by Ricky Sides
Lieutenant Jeff Brown, with his wounded arm in a sling, was a sad figure as he stood apart from the other mourners in the misty rain. He blamed himself for Pete’s death. After the funeral, Maggie and Lisa approached him. His grief-filled eyes met theirs in shame. “I’m so sorry, Maggie. Lisa, if I could take his place, I’d do it. I swear I would.”
“My husband wouldn’t want that, Jeff. He wasn’t that sort of man. You have nothing to be sorry for, pilot. It was a war, and as my husband so often said, ‘Sometimes bad things happen to good people.’”
“Then you forgive me?” asked Jeff incredulously.
“As mom said, there is nothing to forgive. My dad wouldn’t want you to torment yourself. He’d want you whole again, so that you could do what you do best. Some say that is flying a fighter,” Lisa stated calmly.
“We heard you’d walked away from your fighter over this, Jeff. We talked about it, and we’ve asked the council to reinstate you, though you are welcome to some time off, if you need it,” Maggie stated.
“Thank you. Thank you both,” Jeff said. “You really think Pete would want me to stick with flying?”
“I know he would,” Lisa stated.
Maggie smiled weakly and nodded her agreement.
“What about the two of you? I mean, are you going to remain in the citadel?” asked Jeff.
“For now, but when the battle fortress is completed, I intend to seek a transfer. I hear they’ll have a large medical facility, and I’d like to work out the kinks in that facility,” Maggie stated.
***
Tim stared sadly at the graves of the forty men and six women who had answered his call for volunteers to go to Washington to defend the capital. One of the men who had died had been a drill instructor. As he thought of that man, he realized that he’d never get to kiss his wife again as he had the day he’d opted to go with his recruits. The man had been posthumously awarded the Peacekeeper Medal of Valor for his bravery above and beyond the call of duty. He had fought with the western flank recruits who had stopped the enemy infiltrators. Later, he had fought with them at the wall when they had been desperately needed, despite their lack of full training. The man had dived on top of a grenade that the enemy had thrown over the wall, which had landed near a group of his recruits. Tim had given the man’s widow his medal. The memory of what she had said caused a lump to form in his throat. She had thanked him and then gestured to her six-year-old son standing beside her. “It’ll be his one day. He wants to be a peacekeeper, like his father.”
Looking to the left of the graves of the recruits, Tim saw another sixty-three fresh graves. These were the graves of the other peacekeepers who had died during the battle. He knew there were another fifteen who had been buried at other bases. The bodies of the pilots who had been lost during the battle on the Potomac had not been found. In all likelihood, they had floated down the river into the Chesapeake Bay. In all, a hundred and sixty-seven men and women had given their lives to defend the nation. They had fought vastly superior numbers and won.
As Tim stood there staring at the graves, he thought of a quote attributed to Winston Churchill. Standing there, Tim removed his hat and said, “There’s a quote I’d like to share with you. I can’t remember the exact quote. They say Winston Churchill said it regarding the British airmen who defended their nation during World War II. I’ll probably get the quote wrong, but I think you’ll understand me. Never have so many owed so much to so few. No, that’s not right,” said Tim in frustration. Wiping tears from his eyes, he said, “I’m so sorry. I can’t remember the real quote, but I hope you understand.”
Moving on, he stood by Pete’s grave. “I’m going to miss you, Pete. Like Lacey, you accepted me as I was and you were a damned good friend. Don’t worry about Maggie and Lisa. Jim and I will look after them. So will Evan. I wish we’d gotten there sooner. Maybe we could have saved you, but then again, if we hadn’t arrived when we did, you might still be alive, because Jeff’s fighter wouldn’t have gone down when it did.”
Kneeling beside the grave, Tim wept in misery for it had been his decisions that had placed Jeff above the enemy at that precise moment. He felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw his brother, Jim, whose own cheeks were wet. “Don’t do this to yourself, Tim. Pete wouldn’t have it. It was a war. Hell, you can’t second-guess every damned move you make in war. If you did that, nothing would be accomplished. Pete’s philosophy on such matters was to ‘do the best you could and hope for the best. Never regret action you take to save those you love. Only regret inaction.’”
“Pete said that?” Tim asked.
Smiling despite his tears, Jim said, “You’re damned right he did. And if he were here now, he’d tell you to get off his grave, you’re crushing the dirt.”
“Tim moved his knee off the corner of Pete’s grave, but then he laughed. Sniffling, he said, “That sounds just like something he’d say.”
Jim pulled his brother to his feet. “You do know that Pete really liked you, don’t you?” Jim asked. “I mean, he needled you a lot, but that was because he liked you so much.”
Tim nodded his head in answer.
***
Inside the Peacekeeper, Jim and Tim met with Pol and Patricia in the original mess hall. Jim sat at the head of the table as he had in the past during meetings. They all acutely felt the absence of Pete.
Pol’s eyes were still red from mourning the passing of his friend when they sat down for the meeting. Jim opened the proceedings by saying, “Pol, we asked you to come to this meeting because we are faced with a unique problem. We’ve never before had to replace a council member, but now we have to do so.”
“I’ll help any way that I can, Admiral, but I’m not certain my opinion will be of great value to you during the selection process,” Pol stated hesitantly.
“Pete selected his own replacement, Pol,” Tim stated, adding, “We all did that before the start of the war as a precaution.”
“Then, how may I be of assistance?” Pol asked in confusion.
“You can accept the post, so that we can move on to other council business,” Jim said.
Pol’s eyes widened in surprise, and he asked, “Are you saying Pete selected me as his replacement?”
“Yes,” Jim said succinctly.
“In God’s name, why?!” Pol exclaimed.
“Because you’re the right man for the job, Pol,” Patricia stated.
“Pol, you have all of the right traits for the job. Hell, you were at the top of my list,” Jim stated.
“Mine as well,” Tim said with a smile.
“If all three reigning council members had you at the top of their list, you must be the right choice,” Patricia stated. “Congratulations, my friend,” she said and hugged Pol.
“Thank you, my dear,” he said.
Both Tim and Jim shook his hand and welcomed Pol to the council. Then Jim said, “We have pressing business, Pol. I hope you don’t mind beginning immediately.”
“I’m ready when you are,” Pol replied.
“Patricia, please send in Private Ann Bean, but give us ten minutes to brief Pol before you send her,” Tim requested.
Jim and Tim quickly explained the secret Women’s Elite Corp program to Pol and the need for its existence. One of the three recent cases they cited was the same one Pete had referenced in his conversation with Maggie in Washington.
A short time later, Patricia returned with Private Bean in tow.
“Private, please state the reason that you requested a meeting with the council,” Jim instructed without preamble.
“Sir, Pete told me that this information was classified as secret, and that I was to make mention of it only to council members,” the private stated.
“Private, Pol was just named Pete’s successor on the council, and the council has no secrets from our spouses. Patricia is Tim’s wife, so you are at liberty to discuss anything you need to with us,” Jim stated.
“Sirs, the night of the battle
for Washington, Pete told me that he thought I should consider joining the Women’s Elite Corp. At the time, I declined, but have since reconsidered. Pete told me that if I changed my mind, then I should seek out any council member, so here I am,” she explained.
“You are aware that joining them means you’re breaking contact with the peacekeepers? You won’t be going home on weekend passes. In fact, when you get to go home at all, it will be rarely and for a brief period of time. The work you’ll be doing will be largely secretive and unknown to the general public. You won’t be able to tell your family what you are doing,” Jim stated.
“I understand the nature of the assignment, yes, and I am prepared for those eventualities,” she stated.
“Then upon Pete’s recommendation, you’ll get the job. Whether or not you get to keep it will be up to the unit commander,” Jim stated.
“That’s fair enough,” Ann responded. “And thank you, sir,” she added as an afterthought.
“Don’t thank me, Private. Before your training is over, you’ll likely curse the day you met me,” Jim said soberly.
Ann blinked in surprise when she noted that the Admiral was entirely serious.
“One last thing, Ann,” Tim said. “If you’re ever captured, you are on your own. The peacekeepers will disavow any knowledge of your unit’s existence. Do you still want the job,” he asked.
“Are you men trying to talk me out of it or something? You sure don’t make the job sound enticing,” Ann stated.
Jim’s right hand slammed down on the tabletop, startling the others. “Enticing? Private Bean, this will be the most thankless job you’ve ever taken on in your life, but you’ll make a difference in people’s lives. Right now, there are three hundred seventy-three females enjoying freedom who were liberated from captivity by the unit. The Corp has terminated eight hundred ninety-seven rapists. Four hundred fifty-six wife beaters have stopped abusing their women, thanks to their work. Twenty-three women, who were sold into slavery in Mexico were located and rescued. They were not part of the captives I just mentioned. They are categorized differently because they were sold into slavery in a foreign country. On top of all that, the unit has successfully defended numerous villages and small towns that were under attack by vicious marauders. In the cemetery, we just left are the graves of the peacekeepers who’ve died in service, but when one of their numbers dies, the unit buries them alone, without much in the way of a ceremony. They are buried in the place of their choice, but never here. One of the first questions you’ll be asked by your unit is where you want to be buried, and they are serious when they ask that question. They want to know your true wishes,” Jim stated somberly.
“Now do you still want this job, Private?” he asked.
“Yes, Admiral. I do want the job,” Ann said without hesitation.
“Pol, are you all right?” Tim asked.
“Yes, my friend. I will be fine. I am just surprised to learn that such a secret organization is out there working alone. I have no objections to it. To the contrary, I’ve seen more than enough to know there is a need for such a team. I am merely stunned that it exists. I am fine with the Private’s application for membership. I heard reports of her brave defense of the wounded in the capital,” Pol stated, causing Ann to blush slightly.
“Then we need to get to the main mess hall for the next meeting. The team will be getting restless,” Jim stated. Standing up, Jim said, “Let’s go.”
Walking through the corridor of the ship, they soon came to a door leading into the mess hall. An armed guard stood on duty there. “We’ll be having a meeting in the mess hall. No one is to enter without our expressed permission,” Tim said.
“Understood, Captain. Another guard is in place at the rear exit with the same orders, sir,” the man stated as he opened the door for the council.
Entering the massive room, Jim said, “Ladies of the Corp, I present your newest recruit. Her bravery is proven.”
A tall woman with an athletic build stood up. She tossed her long blond hair with a flip of her head as she studied Ann appraisingly. “Who recommends this woman?” she asked.
“Pete Damroyal,” Ann said, speaking for herself. She then regarded the leader of the unit with the same appraising gaze that had been directed at her.
“You’re a brave one then. Pete always could pick a recruit when it came to courage and heart,” said the woman. “My name’s Nora West, but you can call me Nora. Welcome to the unit. Now remove that headgear,” Nora ordered.
Ann took off her hat and tossed it on a nearby tabletop. Captain Nora West walked up to her with a black beret in her hand. She placed the beret on the recruit’s head, tilting it to an angle to match the rest of the unit. Next, she removed a sheathed skinning knife from her back pocket. “Thread this through your belt. From now on, that blade becomes a part of you. Our blades are always within reach. In the shower, making love or just lounging around when you have nothing better to do, this blade remains by your side. Do you understand that?” asked Nora.
It hadn’t escaped Ann’s attention that several of the women had laughed when Nora had referenced lounging around. She gathered that there was scant time for that, and that suited her just fine. “I understand, Nora,” she stated.
“Nora, if you have a few minutes, we’d like to meet with your unit while you’re here,” Jim stated.
“We’ve got the time for a meeting with the council,” Nora said.
“Good, you see, I think it’s high time that your unit had more support from us. We’d still have to disavow your existence, but it’s time you had access to more technology,” Jim stated and Tim nodded his head in agreement.
The End
About the author.
Ricky Sides was born in Florence, Alabama in May of 1958. He has a wife named Sue that he married at age 18. He has one adult son named Larry Dale.
The author studied martial arts from 1981 to the mid 1990s. He has been an avid camper and student of survival. The techniques described in his fight sequences are often from his personal experience and training. He has taught women's rape prevention seminars in the 1980's.
The author's writing experience includes:
The Birth of the Peacekeepers, and the other six books in the Peacekeepers series.
The Brimstone and the Companions of Althea series which is a nine novel set based on the on line game t4c (the fourth coming) and was written by Ricky Sides under the pen name Raistlin and edited and collaborated on by a wonderful lady from Louisiana under the pen name Kittie Justice.
The author also wrote a book on women's self-defense named The Ultimate in Women's Self-Defense.
The author also wrote Adventures in Reading. This book is a collection of short stories and the novella The North Room. It also contains the essay, Coping with Breast Cancer, which details the experiences the author shared with his wife, Sue, as she battled the disease in 1995 -1996.
The Peacekeepers. Book 8. The New Apocalypse.
It started in Mexico when a man found a silver metal briefcase on a beach. Thinking he’d found drugs being smuggled into the country, the man who found the vial of fluid inside the insulated attaché case threw it down and broke it in disgust. He didn’t notice the droplets of fluid that landed on his sandaled feet.
That man carried the cartel’s plague back to his village where the latest strain of the flu was running rampant. The plague mutated, joining with the flu, thus becoming airborne. It had now become the deadliest plague the world had ever faced.
Soon, a flood of refugees headed north to escape the onslaught of the plague. They carried it with them into the Border States of America.
The peacekeepers face their greatest challenge to date as they race to save the human race from what is nothing short of The New Apocalypse.
The Peacekeepers. The Warlord. Book 9.
As the plague ravaged America, the peacekeepers were forced to go into isolation to protect themselves from the dread disease. In the absence of
the peacekeepers, hundreds of outlaws flocked to the standard of a man forming an organization devoted to their annihilation.
To make matters worse, the world now blames the United States for the spread of the disease and rumors suggest an attack may be imminent.
This time the peacekeepers face a foe dedicated to their extermination. Soon the slogan, “Death to all Peacekeepers,” is seen from the west to east coasts. Then it is found on a sign tied to a former peacekeeper at the scene of a massacre.
Excerpt from Adventures in Reading.
In the mid-nineties, my wife was diagnosed with invasive breast cancer, which had metastasized to her lymph nodes. The essay “Coping with Breast Cancer” details what happened in the wake of that diagnosis. We decided to release this essay in the hopes of helping other couples confronted with this terrible disease. Therefore, when I released a short story collection in a book titled Adventures in Reading, the essay was included.
Here is a brief excerpt from Coping with Breast Cancer.
In the fall of 1995 we were living the good life. We’d just bought our dream house and moved in the previous July and were looking forward to our first holiday season in our new home. Only one thing placed a cloud over our lives at that point in time. My wife had a mysterious bloody discharge from one breast. She had also lost a considerable amount of weight and I was beginning to become concerned.
My wife was reluctant to agree to go to a doctor but finally I managed to elicit a promise from her that she would go to see a physician the day after Thanksgiving. That morning we got into our car for the drive to the doctor, never suspecting that our lives were about to be forever changed.