Typhoon of Steel

by Marshall Miller

  Other attendees began to pay their respects, and present wedding gifts. Aleks helped to corral them for Abigail, a stack soon forming on a side table reserved for that function.

  Abigail saw a rather tall woman in full Russian military dress uniform bestrewn with every medal and ribbon imaginable walking toward her. She began to stand and the President of Free Russia waved her back into her seat.

  “Sit, relax. I was a bride once. You will soon appreciate those times where you can sit and relax.” Alina Federov spoke with a bit of a raspy voice. A large scar that circled her throat pointed to the reason for the raspiness. Tall, slender, yet with noticeable curves, and shiny black hair in a tight bun, it was rumored she had been groomed by her family to be a fashion model. In actual fact, she had rebelled, gone into the military instead, and had seen action in Chechnya, the Crimea, and the Middle East. She was one of the few relatively senior commanders who had survived and fled to Siberia in response to the Tschaaa Invasion. And now she was President after the former President had died of a massive heart attack.

  Aleks stepped up and gave a short curtsey. “Madam President. We are honored for you to attend Abigail’s wedding.”

  “Ah, Colonel Smirnov,” she replied in Russian. “You look different in female vestments. I see having two sons has been good to you.”

  Aleks blushed. “I still feel a bit like a cow. I am working hard to get back into fighting shape.”

  “I think you have been successful. And you, the beautiful bride. I was told you speak Russian like a native born.”

  “My big sister here, Aleks, has helped me with my accent, Madam President.”

  Alina Federov grinned broadly. “Well, I would swear you were Russian born. But here, let us cut to the chase so that others may pay their respects.” The Russian President handed up an ornate box, about six inches square. “Compliments of the Russian people, my dear. A certain incorrigible training officer here has been singing your praises to anyone who will listen.”

  Abigail took it carefully.

  “Here, open it. It is to be viewed, appreciated.”

  Abigail untied the ornate ribbon in a deliberate manner, then slowly opened the box. She folded the sides down, looked at the object with in and gasped.

  Aleks stepped up, and looked. Her eyes went wide, stuttered and stammered, finally spitting out what she was trying to say.

  “A Faberge egg. My God. It is a treasure. How…?”

  “From the former collection of the Imperial Museum. One of the few pieces still in our possession. Compliments of Free Russia.”

  Abigail managed to shut her mouth and speak. “I do not deserve this. It should stay where all Russian citizens can view, appreciate it.”

  The Russian President snorted. “What, and risk it being destroyed in the next attack? The Squids and their minions are still active in Russia, harvesting when they can to keep us off balance. It has more of a chance surviving with you. And, you deserve it. Do not argue with the Russian President.”

  Abigail smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Ma’am. I’m just not used to getting so many…things all at once. And such nice things.”

  President Federov patted her hand. “You are no longer a child soldier. You are a young married woman with a loving husband. Who, I daresay, will help you have healthy children in the foreseeable future. So, you will have, and deserve, nice things. Especially after we expel those pieces of shit Squids from our homelands. Now, I must let someone else pay their respects.” With that last comment, she turned and walked back to where Madam President was standing.

  Abigail carefully repackaged the egg, Aleks setting it well aside so that it would not be broken. Then other wedding guests came forward to pay their respects, give more gifts. It was becoming a bit of a happy blur to Abigail. General Reed then appeared with a microphone. “As the adopted father of the bride, I think it’s time to present and cut the wedding cake. Gunnery Sergeant Stubbs, if you will do the honors.”

  From a back hallway, Doc Stubbs rolled in a massive and ornate wedding cake. Six tiers, the top one with hand carved representations of the wedding couple, compliments of Thor Heyerdahl and his New Vikings. On the next tier were further carvings representing all the various peoples and groups whose lives had crossed with Abigail. Included was a miniature of the huge statue of Fuzz which Heyerdahl had commissioned. The original statue now resided in the front hallway of the new Battalion Headquarters for the 101st SAU, the Banshees, as per Abigail’s wishes.

  The bride and groom walked up to the grinning Doc Stubbs.

  “It is…gorgeous.” Abigail exclaimed. She grabbed and hugged Doc, who protested.

  “Hey, easy with the ribs. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

  General Reed laughed. “I always knew the Marines were good at killing people and breaking things. I did not realize creating artistic wedding cakes was a hidden talent.”

  Doc Stubbs had chortled. “Just this one. A much hidden talent.”

  Out from the crowd came Hannah Weitz, with an ornate silver Squid Killer blade she had created for this specific occasion. It seemed fitting it was used to cut the wedding cake. And of course, the bride and groom were expected to feed each other portions of the first piece, which they did without the expected comic smashing of the cake into each other’s faces. That was not their style. Soon, Doc Stubbs was slicing the cake up for serving with quick, sure cuts.

  Abigail and Ichiro sat back down and watched the festivities. A large band made up of both military and local civilians began to play, starting out with slow waltz and traditional fox trot. With that, General Reed approached the new bride.

  “There is a tradition that the father of the bride has a dance with his daughter. Ichiro, may I borrow your new wife?”

  “Of course, General. You are probably better at western dances than I am. Please, dance with Abigail.”

  General Reed offered his arm, Abigail took it and they went to the dance floor.

  “I am very inexperienced, General, so I hope I don’t step on your feet.”

  “Torbin told me you caught on quite quickly at your birthday.”

  Abigail frowned a bit at the mention of that dance, which had been with the now disgraced Prophet.

  “Did I say something wrong, Abigail?” asked the concerned General.

  Abigail sighed. “My birthday started out nice. But now I know the way I was treated by the Prophet was all a lie. He may have been a good dancer, but he was a horrible surrogate father.”

  General Reed was not a tall man, so Abigail in her heels made her actually taller. But he did not care as he looked a bit up into her eyes.

  “Remember the good of that day, Abigail. We have enough bad things going on. Torbin said you were happy. Smiling. Remember that.”

  Abigail then smiled. “You are a good father, General. You know what to say to an insecure, fearful daughter on her wedding day to make her feel better. Thank you.” With that, she hugged him.

  “You are making this old General choke up,” John Reed said with a lump in his throat.

  Abigail let out a bit of a girlish giggle. “You are not old. Come on, let’s prove that on the dance floor.”

  General Reed grinned. “Okay. Then I guess I’ll try something I haven’t done in years. It’s called the Viennese waltz. Just follow my lead, it’s a bit athletic for a waltz.”

  “I apologize in advance if I step on your feet, my father,” she said in Russian.

  “Just use the same excellent coordination you have with martial arts, Abigail. You will have no problems in following my lead.” With that, the General gave a special hand signal to the band leader. And, in moments, the music changed to what the General requested.

  Most people hadn’t seen a sweeping waltz like this, other than a few Russians. Within moments, people were off the dance floor and watching the bride and her adopted father glide in long steps around the dance floor, turning and twirling a bit. Abigail easily matched the General’s steps, and soon it looke
d as if Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers had been re-incarnated on the defunct Dancing with the Stars television show. The band leader, seeing the excellent display of a couple dancing, kept his personnel playing the music for an extra complete set. The couple did not notice. Abigail soon had a large smile on her face as she discovered the fun of the Viennese waltz. She began to laugh, General Reed soon chiming in. Then the music ended.

  Abigail hugged John Reed to her, and whispered in his ear, “Thanks for making my memory of dancing once again a good one.”

  “You’re very welcome,” the General was able to answer before loud applause and shouts of approval filled the hall. The General escorted his adopted daughter back to her husband, who stood and bowed to him.

  “You and my wife make an excellent dance couple.”

  “Ichiro, you would be just fine if you tried the same dance. My understanding is that you and Abigail are a sight to behold when you two practice swordplay. There is a similar physical flow of movement in many types of dancing.”

  Ichiro smiled a bit sheepishly. “I am afraid I will step on Abigail’s feet. I was never taught how to dance in the western way.”

  “Trust me, son. You’ll do just fine. Now, it is time for me to mingle with our special guests.” He kissed Abigail on her cheek, turned and walked toward Madam President and the other government dignitaries.

  As General Reed left, General Huff from Deseret approached. He was no longer the overweight officer with a pie addiction who Torbin and Abigail knew. He had slimmed down a lot, but added some gray hair that aged him.

  Abigail smiled and hugged him, “Thank you for bringing some of my fellow Twenty as the honor guard, General. It was so very nice to see and talk to them again.”

  General Huff blushed a bit at the hug. “You will always be a Daughter of Deseret, Abigail. We owe you so very much for your service, and your exposing the bad that was among us. We were truly blind, and would not see what was in front of us. We saw what we wanted to see, not the truth.”

  “General, that is the past, and is not your fault…”

  “No, Abigail,” the General interrupted. “I allowed myself to be the toady to a false Prophet because it was easier to play the role of a military leader rather than be one. I have to accept much of the blame. I will stand before God someday and be judged. It’ll not serve me well to deny my guilt.”

  Abigail saw a deep remorse in his eyes, which hurt her. He had always been a nice, joyful person, even if people thought he was a bit of a dullard as the commanding general of Deseret armed forces. Everyone knew that Prophet at the time was the one who called all the shots. However, General Huff had always made sure his people were taken care of and not abused. Except, it seemed, Abigail and the Twenty.

  She reached out and took his hand. “I would say I forgive you if I thought what happened was your fault. It was not. But if you demand forgiveness in order to feel better, consider it given.”

  General Huff tried to smile, then tried to wipe a tear away before anyone noticed it. Ichiro stepped forward and bowed low.

  “You do us honor with your presence, General. You do us more honor with the equipment and support you are now providing the Free Nations Armed Forces. I humbly add my voice to my loving wife that you have nothing to apologize. If things had not happened the way they had, Abigail and I would never had met. So, I thank you. You are part of what brought us together, for which I will be eternally grateful.”

  Abigail smiled and grabbed her love’s arm, pulling him close.

  The General’s face broke into a big grin. “You two are so right together. So if you say I was part of that happening, I will be happy to accept the blame.” He reached inside his military dress blouse and produced a letter-sized reinforced envelope.

  “The people of Deseret wish to pay their respects on this glorious day. There is a note from somebody you both know, who asked if you would please read it together.” General Huff stole a kiss on Abigail’s cheek, grabbed and firmly shook Ichiro’s hand, then turned in a quick motion and walked away.

  “The General apparently wants us to have privacy with this note,” Ichiro opined. He opened the envelope and looked inside.

  “Look, my love. Silver and gold rings.” Abigail looked in the envelope and saw some two dozen of each kind of ring. The gold and silver rings had been placed on silken cords that were inserted in their centers and tied off at the end. Rings on a silken ring was the effect. Ichiro began to read the short note contained in the envelope.

  “Dear Special Ones. The rings contained with this note were donated by citizens of Deseret. They once belonged to loved ones who have since passed on, many due to the depravations of the alien Squids. They wish that you make use of their worth in coming years as you start and raise a family, or to help others in need.”

  “I think of you every day, and pray for you every night. Abigail, I hope someday you can forgive me for not realizing what evil was being done to you in the name of Deseret, the Church, and the Lord. “

  “May God bless you on this special day. May God keep you, friends and family safe for all eternity.”

  Ichiro paused, then read the last part.

  “Signed by President-Elect Ester Smith. In the name of the citizens of Deseret.”

  Abigail sat stoned faced. “Excuse me. I need to goes to the ladies room.” Then she was up on her feet and moving.

  “Abby-san…” Ichiro tried to say but Abigail was already walking away.

  Torbin happened to standing within earshot of the conversation, saw Abigail’s reaction and saw Ichiro’s look of dismay. He walked up to his blood brother.

  “Ichiro, just let her be for a minute. I was there when she had her birthday and send off party. She thinks she was completely betrayed by the Prophet, and thus his wife also.”

  The new husband looked at Torbin. “I talked with Ester Smith that day when we confronted the Prophet at the border with Wyoming. She was innocent, knew nothing. I could tell by the way she reacted, was so upset.”

  Torbin sighed. “I know. I got the same feeling when I talked with Mrs. Smith. She just hitched her wagon to the wrong horse. Now, she’s suffering the consequences. But since they just elected her President, someone must trust her. I’ll talk to General Huff. I think he’ll tell me about what is going on.” He put his hand on Ichiro’s shoulder. “Welcome to the world of being married to a woman you love and adore. It takes some patience.”

  Ichiro smiled a little. “Yes, Torbin-san. But I have learned much patience in my life. I will make this work. I will see her happy.”

  Abigail stood before the mirror in the ladies room, daubing her eyes to save the light makeup Aleks had helped apply. She was stopping herself from breaking down and having a full-fledged cry. She knew she should have gotten over the fact that much which happened to her in Deseret was based on a series of lies. She had really trusted Ester Smith and her husband the Prophet. Then she had almost died because of the lies and deceit. A good Christian was supposed to be able to forgive, to show mercy. Yet every time she was forced to remember anything about Ester Smith and her husband, her soul began to rage.

  “I see you, cousin,” a Norwegian voice came from behind her. She looked at the reflection in the mirror and saw Brynhildr. She had not even heard her come in.

  “I see you too, cousin,” she answered in Norwegian.

  “Bad memories?”

  “How could you tell, Brynhildr?”

  Her cousin approached and gently clasped her hand. “I knew it had to be about the past as your present and future are filled with happiness and love. You have a husband who is strong yet kind, who loves you with all his heart and soul. So, it must be the past.”

  Abigail sighed. “The source of nightmares.”

  “We all have bad memories from our past, my cousin. Most of them thanks to the Squids. But I for one refuse to let them ruin my present, or my future. Especially when we have friends and family to help us.”

  Abigail looked into
the blue eyes of the larger woman, a true Shield Maiden. “You’re not much older than I. Where did you get all this wisdom?”

  Brynhildr chuckled. “I watch. I listen. I remember conversations, actions of others, and use them as examples of what to do or not to do. Commissioner Miller says that is why I am such a good Special Agent, a criminal investigator.”

  “Those characteristics are also what make you such a good friend and cousin, Brynhildr. That and love and loyalty.” Abigail grabbed and hugged her cousin. “I’m so blessed to have all these good friends and family in a place where, not to longer ago, I was a stranger.”

  “Abigail, how you treat people usually reflects on how they treat you. You are a good soul. So, you bring the best out of all those who are around you, unless they are evil like the Krakens. No one can help them.”

  “None of this would have happened if not for me meeting Torbin. He’s the true catalyst.”

  “A catalyst without good material does little, Abigail.”

  Abigail giggled. “The sage speaks the truth again. Come, you have brought me out of my funk. And as befitting a sage such as you, reminded that I need to thank a certain crazy Marine for all the good things that have happened. Especially being introduced to Ichiro.” With that, she looped arms with her cousin and strode out of the restroom.

  Torbin was keeping Ichiro company with Aleks standing nearby as Abigail and Brynhildr approached, arm in arm and now smiling.

  “Abby…” Ichiro began but Abigail cut him off.

  “Sorry I disappeared, my love. It has nothing to do with you.” She grabbed her husband, hugged and kissed him. “I still have some bad memories to sort out.”

  Abigail then turned to Torbin, stepped over and wrapped him in a bear hug.

  “Ouch! Damned lady wrestler. Watch the ribs, please.”

  Abigail laughed and released the pressure. She looked into his eyes.

  “Torbin Bender, in front of friends and family, I must formally thank you for everything that you’ve done and caused to happen. You are the reason I am here, the reason I met Aleks, the reason I met Ichiro, and the reason I am married. I love you, big brother. I will always owe you.”