Aleks snorted. “Just married hours, already the secrets begin to come out…ow. You pinched me.”
“My wife, you will not begin to strew distrust and disharmony on this very first day of wedded bliss,” Torbin stated. “For once, you will listen to me, your husband. Be nice.” He put his index finger to Aleks’ mouth as if to shush her and she gently bit it.
“Hm. Are you trying to tell me something, wife?”
With an impish grin, Aleks replied. “I have been a bad girl, a shrew. My husband must discipline me.”
Abigail was watching the exchange out of the corner of her eye and began to laugh. So this is what married life could be.
“You laugh, little sister?”
“You two fight and make up better than anyone I know. Now, let’s watch my husband display his hidden musical talent.”
Ichiro had performed a quick tuning check of the shamisen. His voice again rang out.
“The music tells the complete story of how I and my beloved met, out trials and tribulations. Then our coming here, to celebrate our love for each other with you all.”
A lump formed in Abigail’s throat at the sound of the near poetry. She had forgotten that a true Samurai in the old fold was a highly trained and educated warrior poet. Now, that tradition would be displayed this night.
Ichiro started out slowly, lightly strumming the strings of his instrument. The tempo began to pick up, but was still moderated. Then, in a couple of chords, his fingers took off. Complicated, quick, and increasing in volume, sounds began to cascade from Ichiro and his instrument. The Japanese in attendance could sense the story in his song, many began to show evidence of tears. As did Abigail. She knew the story he was telling. It was about her original hesitance over admitting, experiencing love. Followed by her near death, Ichiro’s guilt over a supposed abandonment, and the short horrible day in Deseret when she had to face her secret and painful past. And all through it, Ichiro’s undying love prevailed. He stayed, a rock of stability in her world, infused with love.
Ichiro’s Song, soon to be known as Abigail’s Song when recordings of this effort were remastered, began to wind down. With extreme gentleness, Ichiro seemed to play the tinkling of wedding bells, the final reprise. Then, he stopped with a final chord. Ichiro slid off the stool, went to one knee, bowing to Abigail. “This, is for you. I will love you forever.”
Abigail walked out, tears streaming, knelt next to him, took his face in her hands and kissed him. “Let no man, or monster, tear us asunder,” she whispered.
There were few dry eyes in the house as the message and emotions sank in. Applause came but no shouting. Tough Russian Spetsnaz were seen to hug each other and wipe their eyes. Ichiro had the heart of a Russian poet, many would say. Aleks came forward with Abigail’s bridal bouquet as the bride and groom began to walk off the dance floor.
“Need to complete the traditional throwing of the bouquet, little sister. Ichiro, Torbin will help you with the garter toss.”
In a few minutes, once the word got around about the impending action, there was a substantial group of women formed on the edge of the dance floor. One woman who did not participate was tall Brynhildr.
“I know I am going to be married soon, to Rolf,” she told Abigail. “And my size would be an unfair advantage.”
So Abigail gave it a world class over the shoulder toss, with Pamela Bell, Lt. Shannon Bell’s sister catching it after a quick scramble by some dozen young ladies. Abigail clapped her hands with joy as she saw it happen.
“Now we will have to look for some eligible bachelors,” she said.
“I see one already who has been watching her.” Torbin interjected.
“Really? Who?”
“Sergeant Benjamin Black. The sniper who went with me to Key West. He has been recognized as one of the heroes of Bloody Kansas.” Torbin replied. “Since he already has a Medal of Honor from Key West, they’re trying to figure out what type of award to give him. He was a major reason the Krakens were held up near Salina.”
Abigail paused for a moment. “So, you’ll vouch for him.”
“Whoa. The decision of whether he will make a good husband or not is up to Miss Bell. Hell. A lot of people thought I would have made a lousy husband. Look at me now.”
“Who said they were wrong?” Aleks cut in.
“Once again, my loving wife attacks me. Why do I put up with it?”
“Because we love each other. And who said I was a good wife? Now, do your best man duties and insure the garter is tossed.” Aleks kissed Torbin. “We may be substandard as individuals. As a team, we can’t be beat.”
A couple of minutes later, Abigail and Ichiro watched as young Lieutenant Baker from Wyoming Ass Drag Days caught the garter. Which was fortuitous as he had a pregnant fiancée. He had not pined for Abigail long. As Abigail and Ichiro prepared to leave, Lt. Sumie Sato in a traditional formal kimono approached with a couple of other young Japanese service women. She came up to Abigail, bowed, and presented her a book tied with and intricate bow. She blushed a bit as she handed the book to Abigail.
“Abby-san, it was Japanese tradition that members of the families would provide a Japanese pillow book to the newly married couple. It contains…pictures, artwork, and drawings depicting how the new couple can…enjoy themselves on the wedding night.”
Sumie looked down a bit, still embarrassed. “Since we consider Colonel Yamamoto and you as family, we took it upon ourselves to supply this…essential. There are no other family members, so…”
Abigail took the intricately bound book and then hugged Sumie. Aleks had already told her about such Japanese traditions as she had heard of them while working in the far east.
“Hell, little sister,” Aleks had said. “I think most Russian women wished that tradition had caught on with us. It would have helped prevent a lot of useless fumbling on many a wedding night during the long winters in Russia.”
“Thank you, my sister,” Abigail said in Japanese. “You will always be welcome in our home, will always be in our thoughts and prayers.” Sumie had teared up a bit at that, bowed deeply.
“My friends and I are honored. Now, we will leave you to your honeymoon.” With that, the three Japanese young women bowed and left.
“One more farewell to the newlyweds,” Thor Heyerdahl’s loud voice cut through the noise. He stood, beckoned Abigail and Ichiro to stand before him. He had them face each other as he wrapped an intricate silver chain around their right arms, binding them together.
“By Odin, Far Wanderer, Grant thee wisdom, courage, and victory.
Friend Thor, grant thee your strength,
Lady Freya, grant thee your love, life and beauty,
And may all be with thee in the coming days.”
“Now. My young warriors, you are bound under a blessing that should protect you from harm. At least for the next day or so.”
Ichiro bowed to Thor. “You do us honor.”
Thor clapped his shoulder. “Son, you are honor. Rolf and Johann have told me what you two have done in helping others. You are both welcome in my family hall anytime you need a place to stay. You are both Norsemen from this moment on. Now, I must get back and have some more mead. My throat is dry from all this talking.” He kissed Abigail, turned and strode off, towering over the other wedding attendees.
“We are so blessed, Ichiro, to have so many friends and family.”
“Yes, Abby. We will always be there for them. It will be our turn someday to bless someone at a wedding. And so the wheel of life turns.”
She beamed at him. “Always the philosopher warrior. I am so lucky to have your love.” She hugged and kissed him. “Now, let us get moving. I want to spend my honeymoon night with my husband before I turn old and gray.”
“Abigail, you? Old and gray? Never in my eyes.”
A few minutes later, the wedding presents secured for transport to Abigail’s base housing residence, now the temporary married couple’s quarters, the happy couple made th
eir way to the entrance way that would now be there exit. As they approached it, Abigail saw her Uncle Buck, Dogman, standing off to the side with Stalin. She squeezed Ichiro’s hand, and led him to the two figures. She threw her arms around her uncle and kissed him.
“Thank you for coming. Thank you for all your love and support. I love you, Uncle. I wish you could stay nearby so that we may see you more often.’
“I don’t do well in crowds, around lots of people. Especially Non-Romanians.”
“I was just trying to convince your uncle of the very same thing,” Stalin interjected. “Maybe if we both keep working on him…”
Dogman looked at him. “I don’t think you realize what you ask.”
“I think I do, my new friend. I was not always the social animal I am know. And I still greatly irritate people. Just ask your niece.”
“My wife would greatly miss you if you leave again, Uncle,” Ichiro added, “And her happiness is my primary concern now.”
Dogman examined Ichiro’s expression closely. “You mean that, don’t you.”
“Yes, sir, I do. On the honor of my family, as a samurai, I swear.”
Dogman keep looking at Ichiro. Then he stuck his hand out. “Shake.”
Ichiro took his hand.
“I hold people to their promises. Ask Torbin Bender. You will keep her happy.”
“Uncle, he will try…” Abigail broke in.
“No, he will. He swore. Your happiness is what matters. Not me.”
Dogman turned toward Stalin. “You can help me find a place far out of town. With space for some dogs? I have some I need to pick up in in Oregon. Also, I may have some people staying with me for a while,”
Stalin’s face broke into the large grin that always looked like a grimace. “Of course, my new friend. Anything to keep My Lady of Steel happy.”
“Good, it is settled. Abigail, for you I will stay near. No one else.”
Abigail clapped her hands and hugged him again. Then she grabbed Stalin in a bear hug, kissed him.
“Thank you,” she said in Russian. “You are like an old gruff uncle who spoils his niece and nephews, comes through in a pinch.”
“I will take that as a compliment, My Lady of Steel. Now, although I have never been married, I think it’s time for the bride and groom to leave and begin their honeymoon.”
“I believe you’re right.” Abigail looked at Ichiro. “Ichi, shall we?”
“Your wish is my command, Abby.”
The word quickly spread that they were leaving and a crowd of well-wishers formed as the happy couple made their way to the steps at the main entrance. Someone had positioned their SUV in front with the obligatory shoes and cans attached to the rear bumper. Of course someone had written “Just Married” on the back window in shaving cream and soap.
As members of the band stood by and played the Wedding March one more time as Abigail and Ichiro made their way to and entered their vehicle, pelted with rice from the mass of well-wishers. Abigail drove as usual, being the more skilled driver of the two. As they waved out their SUV windows, Abigail slowly accelerated onto the main street, then turned in the direction of their hotel.
Madam President stood on the edge of the stairway, wiping her eyes with one of her signature handkerchiefs. George Williams stood next to her as they watched the happy couple drive away.
“George, this is the happiest wedding I have been to since I and my late husband were married. Damn, they make such a lovely couple.” She grabbed and squeezed her friend’s arm.
“Yes, Sal, they do. And I know they will take care of each other like no one else could. They’ll be safe.”
The President leaned in and whispered to her friend and assistant. “Commissioner Miller is supplying a little secret coverage tonight at the hotel. We don’t want them to feel crowded, so it will be on the sly.”
George smiled. “Ever the mother hen over her brood. Now, let’s go back inside, drink one last toast with our families and friends. Then we can let the Russians finish off the leftovers.”
Two of the most powerful humans in the Free States walked back into the quieting festivities, for one last drink to the happy couple and a peaceful night.
The hotel was the Great Falls Crown Hotel, the nicest rebuilt inn in the entire surrounding area. Ichiro and Abigail pulled their SUV up to the front and two valets ran out to meet them. The young men were stumbling all over themselves as they tried to open their doors, welcome the happy couple, and grab their luggage. Abigail and Ichiro hung onto their ever present tactical gear and weapons. They may be newlyweds, but they were warriors first in a war that had no real borders, truth be told. Not when there was an ever present eye looking down from outer space.
They went to the front desk and were met by a young hispanic couple. “Welcome to the Crown Hotel, Mr. and Mrs. Yamamoto. Your suite is ready and waiting.” The young man greeted them with a large smile.
At the sound of her new married name, Abigail giggled a bit. It still seemed like a nice dream that she was married to her one true love.
The young man continued. “I’m Rudy Ramirez and this is my wife Elena. We own this hotel, taking it over from the deceased owners. As they say in Texas, where we came from, ‘mi casa es su casa’. So, please, ask for anything. If it is legal, we will get it. And your room is gratis, on the house.”
Ichiro stepped in. “Please, Sir. We can pay. I cannot allow you to…”
Rudy Ramirez interrupted. “Yes, you can. You have protected us. You, Colonel, attacked Key West. How can I not try to pay you back?”
“But sir…” Ichiro tried to argue, then Abigail gently squeezed his arm. He looked at her and she smiled at him, then nodded her head yes. Ichiro smiled.
“My wife has told me that I should accept your offer with honor. This I will do.”
Ichiro stepped back, bowed low to the young couple. “You do us honor, Mr. Ramirez. I am forever in your debt. Call for help, I will be there.”
Elena Ramirez stepped up and hugged him, leading to a deep blush. “You two are treasures,” she said, as she moved her hug to Abigail. “We will always have a place for you. We know after fleeing El Paso what it is like to have no home, little hope, and few friends.” Elena looked at Abigail with tears in her eyes. “You give us hope.”
Abigail kissed her cheek. “Thank you. I think I can count you two as our first new friends as a married couple.”
Rudy led them up to their honeymoon suite on the top fifth floor. In line behind him were the two valets, a third one parking the couple’s SUV as they went to their room. As they reached it, Rudy unlocked the large double doors with the key card, and stepped back with a grin on his face. Ichiro stood for a moment, then realized he had a duty to perform. He easily swept Abigail into his arms, her tactical gear in her arms, and carried her over the threshold.
Abigail liked the feel of the strength of her husband’s arms. For once she felt complete, safe and protected. Ichiro carried her into the large suite, lightly set her down in the center of the front room, the back room containing the king-sized bed. Abigail had never been in such a spacious and elegant room. The valets were in and out in a flash, making sure the huge bed was turned down, the suitcases opened, their regular clothes were hung up. A large magnum of chilled champagne was wheeled in a placed in the corner of the front room.
As Rudy turned to leave, Abigail tried to give him a large tip for the valets, but Rudy refused.
“When I said gratis, I meant it.”
“But there must be something you will allow us to give,” Abigail said.
One of the young men spoke up. “A photo with you both…please?”
A cell phone was produced, and a photo of Ichiro, Abigail with the two valets was taken by Rudy.
“All right. Vamanos. We now leave you two newlyweds. Please call the desk if you need anything. But rest assured, your privacy is secure.” With that, Rudy bowed and with the valets, was gone.
Abigail looked at Ichiro a
s it sank in for the first time. She was alone, on her wedding night, with the man she loved. She blushed a bit as she once again realized she was a virgin, felt a bit insecure. Then Ichiro was gently hugging her, holding her.
“I love you, Abigail. I know you are nervous. Please don’t be.”
Abigail smiled, her head on his shoulder. “Read my mind again. This is just… so new.”
She raised her head, looked into his eyes. “I…just do not want to mess anything up. I do not want to be a…disappointment.” Abigail felt the proverbial stirring in her loins, but was still scared of the feelings.
“Abigail, you will never disappoint me. I love you. You are my angel.” Ichiro kissed her, slowly and languorously.
On the floor below, Brynhildr and David Jackson were setting up in a room near the fire escape. Commissioner Miller had told them to follow the wedding couple to their hotel and keep a loose watch on them. They would soon sneak up stairs and set a couple of small surveillance camera at either end of the hallway that ran in front of the honeymoon suite, to be monitored in their hotel room.
Brynhildr watched as David removed their equipment from two large duffle bags and a large hard case. The Commissioner had assigned David Jackson to work with her. He had told her that she needed to help “break him in” to the job of Federal Law Enforcement Agent.
Formal training was still in short supply, so a lot of it was by the seat of the pants type.
“So, Commissioner, you think I have enough experience to train someone else?”
The somewhat beefy man had laughed. “You studied being an agent well before I ever met you, using your uncles’ reference books and files. That and your in born hunter’s proclivity have made you a natural. Or at least a very quick study.”
After David Jackson had accepted the job, he had been with Brynhildr ninety percent of the time. He turned toward her as he removed items from a duffle bag.
“Two 3D printer submachine guns, a 12 gauge pump, and our 10mm pistols. Think that’s enough firepower?”
Typhoon of Steel Page 30