this home with me like this, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“No sir…I”ll be right back with the check.”
We each took spoonfuls of spumoni — raspberry for me and blueberry for her. In a moment, our spoons clinked together as she reached across the table to try mine.
“Oops!” she feigned an apology. In a few minutes, we managed to finish both bowls and found our way to the front door. “You drive…” she asked in a soft voice.
“Sir, your wine!” James rushed through the restaurant and handed the unopened bottle to me. “Enjoy your evening, sir.”
With Della Mae holding onto my arm, we walked slowly across the gravel lot with Sandy beside us. I opened the door for her, and watched her slide into the seat with grace befitting a princess. Sandy jumped in and guarded the bottle of wine. In no time at all we were back on River Road and heading to the house. I thought she might fall asleep, but instead she looked over at me, the entire way to Goochland. “I have missed you. I have really missed you.”
Chapter 20
After the obligatory 35 mph crawl through Goochland, we turned into the neighborhood and headed for the home in the woods. The garage door slowly opened and closed behind the Porsche. I jumped out to escort Della Mae inside.
“Let’s go out on the deck. It’s a nice evening. I’ll light the torches for you.”
“Would you like me to open the bottle?”
“Yes indeed! It’s a special night. I’l have at least one more glass. Let’s leave the phones inside, and just be together.”
The Rabbit wine bottle opener made short work of the cork, and I grabbed a couple of Riedel glasses from the cupboard.
Della Mae was already on the deck, and motioned me to sit on the couch beside her. Sandy joined us, taking up her usual position at the edge of the steps looking over the back yard. The sound of wine gurgling into the glasses could be heard over the faint noise of cicadas, and fireflies rose from the grass to seek each other.
Della Mae leaned back into my chest, and looked out towards the river. “Such a great evening!”
I couldn’t have agreed more. But, I was having one of those heart-head battles. My head wanted to know “why?” Why did it end? Why was she unable to talk to me all these years? Why was she here now? My heart wanted to escape to the world of “we.” We were together. We were at home. We were at rest. We missed each other. We…
The battle between my head and my heart was interrupted by Sandy growling at something in the darkness. She often growled at neighborhood critters, or those folks walking their dogs, but this was different. She raised her head to carefully sniff the air. Her growl became louder and lower.
“What’s the matter Sandy?” Della Mae whispered. With a start, Sandy jumped to her feet and turned to face the front of the house. Her tail stopped wagging, and it stood straight out.
I turned to listen as well. In the distance, I thought I could make out what sounded like steps through the woods. Sandy barked loudly, a single warning bark. She backed up towards me. Della Mae sat up abruptly.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered.
“Sshhh.” I could see Della Mae listening intently. There, on the other side of the house, I could hear a voice. Then, another. The words were in a language unfamiliar to me. Sandy backed up further, and turned to look right at me with eyes wide open. Just then, I heard a deep growl from what must have been a large dog.
“Gunnar…we have to go…now. Right now.” The look on her face was not one of a loving friend, but one of USMC drill instructor directness.
“Go? Where?” I asked with some confusion.
“Anywhere…just not here…we’ve got to get away!”
Chapter 21
Seeing her concern, and hearing the tenseness in her voice, I knew I had to lead. “Let’s go this way!” as I took her hand and led her quietly off the deck. “Sandy!” In a flash, Sandy bounded off the deck towards us.
“We’ll head down here, towards the dry creek that leads to the James River,” I shared. Without any lights, the path was anything but easy to see. “Follow me…I’ll try to get the branches out of your way.”
“Go as quickly and as quietly as you can!” she admonished. We pushed forward, heading down the slight incline towards the river. “Come on Sandy!”
The creekbed wandered left and right without a pattern, and I stumbled more than once. Della Mae kept right behind me, and I realized that she was barefoot only when I heard a mild expletive. I turned to see if she was okay, and saw her face focused on the task at hand rather than her possible injury.
We followed the creekbed until it widened out just enough, and the rocks and roots turned into soft tall grass. Just ahead of us I could see a small cove. The river was high, and nigh, and the cove was a pool of still brown water. Della Mae turned to look back. Sandy growled. “They’re following us…we’ve got to keep going…”
I looked in the cove and saw a canoe, tied to a small platform at the base of some deck stairs leading upwards. “Let’s get in…come on!” As quietly as we could, we clambered in. Della Mae sat low in the bow, and called Sandy to come. She obediently waded into the water, and Della Mae pulled her in. I untied the canoe and pushed off from the bank, stepping through the cove to push the canoe towards the river. In only a few yards, the James was visible. Rolling into the stern area, I felt around the bottom of the canoe for paddles.
“You have any paddles up there?” I queried.
“Nope…I looked already. You have any?”
“Nothing here either. I sure would like to have something to keep us pointed with the current!”
We floated downstream, with more speed than the river appeared to have from the shore. The heavy rains had made the river both wider and faster. Looking back towards the cove, I could see movement, and figures dressed in dark clothing emerged from the woods. Beams of LED lights cut through the darkness, playing out on the river like spotlights at a circus.
“Get down!” Della Mae whispered. I ducked as low as I could and cradled Sandy below me. Thankfully the river had taken us quickly away from the cove, and the beams of light didn’t reach us.
I watched as Della Mae looked in the distance, and slowly rose from my crouched position. “What is going on?” I asked, with more than a hint of anger in my voice.
“I was afraid of this,” she said quietly. “I didn’t think they would find me here, though.”
“They?”
“Yes, they. I can’t tell you. I’m so sorry. I never should have come back here.”
Chapter 22
Ker-bang! The canoe gave a shudder and tilted over to the starboard as the river current pushed us up against a large underwater rock. Instinctively, I reached into the cold water and pushed as hard as I could to move us off the rock and out of danger. The canoe pivoted with the stern dragging on the rock, and we slowly whirled around in the current as I managed to get it off the obstruction.
Rocks! I remembered where we were on the James. Ahead, somewhere, there was a small weir. This small wall looked like a miniature dam, and water tumbled over it all the time. With the rainfall, the flow had become more like Niagara falls. Even at only three feet tall, we were in no shape to whitewater over the wall. Sandy wasn’t much of a swimmer, and there was no way I was going to ask her to try.
“Della Mae…we’ve got to get across the river and now!” I urged. I’m going to point us upriver at an angle to get the river to push us over as we head downstream. I took a kneeling position in the canoe, and reached forward into the cold water to grab as much as my XXL mitts could. Pushing hard with my left arm, I managed to paddle the canoe around just enough to put us in a ferry position. Then, with strokes on each side, I tried to send the canoe upstream against the mighty current.
In time, I could see the lights on my side of the river growing fainter, and the buzz of the cicadas becoming louder from the far side. My shoulders and triceps were crying out in pain with each paddlestroke, much like they did after an X-Team Fitness workout.
“Listen!” Della Mae asked. “Listen–I hear music.”
In the loaming darkness, I too could hear music. A solo guitar was strumming, a harmonica was moaning softly, and I could just make out a foot tapping on the dock on the off beats. With renewed effort, I paddled as hard as I could to make my way towards the music.
Thump! Went the canoe, and we whirled around as it hit another rock. I could tell the water was shallow, and leaping out I trudged towards the shoreline and the sound of music. There, visible in a dim glow from outdoor lights up on a hill was a dock. The silhouette of a man sitting in a chair was evident. With each sloshing step I made, we found ourselves closer.
“Good evening, kind sir!” I intoned. “Mind if we tie up here?”
Chapter 23
“Hunh?” the man sat bolt upright, and his guitar’s sweet tone stopped with a twang.
“We heard your song as we floated downstream…thought we’d come over and say hello.”
“What are you all doing out this time of night on the river? With a dog?”
“It’s a long story…I live on the other side…I guess we’re neighbors, so to speak.”
“Well, come on up. The ladder is just over there. Here…let me help you with the dog.”
He set his guitar down carefully and unstrapped a harmonica holder from his neck. I held Sandy up and she gladly accepted his lift upwards.
“Sweetheart, I guess you’re next?” With my all-too-casual invitation, Della Mae clambered up the rough wooden ladder with the speed of a Ninja warrior competitor. I followed with a groan as my right knee let me know I’d done too many forward lunges at X-Team.
“Thank you…thanks very much. My name is Gunnar.”
“Mine’s George…I live up on the hill there…can I get you anything?”
“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before? You look familiar, and that harmonica and guitar…wait, I know, you’re George from Rare Old Times.”
“Yeah, I’ve played there a time or two.”
“George — could I borrow your phone, please?” Della Mae broke up the musician confab with a look that could kill.
“Yes ma’am! Here ya go!”
I watched as Della Mae took a few steps onto dry land, out of earshot. She punched in quite a few numbers, then looked down and keyed in a few more. I walked towards her, but she held up her hand to stop me.
Puzzled, I decided to be as sociable as a half-wet canoeist without paddles and a dog could be. “George, sure appreciate you being out here on the dock tonight. Don’t know what we’d have done without you. Where are we, by the way?”
“You’re almost downriver to 522,” George allowed. Della Mae walked over, and reached down to pet Sandy.
“Excuse me…the best address for a friend to come and pick us up, George?”
“Well, there’s not really a good address out here…I could give them directions…”
Della Mae turned away and spoke into the phone…”Wait one…”
Chapter 24
“We’re on the south side…about two miles south of the watchpost. We’re west of a weir, but not very far. George?” she covered the phone with her hand. “What’s the closest point they could cross the river from here?”
“Tell them to take 522 south, if they can, and turn west on 617. After they make a hard right turn, We’re the first drive on the left downriver from there.” With that, Della Mae returned to her phone call.
As she walked towards us, I could hear her say “Triangulate on this mobile…on my mark…mark!”
With that cryptic phone message, she turned to our host. “George, we can’t thank you enough for loaning us your phone! I guess we’ll walk up to the main road and wait for our Uber.”
With that, we headed up the slight rise to the home. I carried Sandy, while George packed his guitar and harp. The long trail from the river to the road took about ten minutes in the darkness.
“George…hope we can see you at the Rare Old Times someday soon?”
“Me too…look me up on Facebook for my show schedule!”
Once we were out of earshot, I asked “Della Mae…what’s going on…who were you calling?”
“It’s okay…it’ll be fine…just wait here with me…”
I sat down at the edge of the driveway, and stroked Sandy’s soft white fur. “We’ll be okay, Sandy. Della Mae called an Uber for us. Just sit tight with me. Won’t be too long…” My voice trailed off as I looked over at the woman I had never forgotten. I’d just had never known this woman. She was standing there, scanning westward for whoever she had called. Every few minutes she turned to look at us. A forced smile was evident, followed by a quick return to scanning for the…the Uber.
“There…there…they’re almost here!” she exclaimed quietly. “Let’s be ready…”
In only a few seconds, two vehicles came screaming down the country lane. The first was a black Ford Interceptor, and it slid to a stop with gravel from the shoulder of the road flying towards us from the Goodyear RS-A tires. Behind it was a black Chevrolet Suburban, arriving with a bit more panache.
In a flash, men from the Interceptor leapt out and surrounded us in a perimeter covering all four compass points. Each man held what appeared to be H&K MP5 with additional hardware strapped in thigh holsters. On each man’s torso was a very thick bulletproof vest, with a subdued and cryptic logo visible on the back.
Shortly thereafter, the passenger front door of the Suburban quietly opened, and a man dressed in a blue pin-striped suit stepped out. The suit looked very familiar.
Chapter 25
“Good evening, ma’am, how can we be of service?”
“Sorry to call in the cavalry, but they found me. I should’ve known they would. We left the watchpost an hour…no…83 minutes ago. I don’t know if they are still there.”
“I’ll call the team to let them know.” The man in the suit returned to the Suburban and grabbed a microphone. He began speaking, then turned away where I couldn’t see him.
“Uber?” I quizzed Della Mae. “Uber? This looks more like Mission Impossible VII: The Rescue. Who are these guys?”
“Some friends of mine,” she rejoined. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” In that moment, the woman I loved could be seen in her sweet smile and caring eyes.
“Sir…could I ask you to join us here in the Suburban?” The man in the suit motioned with his hand to the back seat. “I think your dog will enjoy riding in the backity back.” I walked towards the back seat, and saw a very large man there dressed in all black, wearing night vision goggles, a heavy bulletproof vest, and carrying a Heckler & Koch 416 rifle with a silencer and optical sights. He turned his head to gesture to the third row back seats, and flipped the rear seat forward so I could get in.
I ducked low to clear the seatbelt anchor, and made my way into the back. Settling in, I looked out and saw the man in the suit holding Sandy. “Come on girl!” I beckoned. With trembling legs, Sandy jumped up and curled up beside me. Clearly, she was unsure of her surroundings, and I felt a shared sense of unease.
The man in the suit stood at the passenger seat. Della Mae entered the rear seat, and sat next to the man with the suppressed rifle. The man in the blue pinstripe suit closed her door, and then jumped in the front seat. The doors to the Suburban closed with bank vault solidity, and I guessed that we were now in a bulletproof hotrod. The four men from the Interceptor returned from the perimeter they had set up, and in a moment had the sedan turned around with a perfect three-point turn.
Della Mae turned to me. I could tell by the look on her face that questions were not appropriate at this moment. She turned back to the man in the suit, and in a voice I hadn’t heard before commanded “Execute Plan Whiskey Alpha Four!”
Chapter 26
In the back of the Suburban I was at best a guest of whoever Della Mae called. We drove from the takeout point all the way back to downtown Richmond, and at a speed one could only describe as exciting..make that exhilarating. As we crossed the Henrico County line, two motor officers joined us with Code 3 lights and sirens flashing all around their BMW R1200RTP machines. 
All along Patterson Avenue, with their careful work, we just cleared every intersection like we were on the interstate. At the city’s edge, RPD officers astride Harley Davidson police bikes picked up the escort. Sandy growled as she heard the V-Twin rumble, but settled down when she realized they were with us. In about thirty minutes, we were at the front door of The Jefferson Hotel.
“Good evening, sir!” came the pleasant welcome of the doorman. “Welcome to The Jefferson.”
“Della Mae…are we staying here?”
“Sir…if you’ll follow me…” said the man in the blue pin-striped suit.
I grabbed Sandy and followed the well-dressed man to the front desk. At first, the clerk frowned at the sight of the well-behaved goldendoodle, but after a few words from my escort, the demeanor of the clerk changed remarkably.
“Sir, your room is ready…please follow me.”
In a few minutes, Sandy and I were up on the top floor of the Jefferson. I had never seen the top floor of the Jefferson before, and the room was as nice as I’d ever seen. “Sir, if you’ll just stay here…your party will be here shortly.” I realized I was now in “the” Thomas Jefferson suite.
In a few minutes, Della Mae entered the two-bedroom suite. “Hi, darling!” she smiled. “I know this must seem…unusual?”
“Well, to me, I’d chalk this evening up to right near unbelievable…” I replied.
“I know…I know…it will all be okay, I promise,” she looked down. “I know it’s been a crazy evening. I’ll try to explain…”
“Let me guess…we are guests of the US Government?”
“Yes…yes we are. And, we’re safe. Safe at last.”
Chapter 27
“Safe is good. I like safe. But safe from whom?” I could only raise one eyebrow so far, in my best attempt to be calm and reserved like Mr. Spock.
“I’ll try to explain…but I can’t share everything, of course.” Della Mae gestured to the well-appointed suite’s living room couch. “Let’s sit here…I’ll have room service bring us a snack while we talk. I’m sure you’ll have a few questions.”
As I sank into the plush upholstered couch, Sandy followed me. After the ride in the Suburban, I don’t think Sandy considered anywhere but next to me safe. She curled up in the middle of the couch, her back pressed into the couch and her head draped over my knee. I could see her legs quivering, and she looked towards me with some obvious concern.
“It’s okay,” I offered with a careful and delicate touch. “Della Mae will tell us all about our exciting ride in the big black truck.” I looked over and saw Della Mae hanging up the phone.
“Our snack will be here in a few minutes,” she remarked casually. “You are probably starving after that river workout! I was proud of how you handled the ferrying across the James without a paddle.”
“Well, it was the least I could do for the woman I know…wait…who are you again?”
“I know…it will be a bit of a surprise, I’m sure, as I fill you in. Let me begin…”
The door to suite opened silently, surprising me just a bit. A man in a blue pin stripe suit pushed a small cart towards the couch, draped with a bright white tablecloth. I found myself worrying that the silver warming set contained a few sticks of dynamite, just like in Diamonds Are Forever, until Della Mae greeted the gentleman.
“Thanks, Rhodes! I’m glad you’re out there for us tonight.”
With a wave, Rhodes returned to the hallway. I could tell he was an athletic young man, but the bulges in the suit coat and how his shoulders seemed a bit constrained by the cut of the fine wool fabric.
I opened the snack, and found food enough for a small family. “I didn’t know just what you were in the mood for!” Della Mae smiled. “And of course, Sandy will need at least some of the bacon and eggs.”
While Della Mae set up the plates and silverware, I thought back to the end of our time together. After we had worked together for a while at the Agency, our job assignments had separated us. The project we had worked on so hard was cancelled by the incoming White House administration, and Della Mae was reassigned. We tried to remain friends, but Della Mae’s new job kept her so far away, she had tearfully said goodbye to me. The heartache I felt then and the changes within the Agency made it impossible to enjoy a day at the office. I left the Agency, on good terms, but decided to return to industry rather than work on what I thought were misguided projects. Della Mae’s new role was never known to me. Now, I hoped to learn what had torn her away.
“Well, I know it was hard for us a few years ago. I didn’t want it to end. I told you. But, the assignment…I had to. It was for our country. I’ve been working ever since our project ended on something we call COBALT.”
“COBALT? I thought that codename was only a conspiracy theorist’s dream! I remember hearing it whispered around the office from time to time. It was real?”
“It is real. It is very real. I’ve been working on it for a long time. The project moved quickly from concept to production, and staffing was increased from a small team of dedicated associates to a full complement. Everyone from analysts to operators!”
“You are kidding!”
“Nope…and as we grew…I’m afraid, so did the risks. We lost a couple of team members. So very sad. Great people. Dedicated and diligent.”
“Lost?” I puzzled.
“Lost. We added a couple of bricks to the wall of honor.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Well, the loss of these two people proved that somehow, someone, somewhere, apparently exposed COBALT to forces opposed to the US. I’m afraid they know who I am.”
“Who you are? I mean, you were awesome on the project we worked on…but were never really in management. Why do they care who you are?”
“Believe it or not, I’m COBALT CO. I know it all, developed a lot of the techniques, and staffed the project over the past couple of years. We had 58 full-time and one working 93.3% of his time on the project. The two we lost…I chose for my team. It hurts. It hurts a lot.”
“So now, we’re here, and I still don’t get it. Someone is after me, watching my house, week after week, and tonight chased me off my back deck into the James River.”
“Sweetheart, they weren’t after you.”
I stopped shoveling the caprese and mozzerella over beefsteak tomatoes into my mouth and looked up. Della Mae tilted her head and said with a sad frown “They want to take down COBALT. They are after me.”
Chapter 28
“Oh my gosh!” I exclaimed. “It all makes sense now.”
“What?” Della Mae inquired.
“For two years now, there have been signs of someone trying to get close to me. Evidence of surveillance. Even obvious signs of being staked out by persons unknown.”
“How did you see this?”
“It was all around me. Time after time, Sandy and I would be out walking and I would see Marlboro cigarette butts. Right at our house. Right in the front yard. All around the neighborhood.”
“Really?” Della Mae queried?
“Yeah, and recently we even saw Pall Malls. And hearing protection, like military snipers wear!”
“That must have been upsetting!”
“And, now — men are coming in my yard to … wait a minute … they are after YOU!”
We talked more. Sandy slowly left the couch and found a quiet bedroom where she could sleep after her big adventure. Della Mae and I talked about everything. When I first saw the cigarette butts. When we found the hearing protection. Specifically where all these items were. I felt like I was under arrest and in the interrogation room. But I knew that we needed to figure all this out.
“I tell you what…let’s take a break and think through all this later,” I asked. “I’m fading fast…my gosh…it’s 3 am!”
We cleaned up the room service plates and set them outside the door. As I opened the door, I saw Rhodes standing there. He turned to greet me with a quiet nod. “Are you going to be here all night?” I asked. Another quiet nod. I felt somewhat relieved, but recognized with Rhodes there that I was in love with the CO of COBALT…and she was important. Important to the US of A.
I returned to the suite, and the soft couch. The TV clicker was right there, and I found “Live PD” on Channel 681. Della Mae went into the bedroom where Sandy was laid out on the bed. In a few minutes, I was completely in a zone of marveling at law enforcement activities with the most interesting citizens of El Paso, Nye County, and Pinal County…and in even fewer minutes, I was asleep.
I awoke to the streaming sunlight. Sandy was with me, resting comfortably next to the couch. I slowly sat up and wondered out loud “Where am I?” In a flash, my mind recalled the evening and I slowly stood up and found my way to the suite’s kitchen. There, the coffee maker was visible. And, the pot was ice cold, with just a bit of coffee left inside. A torn-open envelope of coffee was cast aside on the counter, and I saw the only other coffee at the pot was decaf.
“Della Mae?” I called. “Are you awake? Geez, it’s almost ten am!”
I looked down at Sandy. She dashed to the door of the suite and scratched most insistently.
“Oh my…we’ve got to get you outside!”
I pulled on my shoes and opened the door.
“Good morning, sir!” said the bright-eyed young man. “I’m glad to see you have enjoyed a night of rest.”
“Where’s Rhodes?” I quizzed.
“Rhodes had to leave. I relieved him at 0600. The name’s Ian.” He stuck out his hand, and we shook. His grip was strong and confident, and as I took a closer look, I saw he too had a blue pin stripe suit on…with the same bulge under the left arm.
“Sir, we can help you with Sandy,” he offered. “You are not quite ready to head to the lobby…” He gestured to my hair and my clothing…what little I had on. “Let me take her to outside for a moment or two…”
I looked around the suite, and found two luxurious terry cloth robes, embroidered with the hotel logo. I slipped the long belts from the waist, joined them with a sheet bend, and made a bowline loop for Sandy’s neck. “Hope this works, Sandy…” I encouraged Ian to be careful with her in downtown Richmond.
I went to the bedroom to see where Della Mae was. There, on the crisply-made bed, I found a set of clothing, a shaving kit, and a vintage postcard of the Jefferson Hotel. Trembling, my hands held what I hoped was good news…I turned it over…
“Sweetheart,
I am OK. You are OK. We are OK. I had to return to Washington, but you’ll see me again. I promise. I PROMISE!”
The words were underlined with a double line…and below them, was a heart with an arrow. I looked closer. Right at the bottom, scrunched into the available space, were words I wanted to hear…
“I do love you. I always have. I always will.”
Chapter 29
I fell to my knees, sobbing. Someone wanted to take out Della Mae. The only woman I’ve ever loved. I couldn’t help. I couldn’t protect. I was powerless. But something welled up deep inside. It was not anger. It wasn’t fear. I think you would call it determination. Somehow I was going to be there for her.
I rose resolutely from the bedside and turned towards the bath. I flipped on the rain forest shower head to nearly all hot water, and in a few minutes the mirror was completely fogged up. In a few minutes I had washed my tears away, scrubbed the river water out of my hair, and I felt a bit more like myself.
As I wandered back into the suite living room, I paused as I saw Ian there, with Sandy. “She did fine, sir. Just fine!” I slipped on the clothes I found on the bed, threw my filthy clothes from the river excursion into a laundry bag, and commanded “Ian, get me home. I have to get home now.”
“Sir, I wanted to tell you the plan. Let’s grab some breakfast and I’ll take you back to Goochland right away.”
“The plan? We have a plan?”
“Yes sir…I’ll explain on the way to your home. Until then, we’ll just talk about how bad the Washington Nationals are playing, or perhaps how TIG welding differs from MIG welding. We have to be careful, even here.”
We went down to TJ’s for what I hoped would be a quick continental breakfast, but at the Jefferson, such fare is not to be found. Looking over the menu, I chose the Triple Berry Smoothie with Anson Mills oatmeal. Ian wolfed down an incredibly prepared The Rivah Omelette, with lumb crab, bacon, and swiss nestled amid three eggs.
“You sure made short work of that omelette!”
“Well, I figured I would probably not have a chance for lunch, with what we have to do to prepare for tonight. Can’t ever pass up a chance to have lump crabmeat with swiss and bacon…man that was good…”
We dashed back upstairs to get Sandy and the rest of our belongings. Ian let me know he would be at the front door to pick me up in just a few minutes. I took one last look around the room, and couldn’t help but replay the late night conversation with Della Mae in my head. CO of COBALT! I headed for the door, stepped into the hallway, and realized I had forgotten the postcard! As fast as I could, I stepped back into the room before the door closed and locked. There, on the bed, was the postcard. I showed it to Sandy…saying “She loves me, Sandy…” and tucked it into my shirt. No way was I going to leave this note behind.
Sandy walked beside me, with the terry cloth robe belts serving as her lead. I walked out the front door like I owned the place, and looked for the black Suburban. Instead, a bright reddish orange Jeep zoomed up, and the passenger door swung open. “Hop in!” Ian suggested.
I slipped the robe belt off Sandy’s neck and tossed it to the bellman. “Thanks for everything!” I lifted the little white dog into the back seat, and in a flash we were on the Downtown Expressway heading west.
“What happened to the Suburban?” I asked.
“Can’t use it. They’ll see it. We need to get you home and fast. But we need to make it look like a friend brought you home.”
Over the whir from the worn off-road tires spinning on the asphalt, Ian explained the plan to me. Della Mae was safe. But, the same organization who wanted her gone would be looking for her again at my house. I was to go back and make everything look like normal. Walk the dog. Jog around the neighborhood. Head out for lunch or errands. Come home. Prepare dinner. In time, the organization after Della Mae would be back. They would be looking for her. They could care less about me. I was the reason she would come back. That’s all that mattered to them.
“Who are these people? The Russians? The Chinese?”
“Nope. I mean, there are Russians and Chinese in the group. But, it’s not what you think. It’s not a state-sponsored organization.”
“Well, who are they?” I asked, with some exasperation.
“Mr. Grey, do you know the Bible?”
“Of course…I read it nearly every day.”
“Well, I can tell you nothing official. But, I’ll tell you what I can. Read Mark, chapter 5, verse 9. That’s all I can say.” With that, Ian turned to look at the GPS to guide him to my home, as we reached the Oilville exit on I-64 West. 
Mark 5:9…Mark 5:9…I tried to remember…but gave up. My mind just wasn’t sharp, even after three cups of coffee. I grabbed Ian’s phone he had dropped into the central cup holder and asked Google to show me Mark 5:9…
“My name is Legion, for we are many.”
Chapter 30
Ian pulled the Jeep into the neighborhood, and found his way to the long driveway. I couldn’t help but scan around me for signs of intruders. Ian saw my swiveling head movements.
“Sir, we’ve checked your property, and are certain there are no hostiles around the exterior environs at this time.”
“Thanks. Hostiles? It’s hard to believe they were actually here.”
“Yes sir…they were here. We found signs of their entry to your property and know for certain they left to follow you towards the river.”
“Do you think they went in the house?”
“Sir, my colleagues officially reported no signs, no one, and undetermined as to your home being compromised. I’ll walk through it with you to ensure you are comfortable.”
As we pulled towards the garage entrance, Sandy became more excited. I think the familiar smells of the woods must have registered. I opened the door and she jumped out. Dashing around the yard, she soon rolled around in the grass in that familiar manner saying “I’m so happy to be home.”
Ian and I checked the exterior doors. The front and side doors were locked. The back door at the deck was unlocked.
“Sir, the back door…”
“Well, we were outside on the deck when we had to make a run for it…”
“Yes sir…still, we’ll be careful. Our satellite images only showed them outside your house, but anything could happen.” Ian drew a large Sig P320 X5 pistol with Romeo optics from his shoulder holster, and proceeded to clear the house room by room. I waited on the back deck with Sandy.
“All clear…” Ian spoke into his wrist microphone.
“Sir, here’s the plan. It’s pretty simple. We need you to be you. Just live here, go to work, come home, go jogging, sit on the back deck…just be you.”
“That’s it? Just be me?”
“Yes sir. You, sir, are waiting on Della Mae. You know that. They know that. They are waiting on Della Mae to return. Until then, we need you to be you. Do nothing unusual. Nothing.”
Ian reached up to his earpiece to more clearly hear. He spoke into the wrist microphone again “Affirmative. Out.”
“Sir, I need to leave. I’ve been here too long already. Remember, just be yourself. That’s all we need.”
He strode with alacrity to the Jeep and swung it around to exit the property. With a wave, he gunned the engine and scattered gravel towards the woods, right where we had dashed towards the dry creek bed the night before. In a matter of seconds, the Jeep had vanished onto Highway 6.
So that was the plan. Be myself. Live my life. Wait for Della Mae. Wait for Della Mae? It hit me. I was not really to be myself. I was simply the bait. I was the lure. I was…expendable. COBALT wanted me to bring them here. To bring…the Legion.
Chapter 31
It was Wednesday of what was already a very long week. I remembered that the old childhood saying was “Wednesday’s child is full of woe.” My Wednesday was certainly shaping up to be woeful. I called the boss to explain the situation…both the good news that the plant production trial would soon go smoothly, and the bad news that I was in no shape to come to work after my river experience. I left out the details of the mysterious ride at 100 mph down Patterson Avenue to the Jefferson with police escort. For some reason I thought that would probably raise a few questions too many.
“Take what time you need…work from home…we’ll be fine since you fixed the problem,” the boss said most cheerfully.
“Thanks…I’ll bring some Godiva to work soon to make it up to you!”
The rest of the day I found myself in somewhat of a daze. I looked around for something to eat for lunch, but ended up driving into “town” for a burger at The Sunset Grill . Sandy came with me and we ate on the deck. I sure as heck didn’t want to leave her by herself.
We rolled back in, and I found myself making the rounds of the yard and house to see if anything was amiss. I tried to make it look like I was checking the landscaping and lighting, but I was looking for anything that might signal trouble on the way. I deadbolted all the doors, and even tried that old trick of jamming a chair under the doorknob to prevent entry. Crawling into bed, I motioned for Sandy to join me. Instead of staying at the foot of the bed, like she had done for seven years, she curled up in a tight little ball right beside me, her back against the pillows. I flipped on the Ancient Aliens marathon and wondered aloud with Sandy how Puma Punku must have been made by engineers from outer space. I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but I must have been tired as I didn’t rise until the sun shone in.
Thursday was more of the same. Just a regular day. I rode around on the John Deere to knock down the weeds before the sun got too hot. Friday was more boring than eventful. A few calls to make. A few e-mails to answer. I finished up yet another Powerpoint that had been on the back burner. I felt myself starting to relax. I was so relaxed that I even set out on the back deck with Sandy to watch the fireflies come up.
In an instant, Sandy started to growl, though. She heard something. Way at the far end of the driveway, a car had pulled in. The soft crunch of tires on gravel was obvious, but then nothing. I waited for what seemed like ten minutes, listening. Sandy wouldn’t relax, either. Her soft coat was anything but, her tail was down, her ears were up, and she wouldn’t stop smelling into the wind. I admired Sandy’s courage. Even at only 50 pounds, she had the courage to stand and guard me.
“You know, Sandy, we’re not in a very defensive position here on the back deck,” I shared. “Let’s go inside. Maybe we can find a movie to watch.”
I headed inside, and locked everything I could find to lock. I pulled the shades, flipped the blinds down, and checked the garage. I went up the back stairs to my office to see if Della Mae had sent me any e-mail. As I walked in, I puzzled over the closet door that was open only so far. I never left the closet door open. I reasoned that someone from COBALT must have left the door open…probably Ian when he was clearing the house. Still, I had to know. I grabbed a handful of courage and eased the door open.
My hand instinctively covered my mouth. What in the world? It was the long black case I had seen the man in the blue pinstripe suit carry off the airplane. It looked like it, anyway. There were a few bumps and scuffs on the hard black exterior, and I could tell it was well-traveled. I dragged it out of the closet and set it on the office floor. The black plastic latches opened easily. I reached for the handle to flip it open, and stopped. There were three initials on the case, right below skull-and-crossbones logo on the case. L.S.D. What was that guy’s name?
I opened the case slowly. There, in a form-fitting foam interior, was a black rifle. It was all black, from the muzzle brake to the buttstock. I could see atop the receiver a very special optic, with a light mounted on the forend. There were six 30-round magazines, each filled to the brim with what appeared to be mil-spec cartridges. I marveled at the rifle, and wondered if it was a gift from my mysterious traveling companion.
DING! Announced the Google Pixelbook. I had forgotten to mute the sound…and whirled around to see who had e-mailed me this time of night. There…on the screen…the most welcome e-mail ever…the subject line said “See You Soon!”
I clicked it to read…it popped up with a red heart followed by the text “Be home tomorrow. DM”
Home! She was coming home. Home?
Chapter 32
She was coming home. My home. It wasn’t much of a home without her. Sandy slipped in between my legs under the office desk to grab my attention…it was about that time of the evening. We walked downstairs and out on the back deck. “Hurry Sandy, we’ve got to get back inside and spruce up the house. Della Mae will be here soon!”
I don’t know what it is about dogs, but they know. They can see into our souls. Sandy bounded back onto the deck and leaped up as high as she could. Her happiness was at the same time a mirror of mine, and a genuine excitement that made her quiver with joy. We walked into the kitchen and looked at the stack of dishes. I opened the dishwasher, to find it full. Of dirty dishes. The family room was decorated in the finest bachelor style with a few empty Riedel stems, a stack of Road & Track magazines, and a plate sprinkled with crumbs from the last cheese-and-crackers feast. “Sandy…we’ve got to clean this up!” She looked at me, tilted her head, and dashed upstairs. I glanced at the clock on the microwave, and sure enough, it was 10:15 pm. Sandy had a way of telling time even without a Polar M430 sport watch. It was time for bed!
I took one look at all the work, and decided Sandy was right. Time for rest. As I passed the office on the way to the master suite, I saw the black case out on the floor, with the black rifle seemingly at the ready. I didn’t want to think about using the rifle, but realized someone had left it for me, just in case. Would I be ready? Could I be ready?
Falling asleep was harder than usual. I tried all the usual tricks. Knowing she was on the way here, and knowing the Legion wanted her gone made it so very difficult to relax. Every so often I found myself awakened. For whatever reason, Sandy didn’t share my concerns, remaining stretched out at the foot of the bed. I flipped to The Smithsonian channel, hoping the drone of the announcer explaining the origins of the universe would lull me to sleep. I dozed, but never slept.
The bed moved, suddenly. I woke with a start, and saw Sandy had jumped up on all fours. She was on high alert. Mashing the light on the watch, I could see it was 0330. Sandy growled…very softly. She jumped off the bed, and slowly padded towards the office window. I followed, as quietly as I could. Looking outside, through the slats of the blinds, I could tell she was locked on something. Maybe more than one, as her head swiveled from left to right. I crept near the window to see what I could see. Yes! There, on the right side of the driveway, I could see someone. The person was dressed in all black, and carried what appeared to be a long sniper rifle.
Sandy had looked to the left of the driveway, out in a garden in front of the living room window. I peered in that direction, and saw a figure crawling low and slow, on elbows and knees, approaching the house. I turned to look back at my faithful companion, only to find her back in the master suite…nose pressed against the glass as she tried her best to smell something out in the backyard. I eased the curtain slowly open, just enough to see, and there was a third figure with a rifle. He was taking up a position to cover the back door.
It hit me. I shook my head in disbelief. The Legion knew she was on the way. The e-mail sent with such joy must have been intercepted, and they were here, waiting on her to arrive. I was trapped. I was trapped in my own castle.
Chapter 33
Trapped. Not a comfortable feeling, when you have three armed assailants triangulating on your castle. I wished I could call Joe to ask what a Marine would do. Somehow a Facebook message wouldn’t do. I thought about all the guys I knew with real experience. Mr. Linville, Joe, Nick, Tom, Stephen, Greg, Brian, John, Ernest, and McKinley. Those guys made stuff happen no matter what. I thought about what each of them had, and what I would need right now. Something Ernest said came to me in a flash. “You always go to the man who is sitting calmly in a time of crisis. Those guys get you out of harm’s way.”
Be calm. The opposite of what you would think necessary. I decided that I had to be that guy. I had to be the calm, cool, and collected engineer facing down three armed adversaries at 3:30 am. I thought about my assets and liabilities. I was out of shape, didn’t really know how to do small unit operations, was tired, and at this time of morning, strangely hungry. But, I had Sandy, the little white dog, as my EWS, a Sig P229, and from someone named L.S.D., a black rifle with six magazines of 30 rounds. I had a Porsche Cayenne Turbo, I knew the layout of the land, and could navigate around the yard in darkness. I had three bad guys I could see, and they were at my 12 and 6 o’clock. The house was secure in the 3 o’clock direction — solid brick wall, no windows there. That left the garage, my 9 o’clock, and maybe, just maybe, it was still a way out.
I loaded the rifle with a magazine, slipped the charging handle back and let the bolt fly forward with a snick of the release button. I checked how to flick on the forend flashlight / laser, and turned on the optic sight. Sandy was most curious about this contraption, and smelled it very carefully. “Sandy, we need to get you to safety. I’m not sure where, but I have an idea. You’ll be okay. I’ll just be gone a little while.”
I slipped on my coyote brown 5.11 pants, strapped on the P229 in its Raven holster, stepped into my favorite running shoes, and stuffed the five other rifle magazines in the various pants pockets all around my legs. I figured my black X-Team Fitness shirt would be about all the camo I could find, and might just work in the near total darkness of the night. Moving into the bonus room over the garage, I carefully checked outside by the driveway and garage. In a few minutes of scanning, I could no one. Sandy seemed more interested in the scents and sounds from the office and master, and paid no real attention to the bonus room window. To me, that was a good sign. “Sandy…let’s go for a ride!” I said, like it was an everyday jaunt to the dog park. Her ears perked up and she dashed downstairs. I followed with the rifle at port arms, slowly stepping down the back stairs.
I thought again about my friends who actually knew what they were doing. I could hear Joe saying “Be ready!” I could see Ernest saying “You have purpose, direction, and motivation!” I recalled how McKinley could reach deep inside and move faster and with more strength even after giving it all he had. And, I knew that I had to have a viable plan. In a flash of inspiration, the plan came to me. First, get Sandy into the Porsche. Second, disconnect the electric garage door opener from the door itself. Third, ease out the side door of the garage and find the guy at the back door, closest to me. Flick on the laser, and do what I had to. Fourth, move quickly to the tree line at the edge of the yard and wait for the other two guys to circle around to the back from their positions. Be ready for one or both. Laser whoever I see, and take necessary measures from cover. Move and repeat. Fifth, once three are down, fling the garage door open and hightail it out of here with all 541 horsepower.
“Sandy…jump in the back! We’re going for a ride. In a few minutes. I need you to stay here, and be real quiet. I’ll be back in a little while. I promise.”
Chapter 34
As I closed the rear door on the Porsche, Sandy looked at me with her soulful dark eyes and tilted her head. I could hear her saying “What are you thinking? We are supposed to be together! We have been in this together from the beginning.” It took but a moment to realize that the “plan” was one created from one too many action movies I’d slept through in my La-z-boy. What was I thinking? Take out three guys? Professionals? From the Legion? By myself?
I raised the hatch and let Sandy hop out. She came over to me and leaned against my leg. I scratched her head and said “Sandy, we are in a bad situation. Della Mae is not here. The bad guys think she is coming here. We can’t let them hurt her!” Sandy growled in her lowest possible voice. Her nostrils were flaring, and her breathing indicated she was smelling some threat getting closer and closer.
Then, it hit me. The three bad guys were there to attack the house. The house itself, because Della Mae would be inside, based on the intercepted e-mail. The two guys closest to the house would be the entry team, and the third guy was the team leader, who would ensure the target was destroyed. I couldn’t let that happen.
How could I vanquish the Legion team before Della Mae arrived? I had no way of contacting her to warn her in real time–my return e-mail to her was rejected as “no such address known” by Google. If Google couldn’t get an e-mail to her, she was behind some serious electronic firewalls. The only solution I had was to find a way to neutralize the Legion team by myself. I had to get the odds in my favor. I had to get two of the three bad guys at the same time.
I knew one thing — they couldn’t let me escape, since I was the reason Della Mae would come here. So, if I made any move to leave, two of the guys would surely storm the house. From my years of volunteer work with the local police, I knew that any entry would likely employ a flash-bang device to stun me just before they entered. That device although technically harmless as an explosive would be quite a source of heat, for a brief moment. And, it hit me. The house. The house could be a weapon against the entry team. I’d spent a lot of time and money on this house, but it was only a house.
I crept back into the kitchen from the garage, leaving Sandy there. In the gourmet kitchen that I rarely used, I turned every knob on the Viking gas range to full flow, but didn’t let the igniters make a spark. In a few minutes, I could smell that horrible smell filling the downstairs. The second a flash-bang grenade went ka-pow in the house, it was going up. Hopefully the entry team would be caught up in the blast, and if enough debris flew around, well, I could only hope.
I went back into the garage, and slipped the garage door opener from the Porsche visor. I figured the team leader would hear the door opening and give the command to breach the house to prevent my escape. Waiting a few minutes for more gas to enter the home, I scratched my head for an escape plan from the Legion team leader.
There, at the garage steps, was an old Tiki torch I had replaced on the back deck. Of course! The wick of the torch would be a perfect fuse. For the Porsche. Like the house, it was an asset in a firefight I needed to win. I slipped the wick out of the torch can, and was relieved to find it still moist with fuel. Opening the Porsche gas flap, I wedged the Tiki torch wick right at the entry to the gas tank. Putting about two inches of wick on the outside, and four inches inside, I hoped that somehow the flame of the wick would reach the tank vapors, a few seconds after I lit it.
All I had to do was start the Porsche, lift the garage door open, get the SUV heading out the garage, light the Tiki torch wick, and let the idling engine move it towards the curve in the driveway where the Legion team leader was set up. Then, run like the wind towards the cove of the river again. I hoped Sandy would follow me. There, I could make a defensive stand.
“Sandy, I need you to stay with me!” I whispered. “You stay right with me and run as fast as you can!” She looked at me with calmness, and gave a quiet “woof.” We’d been through a lot the last couple of days, and somehow, she knew we were up against it. We were on our own, but at least we were together. I grabbed my Xikar cigar lighter from the golf bag in the garage and checked it carefully. Dialing the flame up to full height, I hoped the wick would catch and burn for just enough time…
Chapter 35
Since the garage door would take precious seconds to open, with the electric opener, I quietly disconnected the arm from the trolley. As quietly as I could, I opened the door, as it was out of sight of the team leader and the entry team. There, in the darkness, I readied myself for whatever was to come. It was time.
I stepped on the brake and hit the start button on the Turbo. It caught, with a quiet purr just loud enough to be heard. I eased the wheel over to the left just a bit, and made ready for the hardest task. The noise caught the attention of the team leader, and I could hear a loud command in some foreign language that must have been “Attack!” With my foot on the brake, I leaned in and dropped the transmission into reverse. Somehow I managed to get the SUV heading out of the garage and towards the driveway. I flicked the Xikar lighter and rushed around the front of the car to get to the gas tank filler neck on the back right.
There, as it was rolling back and curving gently to the left, I could just light the Tiki wick. “Light, light…stay lit…just stay lit” I pleaded. I grabbed the black rifle and headed out the driveway with Sandy…
As we ran towards the woods across the parking area at the garage, I looked back to see the Legion team member breach my back door at the deck. I heard a crash from the front, where no doubt the other team member had somehow broken the big wooden door. I could just make out an underhand toss of a flash-bang from the man at the back door, into the family room, and I doubled my speed. “Come on Sandy!” I urged.
Just as we reached the relative safety of the grass at the edge of the woods, the loudest noise I have ever heard reached me, and I could fell myself being picked up by some unseen force. “Kah – wump!” I rolled forward, tumbled, and ended up on my back. I grabbed Sandy to nestle her on my chest as I rolled on my side to turn my back towards the house.
The darkness of the night instantly ended with the blue-yellow flame from the house. Flames. Flames everywhere. Window glass shattered and flames poured out from the kitchen windows, and no doubt from every other window. I turned and sat up just enough to watch the Porsche slowly back up the driveway, with the dim glow of the Tiki wick just visible.
The house was just gone. Well, it was almost gone. You could make out where it used to be, and some of it was still standing and on fire.
Overhead, though, a new sound caught my attention. It was a loud buzzing sound, like a million cicadas on crack. Then, another sound, from another direction. I looked up and saw a drone, with seven rotors and sensors slung underneath. Someone was watching all this. I could only hope it was COBALT.
I pulled my feet underneath me, and tried to get up. For some reason, my body didn’t want to move like it should. I grabbed the rifle and used it as a crutch, keeping the muzzle up and the buttstock on the ground. Slowly I made it to a near standing position. “Sandy, we’ve got to get out of here!” The Porsche continued its slow progress towards the Legion team leader, but he had spotted me, and was heading right for me. Would the Porsche blow in time?
Whoever he was, he moved with the speed of an Olympic sprinter, even with body armor and a rifle. I raised the black rifle to fire, but realized I had forgotten to switch on the optic sight. “Crikey!” I shouted. Fumbling with the black switches on the side of the tubular sight, I finally got the reticle to illuminate. By this time, he was so close I could aim just by the light of the house on fire. My body shook with adrenalin and I couldn’t get the sights to settle down on the running man. This was it. Somehow, I had to…
“Kah-boom!” went the Porsche gas tank! Finally!
The Legion team leader felt the full force of the tank exploding, and went down, stumbling over his feet beside the car. There he rose, much quicker than I had expected, and headed right for me again. I raised the rifle but before I could find the trigger, the team leader fell. His body quivered a few times, and then, he was still.
I dropped the rifle and fell back into the grass. The bright light from the house fire became strangely dim, and it seemed like darkness was closing in all around me. What was going on….? What stopped him? “Sandy?”
Chapter 36
I don’t know how long I was out. All I remember is waking up to Sandy licking my face. It was dark, and I felt cold. Like it was winter. “Sandy…Sandy…it’s okay…” I struggled to sit up. The brush and trees surrounding me made it a challenge.
“Sir…Mr. Grey…are you feeling okay?”
I looked towards the sound of the quiet voice, and saw a familiar face. “Rhodes?” I questioned. “Weren’t you at the hotel the other night?”
“Yes sir…we came here to help.” Rhodes stood above me, dressed in khaki 5.11 tactical pants and a Wild Dunes Resort golf shirt.
“What happened? Oh…my house…the Porsche…” I moaned.
“Yes sir, a total loss. I’m so sorry. You did well, sir. You did what had to be done.”
I looked at the house, and saw the volunteer fire department hosing down what was left of it. “Did they find anyone?”
“Sir, if you’ll come with me, it will be much better. We need to get out of here, pronto. The county fire marshal will be here soon. We don’t want to be here when he is here.”
I struggled to my feet and felt around my body for injury. No blood. No bruises. No pain…wait, my waist area, right where my Sig P229 on my hip must have slammed into it when I fell. Rhodes grabbed the black rifle and put Sandy under his left arm. “Sir…this way…we have a unit waiting.”
I walked in front of Rhodes, slowly. We headed down the same path Della Mae and I took through the woods to the cove. There, I saw a grey boat, idling in the pre-dawn darkness. It must have been over 20 feet long. At the helm was a tall man, dressed as a professional bass fisherman. At the bow and stern were men dressed in black tactical uniforms, with HK 416 rifles. “Avery, this is Mr. Grey. We need to take him to our takeout point at US 522. Let’s get there before the sun comes up!”
“Yessir!” saluted Avery. I could tell Rhodes was a man in charge and on a mission. Sandy and I sat in the middle of the boat, on the left, behind the curving windshield. One man remained in the forward lounge area, nearly prone, while Rhodes and the other gentleman faced aft. Rhodes took a seat on the deck behind the windshield and stroked Sandy’s fur with some kindness. Her legs shook with fear with the motion of the boat and the sound of the engine. We quietly backed out onto the James River, then Avery wheeled the Boston Whaler Vantage 230 around and eased the Mercury Verado throttle forward.
“Mr. Grey, hang on to your dog, please. We are about to launch…”
And, in an instant, the Mercury Verado rocketed the boat out onto the James and we were heading eastward. Rhodes kept an eye out for anyone following us, and in a few minutes, I could sense the boat slowing. We ended up at the ramp at US 522 and expertly Avery brought the boat to a trailer that was backing into the cool green water. Once we were on the trailer, the truck slowly pulled the boat forward and out of the water. In a few minutes, Rhodes had Sandy and I out of the boat and on the ramp, at the parking lot.
“Sir, please wait here. No sir, over here, away from the light.” Rhodes pulled a radio from his pants and spoke cryptically into it. “Package ready for shipment!”
I could hear the crunch of gravel under tires as the truck backed the boat and trailer back into the water. Rhodes turned to wave at our pilot, and Avery in turn saluted as he backed the boat out into the main channel. In moments, the boat silently glided downstream, out of sight.
“Sir…in a few minutes, our transport team will be here for you. We’ll be traveling in three vehicles. You’ll be in the middle Suburban. Just relax and try to get some rest as we move out of this area to a place of safety.” Rhodes smiled. “I’ll be right behind you, and these gentlemen will be riding point.”
We waited for about fifteen minutes. I looked up at the bridge over the James and saw three vehicles screaming southward from US 6. All three whirled into the parking lot where I saw a perfect 180 turn from a black Suburban. “Let’s go!” encouraged Rhodes.
We ran quickly towards the Suburban. At the last moment, the side door swung open and I jumped into the bench seat behind the driver. Rhodes slammed the door shut and tapped the roof twice.
“Sandy, we’re on an adventure. Just hang on…we’ll be okay. Just stay here with me. I’ll keep you safe.” Sandy circled the seat beside me three times, then settled down with her head on my lap. I looked down at her, and sighed. “We’ll be okay.”
The convoy pulled onto 522 and headed south.
I looked to the east and saw the sun cracking through the low clouds. “Red sky in the morning, Sandy…you know what that means…”
Chapter 37
Even though it was after sunrise, I dozed off, there in the Suburban back seat. Sandy was curled up beside me for a while, then jumped down to the floor. I remember awakening from time to time as the road jostled me, or radio communication came in loudly. But, for about three hours, I was out.
“Mr. Grey, let’s get some breakfast!” Rhodes invited. “We’re here at The Bluegrass Grill & Bakery!” I could smell the bacon, and so could Sandy. We tumbled out and took a quick walk around the truck.
“Where are we?” I quizzed. “Have we been driving all this while?”
“We’re in Charlottesville. We took the scenic route!” Rhodes allowed. “Didn’t want to take the traditional interstate, just in case.”
“I am so tired…and I look like a bum…”
“We have a plan for your wardrobe…but let’s get a bit of grub first. I hear they have some interesting items on the menu!”
With that, I sent Sandy back into the Suburban, with a promise of eggs and bacon. I walked by the front door and saw the Richmond Times-Dispatch for sale in the blue metal box outside the door. The headline mentioned the ongoing questions about the President, but in the area above the headline I could see a small teaser “Goochland Home Destroyed By Gas Explosion Page A6.”
We settled into a booth and I struggled to find room for my tall frame with the incredibly athletic escorts with me. Stuck in the corner, I asked Rhodes if we could get a paper. Naturally, I was curious what the world knew about last night.
“Sure thing, Mr. Grey!” Rhodes bounded out of the booth with alacrity, and returned with a freshly printed paper. I flipped to page A6, and scanned the several inches of copy. I re-read it carefully…”Goochland home destroyed by natural gas explosion…homeowner feared dead…fire marshal found pipe defect leading to gas collecting near hot water heater…he suspects the pilot light ignited the heater and the collected gas…home a total loss…” I looked up. “Dead?”
“Mr. Grey, it is at present just a fear. But, of course, we did ensure that at least one body was found in the debris of the home. Only one…”
“But I remember two guys entering…and the third guy…I couldn’t get a shot off…”
Rhodes looked at me sharply to caution me to silence, as our waitress brought coffee and take our orders. In my state of mind, I could only think to order the most unusual thing I found, “The Luchador.” Rhodes and his compatriots requested omelettes from the list.
“Mr. Grey…we just can’t talk about what happened here. In time, you’ll be fully briefed.”
Our waitress returned with more coffee and the best breakfast I have ever had. OK, maybe only the second-best, but after my night, it was simply awesome. I saved a few morsels of eggs and bacon for Sandy, still snoozing in the Suburban outside.
The gravity of my situation hit me, when I was least expecting it. Here I was, in a town far away from home, with a team of COBALT associates, having breakfast while reliving the total destruction of my home. Everything gone. Clothes. Books. Computers. Everything. I watched my coffee cup begin shaking. I grabbed for it with my other hand, but it was too late. My hands just couldn’t stop shaking, and the coffee spilled all over the table before I dropped the with a loud clatter.
“Mr. Grey…why don’t we take Sandy’s food out to her?” Rhodes suggested. “I’ll bring some water in a bowl.” One of the silent men took my arm, and helped me back to the truck where the third associate had it idling. Sandy was waiting there for me, her head tilted, and her eyes wide open with some curiosity. I slipped back into my seat, and offered her the leftovers. For once, she ate with the energy of her departed friend Craz-E The Big Brown Dog. In moments, the eggs and bacon and half a biscuit were gone. Rhodes joined us with a small styrofoam take-out container of cool water, which she lapped up.
“Let’s take a few minutes here…maybe finish reading the paper?” Rhodes asked, but in a way I knew was much more a directive. “We’ll be heading out soon, to find you a few things.”
“Rhodes…it’s never going to be the same, is it?” Rhodes looked at me, quite directly, and shook his head.
Chapter 38
Everyone mounted up with takeout breakfast sandwiches, and we rolled on in the late morning sunlight. Rhodes turned around and explained the plan. We had three stops to make: (1) Get to a department store for the essentials (2) find a men’s clothing store for a new wardrobe and (3) swing by an electronics retailer for a Chromebook and a camera. Being in C-ville, near the world-famous UVa, it was easy to find all three. We managed to find a Dillard’s with a Big-and-Tall department, and in a couple of hours I had found shirts, pants, suitcases, and what-not. At Beecroft & Bull, I found a couple of nice suits in a 44 Long, and after some encouragement from my escort, they managed to quickly hem the trousers to my inseam. I also grabbed a blue blazer and a sport coat, along with some ready-made wool-poly trousers. Over at Best Buy, there was a sale on the Google Pixelbook, and I snagged the last one with the maximum RAM and processor speed. I also found a Sony RX10 Mark IV 
and a nice Ogio bag that would hold both. All of these purchases were made with an unusual deep blue-colored credit card Rhodes handed to me, with the name “Paladin” in silver block letters.
I couldn’t help but think of the old TV Western “Paladin.” Here, a heroic figure worked to right wrongs for those who couldn’t quite do this on their own. Way back in 1992 I had actually been given a replica business card from the series by my colleagues, after I had become somewhat infamous for traveling with a sidearm.
“Rhodes…this credit card…is it mine?”
“Yes sir! All yours. Don’t worry, the bill comes to us.”
“Do you think I could buy a few more things, as I see what else I’m missing?”
“Yes sir! You just take your time, discover what life requires, and let us cover it.”
With that, my fears of the future diminished just a bit. We drove on for a while, always on the back roads, and never heading anywhere I could figure out.
“Rhodes?”
“Yes sir?”
“Do you think I’ll ever see Della Mae again?”
“Oh yes sir, without a doubt! Don’t you remember the e-mail she sent you?”
The e-mail! Of course. The e-mail that started this entire conflagration! I was so excited that she was coming home. Now, home was a smoldering pile of wood and ashes.
“Rhodes?”
“Yes sir?”
“How do I let people know I’m alive…that I’m okay? My boss? My mom?”
“Paladin, that’s something that we’ll have to work on together. We have men working on this for you, right now. Top men.”
“Paladin?”
“Yes sir!” Rhodes smiled broadly.
Paladin…I liked it. It was a name with meaning. It was a name with history. It was a noble name. Paladin!
“Rhodes…where are we heading?”
“Somewhere safe, Paladin! We’ll be there soon enough. You just relax, and we’ll be there in about an hour,” Rhodes continued. “Here’s something that might come in handy…your new phone.”
I looked at the phone with some incredulity. It wasn’t like any phone I’d ever seen before. Clearly, it was military-grade, with a gunmetal grey case and black controls. It had an unusually large antenna above the touchscreen. On the screen was the symbol of the knight, rotating slowly.
“Touch the sensor…right there,” Rhodes guided. “And, wait for it…wait for it…”
DING! went the phone. A progress indicator whirled with a rainbow of colors, and in a moment, I could see what appeared to be a text messaging app, e-mail, calendar, to-do, and a browser.
bee-beE-BEEP! went another tone, and on the e-mail app a single indicator popped up. There, staring me in the face, was the red circle with the number 1 visible.
“Go ahead…it’s your new e-mail!” Rhodes smiled.
I tapped the icon, and in a flash, the e-mail system popped into view. A single e-mail was there. I tapped on the envelope to open it…
“Good morning, sweetheart! I know you’re probably wondering about a lot of things. It’s going to be okay. I promise. I love you. I can’t wait to see you. DM”
I looked up at Rhodes. He was smiling. I was smiling. It was the first time I’d smiled since the explosion. “It’ll be okay!” I sighed. “Sandy…Della Mae wants to see you!”
Sandy looked up for a moment and panted at the news, then put her head back in my lap. I stared at the e-mail. She can’t wait to see me!
“Rhodes…I’ve got to get a shower! Della Mae can’t see me like this!”
Chapter 39
Fearing another long drive, I was pleasantly surprised to find our convoy pulling off I-64 in only a dozen miles. We got off at Exit 107, and headed further west on US 250. In only a few minutes, we were at Misty Mountain Camp Resort. Pulling into the facility, the three Suburbans wandered through the grounds until we came to a large campsite. There, we stopped. The silence of the campground was punctuated by faint truck noise from I-64, as the big rigs came down Afton Mountain.
“Rhodes — what’s the plan?” I queried.
“Well, we’re finally here. This is where we part company. This is your campsite. We’ll drop your bags, and you can take a walk to the bathhouse right over there for that shower you’ve been waiting for. We’ll stick around until you’re back, and watch Sandy for you.”
Somewhat confused, but dying for a hot shower, I grabbed my new shaving kit and a change of clothes, and headed for the bathhouse. I’ve been in a lot of fine hotels in my travels, but that campground bathhouse was as luxurious as any, at this time in my life. The smell of the home fire, bits of ash in my hair, and dirt from my hiding in the woods all washed away. It felt so good. I wandered back to the campsite with a spring in my step. Sandy came up to me and smelled me all over. I think she approved.
“So, you guys are leaving?”
“Yes sir, we’ve got to get back to DC. Lots going on, as you can imagine.”
“I don’t even want to know. After last night, I have a new appreciation for what you all go through.” I shook my head in amazement. “How did I survive last night?”
“Well, you did good. You did real good. Using the house as a weapon was the ideal tactic. Both guys that stormed the castle took a very long dirt nap.”
“But the leader…the guy near the Porsche…what happened? I tried to get a shot off, but never could. He just…he just went down?”
“Mr. Grey…I mean, Paladin, you never know who might be watching over you. Based on the after-action-report I’ve seen, you were ready to engage and could have succeeded, but circumstances dictated that another asset neutralize the third attacker.”
“There was someone there? Someone at my house?”
“Sir, I wish I could tell you more, but I think it would be best if you waited to be de-briefed and informed officially.” Rhodes smiled, thinly. “Excuse me…I need to respond to this…” Rhodes turned to his phone and spoke somewhat cryptically into it. “You’re three minutes out? We’ll be leaving now. Over.”
“Sir, it’s been a pleasure. We may see each other again, and I certainly hope to do so. For now, though, we do need to leave. Please stay here at this campsite for a few minutes. You’re safe here.”
And, with quick athletic movements borne of years of training, the men who had been with me moved into their vehicles and headed out before I could even wave goodbye. They vanished down the dirt roads of the campground, and the stillness returned. I looked to the west, towards the mountains, and wondered what life would hold for me now. Afton Mountain, and the Shenandoah Valley seemed like a place I could stay forever.
But before I could even dream of visiting the many wineries in the mountains, Sandy began to growl softly. I turned back to the campsite drive, and saw what had alarmed her. There, growing larger by the second, was a black Ford F350 pulling a fifth wheel RV. With obvious skill, the Ford rolled into the campsite pull-through, and eased to stop.
The doors to the cab opened, and a gentleman wearing blue pin-stripe suit stepped out from the passenger door. I didn’t recognize him — a man with a kindly face, wire-frame glasses, and a professorial air. He strode quickly to me with a grin and outstretched hand, and said “Paladin…so glad to finally meet you…I’m Bob… Bob LaForge.”
“Great to meet you Bob…I guess you’re here with…?” and I pointed to the driver.
“Oh yes, he’s just finishing up some messages back to HQ,” Bob continued. “You’ve had quite an evening, haven’t you! I really appreciated how you overcame that Legion team. The reports I’ve read are, well, amazing for a civilian.”
The driver’s door to the F350 opened, and around the massive grille came another fellow in a matching suit. I looked up as he took off his fedora, and saw the unforgettable pure white hair of the man on the airplane. “You?”
“Yep, it’s me! Still traveling for the company!”
“It’s Lawrence, right? Lawrence Dysart?” I asked, thinking back to that flight from STL.
“At your service!”
Lawrence reached into his suit pocket, and pulled out a pack of Marlboro cigarettes. Expertly and absent-mindedly, he extracted a smoke from the pack, and placed it between his thin lips. With the flick of a classic Zippo, the filtered cigarette was alight. I could see three gold rings near the filter, as he took a long drag. My head tilted back as I finally connected the cigarette in his hand, with the butts I had seen in my yard and around the neighborhood.
“It was you!” I nearly shouted, as I pointed at Lawrence with some excitement. “It was your cigarettes I found!”
“Yep…it was me. And, sometimes Bob here.”
Bob nodded quietly, and tapped his suit pocket. “Pall Malls…”
Lawrence went on, “We knew they were after you. We just didn’t know who, how many, or when they planned to attack. We set up posts around your house, but didn’t want to alarm you by letting you know.”
Bob added, “We were there all the time. You were in danger, but never alone. We may look old, but with age comes wisdom. And, one of us is pretty good with a rifle.”
Of course! The third Legion member went down from a rifle shot, from far away. I couldn’t hear anything after the Cayenne explosion, and the way he went down, I should have known.
“Thanks…I mean it…I really mean it…how in the world do I say thanks? I’ve never had anyone save my life before…do we hug?”
“Whoa, big fella! I’m just here for the pizza and wings!” Lawrence grinned. “I like you, Paladin. You’re gonna be fine,” he reached down to pet Sandy. “Just fine.”
Bob had returned to the big Ford while I chatted with Lawrence, and reached up to the back door. As soon as it cracked open, Sandy took off like a rocket and bounded up into the cab.
“Sandy…come back! What are you doing?” Bob continued opening the door, and extended his hand inside the cab. “Sandy!”
Chapter 40
The door to the big Ford swung open slowly. Bob turned to me and grinned. Sandy hopped out, and dashed towards me running as fast as she could. After circling me and running back to the truck, I saw the most beautiful woman in the world stepping out. She had long brown hair, with waves cascading down her shoulders, a pink top, Wranglers, and what looked like full ostrich-quill cowboy boots.
“Della Mae?” I asked, with some incredulity. “Is that you?”
The most beautiful woman in the world looked down for a moment, then ran towards me. I jogged her way as fast as my battered body could, and reached out with both arms wide. In a moment, our hearts met as our arms wrapped tightly around each other.
“Look at you!” I exclaimed. “You are so…so…amazingly beautiful!”
Della Mae looked up at me. Her eyes were filled with tears, some streaming down her face. “Are you okay?”
I nodded.
“No, I mean it…are you really okay? I was so worried! I saw the whole thing on satellite. It was horrible!”
“I managed,” I said quietly. “I couldn’t have made it without Lawrence and Bob. And whoever else was here. You all are something else.”
“Well, we had no idea how it would all actually happen. I hate that your lovely home was destroyed!”
“It’s only a house,” I offered. “All of it can be replaced. Please, don’t cry…I’m okay!”
And, for the next few minutes we just stood there, arms wrapped around each other. Tears flowed freely. You couldn’t stop them.
“I love your new hair!”
“I love your new name!”
Bob and Lawrence shooed us to the picnic table at the campsite. There, a veritable feast was laid out from a Yeti cooler dragged over from the F350. We dug into fried chicken, cold, with Bush baked beans and coleslaw. I looked across the table at Della Mae between each bite, and wondered how I was so lucky to have her in my life. From time to time Bob or Lawrence would interject “How about those Cowboys?” and we would all laugh, recognizing how silly we were acting.
“Well, Della Mae, I guess we better be getting along…” Lawrence suggested. “Bob and I need to get back to the real world.”
“Guys…how can I thank you enough…?” Della Mae smiled. “You saved Paladin…”
“All in a day’s work!” Lawrence joked. “Paladin, I put another black rifle in the RV for you. It’s a Daniel Defense DDM4V7 with optics. Should last you a while.”
“Thanks, Lawrence!”
“And, the trailer is all stocked with food, water, drinks, clothes, and plenty of fuel for the generator. You could live for weeks in that thing!” exclaimed Bob. “And, in the very back, you’ll be pleased to find a special two-wheeler outfitted just for you!”
“Thanks guys!” Della Mae shared. “You all mean so much to me. I will always remember you!”
“Hey…here’s our ride…best be saddling up!” Lawrence jerked his thumb towards a black Ford Interceptor. “Happy trails!”
With that, our friends hopped in the sedan, left the campsite and headed wherever gentlemen go after a mission. I couldn’t help but wonder where the Marlboro and Pall Mall cigarette butts might be dropped next. I looked over the table at Della Mae. She was just staring at me. “Maybe we should put these things away?” I suggested. “Can’t let this good chicken get too warm out here. Let’s check out this RV trailer!”
Wandering through the large fifth-wheel trailer, I could see it was amazingly set up. Every creature comfort had been thought through, and literally nothing was needed. I dragged my few belongings into the RV and plunked them on the bed in the back.
“What’s next, Della Mae?”
“Well, I have some good news, and some better news!”
“Give me the good news first…”
“It’s over. COBALT, I mean! I’m done. It’s time for someone else to take the reins!”
“Really? You were obviously perfect for the role…”
“No matter how perfect I am for the role, I have a new role. That’s the better news!”
“Tell me more!”
“I have decided that I am going to marry you! I am going to be your wife!”
My heart leapt with joy. At least I think that’s what it did. Without an EKG, I’m only guessing, but it seemed like my heart came alive, after years of living alone. I thought back to the first day I saw Della Mae, and now all these years later, a dream coming true. She looked up at me, with a big smile. “I’m yours…”
We kissed. Slowly, at first, then, with more intensity. “Are you sure? You really want to marry me?”
“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” she looked up with a trace of fear in her eyes.
“That’s what I’ve always wanted! I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. I just can’t believe after all these years…” my voice trailed off.
In that moment, that special moment, the wind picked up, and I heard the noise of a thousand locusts overhead. Looking up, I saw two helicopters, both black. They looked like specially-equipped UH60Z models. One hovered quite near the RV, while the second stayed aloft.
“I thought you were done?” I asked, pointing upward.
“I am! But we still need cover for a while. Let’s get on the road and I’ll tell you all about it!”
And so, we jumped into the F350, fired up the 7.3L diesel, and eased out of the campsite. As a new RV driver, I managed to avoid scraping the trailer on the tree branches overhanging the site, but did drag one of the wheels over a boulder at the corner of the drive.
“That’s okay…I’m sure the tire will be fine. We can fix anything!”
We headed westward on US 250, over the Shenandoah Mountain range, with the curvy road challenging me every moment. I could barely make out the black helicopter just in front of us as we found our way towards Interstate 81.
“Where do you want to go?” I inquired. “Looks like we have a full tank…”
“Let’s go west. Let’s go as far west as we can, to find a special place for our wedding.”
“How about Sedona?” I suggested. “It’s west. It’s beautiful. I bet we could find a place there for this big rig!”
Della Mae nodded with excitement. “Sedona!” I turned the truck southward on I-81, heading towards I-40 in North Carolina and Tennessee.
“I bet we can make Maggie Valley before sunset!” There, I knew a place I might take Della Mae dancing.
I looked over at this beautiful woman, and started to ask questions…questions that needed to be asked. Am I dead, officially? Am I employed? Where do I get money? How do we survive without jobs? But, looking at her, dozing peacefully in this luxurious crew cab truck, I thought better of asking. No matter the answers, what really mattered was right there inside the truck. Us. We were together. Nothing else mattered. I thought of one of my favorite songs…Home Is Where The Heart Is…and my heart was right here…
I pointed the big rig down the road and dropped the hammer. The torque of the big diesel pulled us up the hills like we were on flat ground. Mile after mile, the road meandered beneath our wheels. The road, well, it was our reality. And I was glad to be on that road.
As the sun slowly set, I realized we’d be on that road for a while. I looked at Sandy in the rear view mirror, curled up in the back seat. “We’ll be okay, Sandy,” I whispered. “We’re on the road to reality!”
Seeking To Understand 