Bruce smiled. “Now what made you think that?”
“You know how I love caves. You first?”
“I’d hate to rob you of the honor.”
Wolf got down on his belly and slid into the cave. “Spiders. Wonderful.”
Bruce nudged Wolf’s foot and the man slid the rest of the way in. “It’s big and it does open up.”
Bruce followed his friend into the cave. There was a breeze through the entrance of the cave, which suggested a much larger cavern ahead where the temperature difference of air underground and that outside was creating a natural eddy.
Bruce squeezed through an area barely large enough for his body. “I like caves.”
“You would.”
“Something has been pulled through here; the rocks are scraped.”
“Ouch.”
“What?” Bruce asked.
“Nothing.”
Bruce bit back a laugh and kept crawling, following Wolf’s boots.
“Finally. Watch the drop.” Wolf disappeared from view. Bruce followed him and nearly tumbled when the floor disappeared.
“I’d say that was an effective trapdoor,” Wolf commented, sliding over to prevent Bruce from landing in his lap. They had abruptly entered a long, hollow cavern.
It was dry, cool, and what looked liked leaves had blown in from what had to be the solitary bush at the cave entrance. “Smell anything off?”
“No. And the spiders are still alive,” Wolf pointed out.
“We’re in, Cougar. How’s reception?”
“You’re clear, power levels are good.”
“Roger.”
Wolf shown his light around. “Would you like door one or door two?” Two passageways disappeared.
“Two. Those rocks look scraped.”
“Two it is.” Wolf, half crouched, led the way.
“I’m getting a whiff of rotten eggs.”
“Stay low.”
Wolf slowed his walk forward. “It’s opening up again.” Metal rapped against stone. “Watch your head.”
Another smaller passageway opened up.
“Pay dirt. Hand grenades, a couple mines, ammo, sidearms, rifles, even some M-16s.” It was a neat inventory, resting upright along the wall with boxes at either end. Wolf started exploring boxes. “Here’s a tally sheet in a language I can’t read.” He handed it back.
“Stingers?” Bruce asked.
“There they are. Still in their Made in the USA cases. The Army investigators will appreciate getting those shipping manifest labels back.”
“We can’t carry all this out of here and we can’t leave it.”
“We take the stingers, destroy the rest,” Wolf suggested.
“Let’s think about that a bit more. Jim didn’t come out and say it, but I bet Jamael was hurt somewhere around here. And we were smelling sulfur outside the cave.”
“Meaning if we toss one of those hand grenades, no telling what we might accidentally set off.”
Bruce nodded. “Exactly. Let’s see if we can find where the boy was hurt. Five minutes, and if we have to, we destroy the rifles, take the stingers, and leave the rest behind.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Wolf looked around. “Back to door number one or do we take one of these three options?”
“How about number four? That rockslide looks new.”
“And that opening looks too small for a man of my size,” Wolf noted.
“Suck in your gut.”
“Thanks for the suggestion,” Wolf replied ruefully. He slipped through by turning sidewise. “Instant thin machine.” His light cast shadows through the opening. “This cavern is about the size of the one on that side, and it is open above. I’m standing at the base of a huge rockslide, like one of those sinkholes you sometimes see appear at ground level. Watch those first few steps.”
Bruce followed him.
“Does that look like a boy-sized hat?” Wolf shone his torch on the rocks.
Bruce retrieved it. “Jamael was here.”
“Yes. And I’m faintly smelling rotten eggs.” Wolf knelt and looked into the one opening present. It curved down and to the right.
“What’s that noise?” Bruce asked.
“It sounds like water.”
Bruce nodded. “I was going to suggest that, but I figured it would sound crazy.”
“Let’s check it out.”
“You just have to be curious.”
Wolf laughed. “I was born that way.”
“It could be the fissure that got Jamael in trouble.”
“We’ll never know unless we go see.”
“The way he was burned, he slipped and found himself touching something he didn’t realize was so close. Go easy, Wolf.”
“Slow and easy,” Wolf promised and led the way. “This is the place,” he muttered a few moments later. “I can reach out and touch rocks that still feel warm. I don’t know what magma looks liked hardened, but the sulfur smell lingers.”
“Air okay?”
“Breathable, and, Bruce, it’s damp and humid.”
“Be careful where you touch. There could be an acid pocket.”
“I remember. There are still spiders and what looks like fungus growing. There’s an opening ahead.” He disappeared. “Oh my.”
Bruce had rarely heard Wolf at a loss for words. He pushed through the opening to join his friend.
“They are never going to believe us,” Wolf said, shining his light across the discovery.
It was an underground river, fast running water that sparkled so clear their lights could peer through it to the rock bottom.
They could literally lay pipe right into the spring and have fresh water running for probably years to come, pumped by the earth itself. “We’ve been praying for water, and it’s been sitting here open and reasonably accessible, just waiting to be found.”
“Let’s see where it’s going,” Wolf said, following the water. Bruce followed him, wondering the same thing. Did it disappear back into the ground? “Here’s part of the fault line where the rock slab cracked.” The water was shooting out like a geyser and striking the ceiling a few feet above. The sound of rushing water increased.
“Wow.” There was a waterfall flowing down into a deep fissure, so deep their lights could not probe to the bottom. The walls were wet, the roof, water dripping on them. “It’s enclosed, so it can’t evaporate.”
Bruce reached out to touch the rock wall. “This rock face hasn’t pitted yet. I bet the earthquake just opened up this passage. The water has been here for a long time, but I doubt anyone has ever known about it. The boy and his grandfather were probably the first.”
“And Jim knew what he was really giving away when he revealed the location of this cave.”
Bruce nodded. “The man wants peace for his people. Offering water accessible to both Turkey and Syria is a pretty good card to lay down if you want to foster goodwill. No wonder he insisted on the embassy personnel coming along. Water rights in this part of the world become part of every formal peace treaty.” Bruce shone his light around one more time. “Let’s get them using that communication equipment they lugged in to do some good.”
“We still need rain.”
“It will come,” Bruce replied, confident that it eventually would. “The embassy guys need something fun to do for a change. We lug the stingers out, and we don’t talk about this with anyone but the embassy guys. Let’s give them time to get their ducks in a row before the Turkish government hears there’s another freshwater supply available that dwarfs what anyone thought was in the area.”
“Water. It’s almost better than finding gold.”
Bruce laughed. “Tonight, I agree.”
Grace ~
I had an incredible night. I’ll be able to tell you about it one of these days. I met a brave young man who loves baseball cards. It feels so wonderful to be able to help someone. It sure makes up for all those hours of medical training and missions where I came back having to shake my hea
d and say I wasn’t in time or in the right place.
Did you ever save anyone’s life? I know you’ve had a couple close calls as LSO where your quick action averted disaster. I was thinking about you in the moments while I was walking with Wolf. Rich should have been along, but he was delayed coming back from Incirlik when the call came in. It was one of those call-and-go type missions. I’m wound up. Sorry for the wandering letter. Oh, I hope tonight brings a glimmer of peace and not just spirals down into another point of tension.
How’s the arm pain? your mobility? Have you been extra careful? What about the flying? Still loving it? Your last letter was wonderful to receive.
Grace, I miss you. I would love to be sitting with you tonight rather than sitting on a packing box writing this by the faint light of the coming dawn. Sometimes the emotion overwhelms. I so look forward to the day I see you next and just have the freedom to sit and talk.
Much love, Bruce
JUNE 28
Bruce ~
I’m at Nellis at the moment, curled up on my bunk enjoying a few quiet moments before I turn in, catching up on the tail end of the national news. I’ll be watching the news this week with you in mind. I’ve never been able to save a life, unless you count fifth grade as a crossing guard when I managed to stop Charlene from meeting a car face-first. It was the most exciting moment in my entire year because I came close to flunking chemistry. Fifth grade was awful otherwise.
I think you were created by God to be exactly what you are, a medic who goes wherever you are most needed. Even your letters come alive when you talk about getting to help someone. Hopefully no one was shooting at you this time. I have a vague memory from the crash of gunshots while you were pulling me out. (You still owe me the details of what really happened.) I hope the boy is in good shape. Baseball cards should be standard issue military equipment; they prove helpful in so many situations.
I’m looking forward to walking the beach with you, (we can pretend to follow Emily, which will make it a slow ambling walk), holding hands, and just enjoying listening about your deployment. Save up lots of stories to tell about Wolf and Rich.
I’ll be going home tomorrow night, and planning to have a wonderful cross-country flight.
Commercial break—there’s this tiny mutt of a dog in a pet food commercial, white and fuzzy with a high bark. I like Emily better, but this one is cute. Anyway, sorry, I’ve got pets on my mind because Emily started to bring home dogs she thinks are strays. We went walking in the park, I took a seat on the bench with a book, and I thought Emily was asleep. Next thing I know here she comes with this small dog that can literally walk under her, leading her over like she’s a sheepdog or something. While I tried to find tags to figure out who the owner was, Emily tipped over my lunch sack and offered her new friend half my lunch. It was so hard not to laugh. I didn’t have the heart to scold her.
Life is good, Bruce. The distance between us is a pain, but I’ve grown to shape my life around letters. And I’ve gotten in the habit of noting things in my day that I want to make a point of telling you. I enjoy having my life revolve around yours. That’s the most profound point I wanted to share tonight. You’re part of my life, a comfortable part. It’s late; I’ve got to turn in.
All my love, Grace
JULY 9
Grace ~
I am determined to bring Wolf home safe and sound, but just to give you a heads-up, the man’s sense of humor is killing me. I found a lizard in my bunk last night. A real one. And Rich is all prepared with a camera to capture the moment for the PJ memorial wall of practical jokes. When Wolf is talking my partner into this foolishness, we are all reaching our limits.
We had a party tonight to celebrate the water rights “memorandum of understanding” that Turkey and Syria just signed. A fancy name for a piece of paper that means we probably won’t have someone shooting at us anytime soon. Being in-country is the absolute pits when there are men with guns on either side of you just looking for a reason to get justifiably mad at the other guy. So for tonight at least, peace reigns, until the next problem shows up.
The earthquake recovery continues at a slower pace now that rubble has been cleared off roads, bridges have been jerry-rigged, and large massive tent cities have been created for those displaced from their homes.
The logistics of getting aid where it needs to go is incredible. We’ve been helping out whenever we can, combining relief convoys with military convoys to help expedite getting shipments around. So I’m keeping myself busy while I watch the planes overhead and wait for word I can come home.
You mentioned the rescue. Grace, I died a little that day when I saw you. Your plane was in pieces, your flight suit was covered in blood, and your eyes were glassy. I thought you were dead, honey. I really thought you were dead. And it haunted me that I’d been late in telling you so many important things.
Like how much the fact you love to sing even though you’re not very good makes me smile and think, that’s my Grace standing out in the choir. And how much I love you for making Wolf feel special. Instead of getting on him for the trouble he gets himself into, you love him for who he is. And when I talk to Jill, she always has a new piece of news to share about something the two of you did together. You make time for Jill, you make time to be a best friend, and I love you for it.
And most of all I wanted to tell you what it means to me that you let me be part of your life. You didn’t have to. You could have played it safe and said, “I already lost somebody I loved with Ben and I don’t want to risk loving someone else.” Instead, you let me have a huge part of your heart and your affections. There aren’t enough words or years to show you how much I love you—but I look forward to trying.
I was afraid after the accident that you would not recover to the point you could fly, and I admit I was racking my brains for ideas of what you might like to do as a civilian. Just to let you know, the option at the top of my list was that I’d retire too and we’d take up giving scuba diving lessons, exploring old wrecks off the Florida coast, and become treasure hunters in our spare time. (Not sure where that idea came from, but it sounds a lot like a Wolf-originated suggestion to me.) When it’s time to retire, I’m sure both of us will figure out how to do it with grace, but that hopefully is a long time away.
Mail me a book next time you think about it. Rich just got this series of X-Files tapes he ordered some four months ago, and the videos are all the scary kind. I could use something along the nature of a cartoon about now.
With all my love, Bruce
Bruce ~
Sunday comics, a month’s worth, coming in this rather interesting care package (Jill helped me, you can tell) and just the thing to bring some laughs. I thought Snoopy and the Red Baron were priceless.
Love, Grace
Forty-Two
* * *
JULY 9
ANTAKYA, TURKEY
“What happened?” Bruce shouted to Rich to be heard over the noise. He’d been asleep and suddenly the air was filled with helicopters landing practically outside the tent door. The tent swayed against the changing air pressure.
“A tanker exploded while planes were refueling.”
Bruce grabbed his gear. “Where?”
“Just off the coast; early word is survivors have been spotted in the water. GW is launching everything they have.”
Bruce pushed open the tent flap and understood why he felt like he had been jerked awake when he saw the sky and realized it was still the middle of the night. The emergency gear was already prepared to grab and go. It was a swift change to water gear, grabbing extra scuba equipment. Bruce sprinted to the waiting helicopter with Rich. Vincent and Frank were already buckling in. Search-and-rescue flights were about speed, and unfortunately they had practiced for this kind of accident many times in the past. Dasher headed out to sea. Bruce plugged into the comm to listen in.
The message traffic was terse, directing search-and-rescue assets to cover the territory.
&
nbsp; “Who’s got the water?”
“The battle group has dispatched four ships to corner the debris field with lights; small craft are launching into the grids. There were some surface assets in port also heading out. There’s a Victor class sub out there too.”
It was dark. Bruce was expecting the sight of burning fuel on the water but it was still horrifying to see. It was an enormous patch of water already over two miles long with different crash and burn points apparent from more than one aircraft going down. The sky was crowded with search helicopters and spotlights sweeping the surface looking for survivors.
“Eagle 01, Birddog, contact Thunder 01, 127.4.”
“Eagle 01. Roger,” Dasher replied. “Thunder 01, Eagle 01. Where do you need us?”
“We just dropped smoke and a flare on what looks like two souls in the water just south of grid four. We’re bingo fuel.”
“Copy red smoke and flare. We’re inbound from the east.”
“Texaco flight had emergency frequency china two.”
“Eagle 01. Roger.” The emergency frequency for the tanker crew was about the only frequency silent at the moment.
“How many jets involved?” Bruce asked Dasher.
“I’m hearing it was a full stack. Coming up on the smoke.”
Dasher dropped to a hover. They could see the smoke canister bobbing on the water shooting off a continuing stream of red smoke to mark position. The flare was still burning. “Ten o’clock, Dasher! Soul in the water,” Bruce hollered, picking out the bobbing yellow stripe of a life vest. The man was drifting close to a slick of burning fuel.
True Valor Page 27