Necessary Sin

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Necessary Sin Page 17

by Brian W Casey


  The man he knew as Hector Fuentes was pointing a gun at August. August had obviously been hit once already. He could see Hectors men coming out from hiding like ants drawn to a dropped piece of candy.

  Saine placed the crosshairs of the scope on his target and squeezed the trigger. The bullet passed through Hector’s neck as Saine chambered another round. Everyone took cover not knowing where the shot came from. Saine watched Hector’s men scanning the roof tops for the shooter but the smoke was Saine’s shield.

  Saine pulled out his cell and dialed a preset code and then returned to his sniper mission. It was becoming increasingly difficult to find targets through the smoke. Saine ran to other rooms and followed the same procedure breaking through windows and finding targets.

  Finally, his phone call paid off. The glass in the broken windows rattled as the drone of several helicopters hovered over the edge of the business district. Ropes dropped from the sky as Marines began repelling down. It didn’t take long for the Marines to out-number the oppositions on the ground.

  In a brief fire fight, the Marines killed or rounded up all the attackers.

  Other Marines were working with fire personnel and first responders to bring the fires under control.

  Saine stashed his weapons back in the duffle and removed any evidence of ever being in the room. He carried his duffle down the back stairs, avoiding contact with anyone. Working his way back through alleys on a planned route he met his ride at the far end of the main business district. An old pickup took him north out of town as a flood of Marine transports, fire trucks and ambulances came from the opposite direction.

  Saine reached down in his shirt and tugged at a lanyard around his neck. Pulling it up the entire length he held a wooden cross, rounded on the edges from wear. Without the driver even noticing, he kissed the cross and to himself said,

  “Now you can rest father. Watch over my sister.

  He dropped the cross and the leather string into an envelope, scribbled August Hawk’s name and address on it and handed it over to the driver.

  Chapter 100

  Michelle fought her way through the rubble to the Courthouse lawn. She was delayed by countless citizens who called out for aid. When she arrived at the Courthouse she could barely breathe from the smoke.

  Michelle found Susan. She was barely conscious. Michelle tried to stop the bleeding but knew it was already too late.

  Susan with a limp grip on Michelle’s arm begged her to stop trying to save her.

  “Get August.”

  Michelle looked up the steps to see three people lying on the steps and walk. She could identify only August by his usual jeans and polo shirt. She left Susan on the walk and ran past a man and woman. The woman was the one that appeared at August bedside only days ago. The disfigured side of her face was facing the sky.

  She reached August already trying to stop the bleeding himself. Forgetting about Susan, Michelle hugged August as he sat against the Courthouse wall. She could feel his blood seeping through her shirt.

  She kissed him lightly on his cheek as she moved her hand over his wound.

  “What’s happening August. Who are these people?”

  August began to respond, but Michelle remembered Susan. She pulled August up using his good arm.

  “Come with me. Susan been shot, and she wants you.”

  August could only imagine. This woman had some explaining as to why she hid evidence from him.

  When they approached Susan, August felt a wave of satisfied revenge then guilt for even having the thought.

  Susan, with little energy left motioned for August to come closer. She whispered in his ear. Michelle could only watch as the two had a private conversation in each other’s ears. When finished, August traced the sign of the cross on her forehead and Michelle could hear him say,

  “Your sins are forgiven, go in peace” as he gently laid her head down on the sidewalk.

  Susan was gone.

  August walked back up the steps past Hector whose blood was running down the Courthouse steps. Angelina was laying just above him on the sidewalk.

  August lifted Angelina’s head and cradled it in his arms. He stroked her hair pulling it back behind her ear. He then rolled her over revealing to Michelle the beautiful woman she was.

  August held the baby in his arms that he tried to protect years ago.

  A steady rain began to fall soon turning to a heavy down pour. August and Michelle sat on the sidewalk holding Angelina as the rain began to ease the fires and wash the blood down the steps. The woman who had been the source of so much destruction was now in the arms of someone who loved her but didn’t know why. August traced the cross on her forehead and with Michelle’s help, carried her out of the rain.

  One week later

  Chapter 101

  August and Michelle stepped out of a plane at the Buenos Aires airport. They waited as a coffin was carried off the plane and taken to a waiting hearse. The hearse, with August and Michelle following close behind in a mud caked Land Rover, snaked through backcountry roads. Their destination, Angelina’s home village. When they arrived, August was surprised to see how it was rebuilt from the days of destruction.

  The coffin of Angelina was carried into a small stone church where they were greeted by the local missionary priest. When Mass finished, Angelina’s coffin was carried back down the aisle of the church by men who were either cousins or uncles of Angelina. One of the cousins reminded August of the stranger in town Bob Saine, but he excused it as being a foolish thought. Now that Hector was gone, the people in the village were no longer afraid to embrace their Angelina for who she really was. As the coffin passed August, he turned to Michelle who pulled from her bag the cross that occupied August kitchen drawer.

  August placed the cross on the coffin and watched as it was carried out the back door of the mission to the cemetery to be buried beside her mother and father.

  Chapter 102

  The Next Day

  August and Michelle traveled together to the airport. It was a long four-hour ride spent in awkward silence for both. August wasn’t sure if it was hotter and more humid here than he remembered or if it was just the nerves and lack of air conditioning in the Land Rover.

  Michelle kept hoping that August would reach out and just touch her like he did back in the hospital.

  August wanted her. All the events of the past week seemed to have never happen with her sitting beside him.

  When the Rover pulled up to the airport, neither were anxious to step out. August finally came around and opened her door. Walking into the concourse they looked like a typical tourist couple winding down after a long vacation.

  August gave Michelle a tight hug. He pulled her close and could feel the contours of her body, wishing to himself that he could hold onto her just a little longer. He hoped the smell of her perfume and the tightness of her body would never leave his memory.

  Michelle kissed August hard on the lips, a vow that she made to herself that she was going to carry out. August allowed it to happen and even go on longer than it should, but he knew what had to be done. He gently pushed Michelle away and with no other words spoken since they left the village, he walked her to the gate.

  Michelle checked in at the gate with August standing by her side holding her Marine backpack, the only piece of luggage she traveled with. She waved her ticket in August direction, reached out and touched him on the shoulder and walked through the door to the tarmac and the waiting plane bound for California.

  When the door closed behind her, August felt like his feet were glued to the floor. When he could finally move them, he walked slowly to his gate while fumbling for his passport.

  “Can I help you sir,” in English laced with a Latin accent.

  “Yes, I should have a ticket waiting for me, Father, Francis Stratton.

  On board the plane back to the United States, Francis settled into his seat, it felt cool after the days of jungle humidity. He watched out the window as
workers loaded suitcases and others tended fuel and food trucks. The sun made him squint and made him a little sleepy, something he hadn’t had much of a chance to do lately.

  He gave in to sleep.

  Francis was startled awake by the pungent odor of cigar and body stench.

  He could see through the crack of the seat in front of him, a man with a wild tropical print shirt.

  Francis listened as the man garble voice called the attendant “sweetie” and ordered a shot of whiskey.

  When finished he turned and looked with one eye through the separation in seats.

  Francis made a half reach for a gun that wasn’t there.

  Balifour’s words drooled out of his mouth, “Good morning Father, you enjoy the flight.”

  ###

  This is the night, when Christ broke the prison-bars of death and rose victorious from the underworld. Our birth would have been no gain, had we not been redeemed. O wonder of your humble care for us! O love, O charity beyond all telling, to ransom a slave you gave away your Son! O truly necessary sin of Adam, destroyed completely by the Death of Christ! O happy fault that earned so great, so glorious a Redeemer! O truly blessed night, worthy alone to know the time and hour when Christ rose from the underworld!

  Taken from The Exultet, New Roman Missal 3rd edition

 

 

 


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