“I am at your service, young lady. And may I emphasize again the lady part.” He patted her hand. Then they began to eat in earnest, everyone at the huge round table soon involved in lively discussion amid smiles, laughter, and good times. A small string quartet provided excellent mood music from the corner of the hall.
Eventually, Prophet Smith leaned over toward Torbin. “I hope this meal is to your satisfaction. We have excellent herds of beef, beefalos, and true American bison.”
“Sir, your stockmen and chefs both deserve large pats on the back. This is some of the tenderest meat I have eaten. The vegetables and baked potato are also excellent.”
“Your cooks and chefs in the Unoccupied States are not as skilled?”
Torbin sighed. “I think we lost a lot of good people during the first year, Mr. President. We just now, this past year, began building up our livestock populations again. Lots of lean venison, bear, wild boar. Commercial beef, not so much.”
President Smith smiled. “Please communicate with your Madam President and the Generals that I would be very happy to provide you with some breeding livestock of whatever type you need. The Lord Our God has been generous with us. We would be remiss in in our Christian duties if we did not try to share our bounty with others.”
“Thank you, Sir. I will.”
The social gathering continued, until the President and Prophet stood up and gently tapped his crystal glass. Conversation ended and all eyes turned toward him.
“Before we allow for a little post dinner dancing, we must, of course, have the pièce de résistance for every birthday party, especially an eighteenth birthday. I speak of course of the cake. Not just any cake, but a cake specifically created for the young lady who we celebrate.” The Prophet clapped his hands three times.
Doc Stubbs came through the double doors in the back of the hall, wheeling a large three layer cake, complete with eighteen large lit candles. In the center was the Marine Corps globe and anchor, with a warrior guardian angel—complete with wings, sword and shield—in the center.
Doc was dressed in slightly worn Marine Corps Enlisted Dress Blues, Gunny stripes and all. Weighing down the left side of his chest was a huge mass of medals and ribbons from the former U.S. of A. Doc was close shaven, his signature stogie absent. He pushed the cake on its gurney all the way to Abigail’s seat. The string quartet started playing “Happy Birthday”, and everyone chimed in, the attending members of The Twenty most enthusiastically.
A shy Abigail rose slowly to cries of “Speech! Speech!” She held her hands up to quiet everyone. Gathering her thoughts, she spoke. “I thank Our Lord God that He has enabled me to be here, to be so very honored by you, and by the Prophet, President Smith.”
Abigail looked first at Torbin. “I thank God and Jesus Christ that Captain Torbin Bender is also here, safe and sound. He was sent by Our Lord God at a time that we all needed help. A person could not ask for a better friend and comrade-in-arms.”
She then faced the others. “Again, I thank you all for you honoring me, a simple Servant of God.” A round of applause erupted. Torbin saw the Prophet’s chest swell with pride, like a doting father.
Finally it died down, and Torbin chimed in, “Good sirs and ladies, when I was growing up, the birthday boy or girl had to make a wish, then blow out the candles. Is that still the drill?”
Surrounded by cries of “Yes!”, “Blow them out!” and “Make a wish!” Abigail approached the cake, deep in thought, with her head down. Then, she leaned forward and blew all eighteen candles out in one blow.
Amid applause, as Doc began to cut the cake with a huge bowie knife, Torbin asked, “What did you wish for, Abigail?”
She smiled at him. “It must remain a secret until it happens, Torbin. Only then will I tell you.”
Torbin chuckled. “Ah, woman, thy name is mystery.” Abigail laughed, then was obliged to take the honorary first piece of cake. Doc Stubbs served up the cake quickly and efficiently. Before they knew it, he began to wheel the cake away.
Torbin jumped up and approached him. “Doc. You didn’t tell me you were a baker too.”
Doc gave his signature chortle. “I am a man of many hidden talents, Skipper. I’ll put some leftover cake in your food bag for the morning. Make sure you and the young Captain get some rest. You have a long drive tomorrow.”
“Yes, Gunny.” Doc gave his half-grimace grin and left the way he came in, wheeling the cake in front of him.
Torbin returned to his seat just in time to meet Mrs. Ester Smith, the Prophet’s wife, as she approached Abigail. The young Captain tried to stand, but Ester placed her hand on her shoulder to lightly restrain her. “No my dear, please stay seated, you are an honored guest.” As Torbin looked on, she handed Abigail a small gift-wrapped box. “Every birthday girl deserves a special gift. Here is yours, Abigail Young.”
Abigail’s eyes widened a bit in surprise, while she received the present. “Thank you, Ma’am. I… don’t know what to say.”
“Say nothing. Just please open the present,” Ester Smith lightly ordered. Abigail carefully unwrapped the box, so as not to damage the wrapping paper. She opened it, and gasped. Mrs. Smith smiled, and addressed Torbin.
“Captain Bender, can I ask for your assistance in helping Abigail with her present?” It was then that Torbin saw a beautiful gold chain with a gold cross attached. A large diamond was set directly at the intersection of the cross and main beams. With practiced ease, Torbin took the necklace and put in around Abigail’s neck, clasping it in back.
“I do not think a Mormon warrior of God, an Avenging Angel, will be violating any uniform regulations by wearing a cross, a symbol of our faith,” Ester Smith explained.
Abigail’s eyes began to fill with tears.
Ester hugged her and kissed her on her cheek. “You are a daughter of Deseret, of the Prophet. You are loved.” The Prophet’s wife regarded Torbin. “You will take care of her in the Unoccupied States, keep non-believers from harming her?”
“I will do my best, Mrs. Smith.”
She smiled at Torbin. “I think your best will be just fine.”
Just then, Prophet and President Smith walked up. “Excuse me. Abigail, may I have one dance with you? I think good Captain Bender would be happy to trip the light fantastic with you, Ester, wouldn’t you?”
“Well, Sir and Ma’am, first I must warn you that dancing is not my strong suit. So, Mrs. Smith, I apologize upfront for stepping on your toes.”
Mrs. Smith laughed. “I find it difficult to believe that you are clumsy, Captain. But if you step on my toes, it won’t be the first time. Consider yourself forgiven in advance.”
Abigail rose, controlling her tears, and took the Prophet’s offered hand. He led her to the dance floor as the string quartet started playing a waltz. Torbin offered his hand to Mrs. Smith, and led her to the dance floor. He soon managed a waltz, his hand at her waist.
“You are what I would call a true friend to Abigail, Captain Bender. Is that a fair characterization?”
“We faced the Grim Reaper together, Ma’am. That forms a bond between people. We had hit it off right at the first and we are now friends. I only know of one type of friend, and that is an honest, truthful one. So yes, I guess you could call me a true friend.”
The Prophet and President’s wife smiled at him. “Good. Every young lady needs a true male friend, not one who is not simply trying to get into her pants. My time as a model and in Hollywood taught me that the hard way.”
Torbin looked directly at Ester. “I wouldn’t dream of disrespecting Abigail, who is a fine warrior…and person.”
Mrs. Smith met Torbin’s eyes, searching for something. She seemed to find what she was searching for. “Yes, Captain, I can see you’re what is called a good soul. It’s a pleasure to have met you.”
“Ma’am, if I may be so bold, what you have done for and said to Abigail, makes you what I would call a great lady. She has been an orphan. By saying she is a daughter, giving
her that cross, you gave her the sense of family that she needs. I can tell you meant it. So, it is a pleasure to have met you as well.”
He noticed that her eyes were a little moist and was hoping she would not start crying. That may be hard to explain to her husband. But Ester Smith controlled her tears.
“Captain, that is one of the nicest things anyone has said to me in years. I can see why Abigail appreciates your friendship so much.”
“Well, Ma’am, I only know how to act one way. And that’s to be me. I’m a lousy liar. I could never be a spy.”
“Just keep being you, Captain Bender. I sense that you fill a special place. As for Abigail, I know some people started some rumors about who I am, that I was a jealous wicked witch out of an old Disney movie. I just know my husband, and try to… insulate him from some influences that sometimes affect his public persona and decision making. Bottom line, though, is that if not for her aptly-developed abilities, and your well-deserved quest to return home, she would have remained here. It was not some Machiavellian move on my part to get rid of someone. She will best serve Deseret and the Church with her abilities in your Unoccupied States.”
The music reached its end and they stopped dancing. Torbin, proud of himself for not having destroyed the President’s lady’s toes, escorted her back to her seat. Once she reached her seat, Ester Smith turned to Torbin. “Abigail told me while I was helping her to get ready that your wife and her fellow female Russian officers were going to help her develop her ‘feminine wiles’. I hope they can help her develop into a young lady, with all of the graces we women develop as young girls. She has been thrown into a man’s world. The Avenging Angel position goes back to the early Mormon Church with the Danites, special warriors protecting the Prophet and the early Church. It is unfortunate that the Twenty were chosen to fulfill that function so young. But, the Lord sometimes requires we all do things we did not think we could.”
She paused, then continued. “When my daughter died during the Invasion, I didn’t think I could survive. I did not want to. But, I was shown that I must survive, and was given the strength to do just that.”
Torbin thought of his brother, William. A dark expression must have crossed his face as the Prophet’s wife noticed a change. “You lost someone close too, Torbin, so you understand. We carry on because we have been chosen to do just that. We survive for the greater good.”
“Ma’am, I carry on because I don’t want the Squids to hurt any more of us. I want them gone, so kids can be kids again, so Abigail and her generation can start thinking about pretty dresses and parties again, instead of assault weapons.”
He bent over and took Ester’s hand, kissing it. “Thank you for the dance, milady. I’m certain you are as surprised as I am that I managed not step to on your feet.”
Ester laughed, then curtsied. “Thank you, kind sir. I see my husband returning with the birthday girl.”
Abigail had her hand on the Prophet’s bent arm as they walked up together. She was smiling as was Prophet Smith. “I see you were successful in dancing with my wife, Captain. That is an activity for which, unfortunately, we have not had much time. Hopefully, God willing, that will change.”
The Prophet removed Abigail’s hand from his arm. “I need to leave now, with my wife. Like you, we need to have an early start in the morning. We are visiting our new manufacturing centers tomorrow. Soon, we will be depending almost entirely on what we make, rather than mostly what we scavenge. Thank you again, Captain Bender, for helping us celebrate this special occasion.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Sir.”
Prophet and President Smith quickly hugged Abigail, then shook Torbin’s hand. “Please keep her safe until she can return.”
“Will do, Sir,” answered Torbin. Prophet Smith turned and walked over to speak to the string quartet.
Ester Smith hugged Abigail, kissed her cheek. “My husband is bad at goodbyes, so I will fill in for him. You two young Captains must be so extremely careful. I am selfish and want to see you again, all in one piece. I have given Abigail my direct line. Please feel free to use it also, Captain Bender, should you feel the need.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
“Goodbye now, and may God bless you both and keep you safe.” With that, she departed.
Just as Torbin was about to speak to Abigail, he heard an “Excuse me, Captain” from behind. He turned around and saw a twenty-something year old man standing, his right hand in a glove. He stuck out his left to be shaken. Torbin recognized the young man almost instantly.
“Peter, if I remember rightly. I heard you had been transported back here after a stay in our military hospital. Glad to see you are up and around.”
Peter held Torbin’s left hand tightly, as two of the Twenty came up behind him, including Mathew. “I must thank you for saving my life. Your hospital did what they could, and saved my right arm, but the damage was severe from the Eater digestive acids. Only the fact you carried me out on your back and had a MEDIVAC chopper pre-positioned saved me at all. I spent a month in your hospital, have learned that non-believers can be just as Christian and godly as we Mormons. I thank you and will always be in your debt.”
Torbin was always a bit shy and embarrassed when people thanked and praised him for doing his job. His MEDIVAC of Peter was something he would have done for anyone. “I’m glad I could be of service, Peter. Are they providing you some follow up treatment here in Salt Lake City?”
“Yes. They are trying to perform some more skin grafts. I volunteered for some treatment using some, I guess you would call it ‘bootlegged’, Tschaaa medical techniques using nanotechnology and pharmacology. I hope everything works out.”
“I’m sure it will, especially if your Prophet and President has anything to say about it. Hopefully we will meet in the field again sometime, but under much better circumstances.”
Peter then spoke to Abigail. “I and the others wish you a safe and fruitful journey, Captain Young. I will never forget you came back for me, neither will any of the surviving Twenty. No matter where you are, you will always be one of us. I know you will serve God and Deseret well. Please keep yourself and Captain Bender safe. I owe you both my life.”
Abigail gave him a big hug, then followed up with one each for Mathew and the other member of the Twenty, identified as Thomas. “You will always have a place in my thoughts and prayers,” Abigail declared, her eyes moist with tears.
“Gentleman, she will be back. I promise,” Torbin interjected. “I’ll do my best to keep her out of trouble. I will have lots of help.”
“We know, Captain Bender,” Mathew replied. “It’s just that we will miss her.”
“Well, you have that card I gave you. Please feel free to call Security Control and they will contact either Abigail or me. It’s not like she is on the moon or something.” That resulted in some smiles.
Finally, the Twenty members turned to go. “Thank you again, Captain Bender. May God keep you safe.”
“Thank you. Vayan con Dios.” Then, Torbin and Abigail were alone. A few late stayers were dancing to the soothing sounds of the quartet. Others were finishing up conversations, wine, and desserts.
Abigail squeezed his arm. “You were right, Torbin. This wasn’t a big problem. It was fun.”
Torbin saw her bright eyes and had a warm feeling. This is what an eighteen year old young lady was supposed to be doing, not shooting, marching, killing, and watching others die. Again, Torbin felt a deep seated anger against the Tschaaa and what they had done to life on Earth. But, as Torbin had just helped prove in Key West, payback’s a bitch.
“Come on, my dear. We’re going to have a long day tomorrow. I promise there will be other shindigs like this in Montana. We are pretty good at putting together a good time.”
Abigail laughed. “I bet you are. Again, my friend, I thank you. I hope I’ll not be a burden to you in Montana.”
“Abigail, you are not big enough to be a burden. See how s
kinny and weak your arms are… ow.”
A set of stiffened fingers jammed him in his floating rib. “Ouch. That hurt.”
“Not so soft and weak, am I? Just because I am not as big and fat as you are don’t think you can push me around.”
Torbin put on his best act of having been stabbed in the heart. “You have cut me to the core. That insult has fatally wounded me. I will never recover. My wife will be very angry when she hears how mean you have been to me.”
Abigail burst out laughing. When she could finally control herself, Torbin offered her his arm. “Come, my fellow Captain. I will have my limo give you a ride back to your quarters. Then I will see you at o-dark-thirty.”
The sun was just barely starting to show its rays over the horizon when Abigail picked him up in the old former police sedan. It was a bit beat up but its engine sounded smooth and powerful. He threw his clothes in the backseat and sat in the front passenger seat. He noticed the same pack and equipment Abigail had with her after Andrew had dropped him off two days ago. She had the Glock 17 and spare magazines on her belt, just as before. An addition to the equipment was a garment bag hanging from a clothes hook.
“Good Morning, Abigail. Nice to see you so bright eyed and bushy tailed.”
She chuckled. “You’re always this lively, aren’t you Torbin?”
“It is not being lively, Abigail. It’s called being an insufferable smartass. You’ll be able to ask my wife Aleks about that and she will just nod and agree.”
“Then let’s get you back to her as quickly as we can. Please fasten your seat belt. We need to stop at the chow hall.”
Five minutes later, they pulled up in front of the chow hall. Torbin jumped out and went to the front. The double doors were unlocked so Torbin went inside. “Hey Doc, you here?”
“Yo, Skipper. I’ll be right out.”
About a minute later, Doc came out, carrying a beat up cooler.
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