She looked up at him and squeezed his hand. “I want to be like you, Daddy,” she said as if she’d read his mind.
It tore his heart to hear her say it. “That’s not such a good idea, honey. You’d be much better to be like Mommy.”
He tugged her hand and they cut across the straw-covered field toward the path that led to the windbreak trees. The morning sunshine was bright but slanted and didn’t give much warmth. The air was clean, visibility above the mist a hundred miles. Walking with his daughter, Bono was as happy as he had ever felt. He had only a few days with them, the reminder always tugging at the back of his mind, but the time together was so sweet and happy, it overshadowed the fact that soon he’d have to leave.
They walked for a while in silence until Ellie said, “Something bad happened, Daddy.”
Bono turned to look down at her.
She pointed toward the fields on the other side of the trees. “Miller is dead,” she told him.
Bono stopped and knelt beside her. “I know that, baby.”
“I saw him. It was kind of yucky.” She kept her eyes straight ahead, not looking at him. “Mom knows something about Miller that she won’t tell me, something about how he died.”
Bono thought a moment, measuring his words carefully. He knew everything that had happened, of course. He was the one who had buried the old dog. He knew that Miller had been shot. “Those were some bad men,” was all he answered.
“Yeah. You should have seen Grandma. She was really mad. I thought she was going to hit one of them.”
Bono put a hand down and touched the wet earth to balance himself but didn’t say anything.
“Grandma can get really mad sometimes,” Ellie said.
“Yes, she can. But you can understand that. Those men weren’t very nice.”
Ellie’s eyes turned down as she remembered. “Not nice at all.” She glanced back toward the house. “They said bad words, Daddy.” She hesitated, looking at him with a worried face. “Lots of s-words.”
“Whoa, the s-word. That’s not good.”
“You’re not supposed to say shut up, right, Daddy?”
“No, you’re not. It sounds mean.”
“Well, one man said it to another man at least five times. I knew when he kept saying that, Grandma was going to get really mad.”
Bono couldn’t help laughing out loud. “Well, you can understand that,” he repeated.
Ellie nodded, unsure of what her father was laughing about.
Bono stood and they walked again in silence. “I’m sad about Miller,” Ellie said.
“He was a good dog, Ellie. But good dogs go to heaven. And he was getting old. I think he was ready to move on. In fact, I think he’s glad to be in heaven. He’s happy there right now, barking and playing in the sun.”
“Do you think he misses me, Dad?”
“I’m sure he does, baby doll.”
“But there are other people up there, right? I mean, he’s not in heaven all alone? There are other kids to play with, other kids to scratch his ears? What good is heaven if he’s alone? He needs someone to feed him and give him baths.”
“Yeah, baby, there’ll be someone there to play with him, feed him and scratch his ears.”
Ellie thought for a moment. “Do you think God likes Miller, Daddy?”
“I think He does, baby. I think God loves all of His creations.”
“So He’ll take care of Miller? He won’t yell at Miller if he barks or make him eat that one yucky kind of dog food, you know, the kind that makes him sick?”
“No, baby, He won’t. Miller will be happy. Heavenly Father will see to that.”
Ellie smiled, apparently satisfied.
They walked on, reaching the trees. Bono waited for his daughter to choose the way and she turned left, away from the field where the gang had been a couple of days before. He walked beside her and for a while she sang quietly to herself, a tune that Bono didn’t know. Finally hyphens: none !important; gaphe realized that she was making it up. The path was covered with wet gravel, and the small rocks crunched with every step. The trees were full of blackbirds, hundreds of them calling from the branches, their shadows falling across the path. Bono slowed his pace and looked up at them. “Ellie, you know that I can’t stay with you and Mommy for too long,” he said.
Ellie looked away. “How long, Daddy?”
“I only have a couple more days.”
“When Mom says I can have a couple of jelly beans, sometimes I take eight.”
Her father shook his head. “I don’t have that many, baby.”
Ellie pursed her lips. “Sometimes I take five.”
It broke his heart to listen to her. “Honey, you know that I would stay here forever if I could.”
She didn’t answer.
“You know that it’s the hardest thing I ever had to do, leaving you and Mommy here alone.”
“Mommy’s worried about something, Daddy. I don’t think you should go.”
“I know she is, baby, but she’s going to be OK. Heavenly Father is going to watch over both of you.”
She looked down. She was trying to be brave. Bono recognized the determined crunch across her forehead, but though she tried to hold back the tears, her clear blue eyes brimmed over. She wiped them, embarrassed and unsure. “Don’t go, Daddy,” she started pleading. “Please, don’t go away right now. If Mommy wasn’t so worried . . . .”
Bono suddenly felt like crying, too. He felt like weeping for his daughter, for Caelyn, for himself. He felt like weeping for the world, all the lonely children, all those who’d lost so much happiness, so much innocence, so much joy in this dark time. He felt like weeping for the days that lay before them, the things this little girl would have to endure. The knot inside his stomach crawled into his throat so tight he thought he would choke. He tried to talk but couldn’t—it was just too painful, and he had to catch his breath and look away. He couldn’t let her see the tears. He couldn’t let her watch his shoulders heave. He quickly wiped his face and stood up, looking across the open field, then took a deep breath and steeled himself before bending down to her again.
Ellie kept her face low, frightened and frustrated.
“I’m so sorry, baby. Do you know that? I’m so sorry I have to go.”
“You could tell them you have a stomachache.”
“I could do that, baby, and they might let me stay awhile. But Ellie, there are other little kids out there, little boys and girls just like you, who don’t even have any grandmas or mommies to take care of them. They live in places around the world where they don’t have anything at all. I need to help them. I need to help their mommies and daddies. If I can help them, then maybe I can make things a little better. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I think that’s what I should do.”
“I don’t care about those other kids.” Her voice was angry now. “I want you to stay here with me and Mommy.”
He reached out and touched her cheek, and she leaned against his palm. “I know you do, Ellie. I understand that, I really do. But there are things I have to do over there, things that I can do hands moving constantlyro finger to help. And I’m not the only one. There are others too. Other soldiers. Firemen. Policemen. Doctors and nurses. People like that. They have to leave their families, at least for a while. Do you understand that, honey? Do you see why it’s important?”
Ellie didn’t answer.
Bono cupped her face against his palm. “Look at me, baby.”
She shook her head defiantly.
“Ellie, can you look at your ol’ dad?”
She kept her head down, brushing her hands against her face, first one side and then the other. Then she took a deep breath, firmed her shoulders, and looked up.
“Do you believe in Jesus Christ?” he asked her.
Ellie thought, then slowly nodded.
“Do you really believe He loves you?”
“I know He does, Daddy.”
“How do you know that,
baby?”
“You and Mommy taught me. And I believe you. And I can feel it sometimes,” she moved her hand, “here, inside my heart.”
“That’s true, baby. That’s the way it is. Everything you’ve been taught and believed is true. Jesus loves you. He knows your problems. He is our Savior. And that’s the only thing that matters. This is going to be OK.”
“But Daddy, when you go away, I get so lonely. And I feel so bad for Mommy. I think she misses you lots more than you know. She needs you, Daddy, like I do. I think sometimes she gets scared.”
Bono quickly straightened up and held his hand to hide the tremble in his chin, the tears wetting the creases around his eyes. “Heavenly Father is going to bless you,” he finally told her. “Sometimes I have to leave you, but He will never go. He is always with you, Ellie, He never leaves your side. He knows you. He loves you. He wants you to be happy, and He will provide a way.”
“But I can’t be happy when you are gone. I worry about you, Daddy. Mommy does, too.”
Bono shook his head and closed his eyes. Help me, Father, to know what I should tell her. Help me, Heavenly Father, to comfort this little girl.
The answer came to him in a rush of warmth and peace. It didn’t make any sense, and it wasn’t something he would have ever thought of himself, but he knew it was the answer.
“She wants to help!” the Spirit told him.
He thought, then knelt down and looked into his daughter’s face. “I need you to do something for me, baby. Something really important, OK? But it will be fun.”
Ellie looked up, her eyes expectant.
“Mommy’s birthday is in a couple of weeks. I want you to make her a special cake, OK? I’ll talk to Grandma and make certain she gets the things you’ll need, but I need you to make the cake. And when you do, I need you to tell her that it’s from both of us. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you make a special cake for Mom?”
Her face brightened. “Can I decorate it the way I want?”
“Any way you want. I know you’ll make it beautiful.”
Ellie looked off, her face scrunching up as she thought. “I could decorate it to make it look like Miller, a cute dog the PCASS had provena28 with floppy ears. I saw a picture of a cake decorated like that in a magazine. The doggy was so cute. He was brown and had chocolate kisses for his eyes and licorice strings for whiskers. It was so neat, Daddy.”
“Beautiful, Ellie. You make it look like Miller. Grandma will help you, but I’m going to tell her that it needs to be your cake.”
Ellie broke into a smile.
“There’s something else I need you to do for me.”
Ellie nodded urgently.
“I won’t be here to take care of Mommy. And I think you’re right—she is a little worried. So I need you to help take care of her, OK? Keep her smiling. Keep her spirits up. Make sure she says her prayers at night. Make sure she thanks God for all the blessings we’ve been given. I know we’ve got some problems, Ellie, but Heavenly Father loves us. He loves you more than you could ever know. You remind Mommy of that, OK? You tell her every day. Every day, you go up to Mom, pull her down to you, put your arms around her neck, and look into her eyes. When she is looking at you, Ellie, then I want you to say these words: ‘God loves us. Daddy loves us. We’re going to be OK.’
He looked at Ellie and waited until she nodded.
“If you do that for me, it will help both me and Mommy. If you do that, then every day I’ll know that, no matter where I am, someone gave Mommy a hug and reminded her that we love her and that everything will be OK.”
“I’ll do it, Daddy. I’ll never forget.”
He put his hand out. “Pinky swear.”
She interlocked their little fingers. “Pinky swear.”
They pressed their thumbs together, making a snapping sound. “I’ve got your promise now,” Bono said, stattp://www.w3.o
FOUR
Offutt Air Force Base, Headquarters, U.S. Strategic Command, Eight Miles South of Omaha, Nebraska
Brucius, the former Secretary of Defense, sat before the electronic console. The command post was almost quiet. Designed to allow a group of thirty or forty technicians and military officers to monitor the strategic situation in a time of national crisis, primarily during a time of nuclear war, most of the tactical screens around him were blank, the work desks empty. A huge computer/television monitor was mounted on the front wall with six smaller screens beside it. The largest screen showed a picture of the aircraft in the sky along the eastern half of the United States. The number of aircraft was amazingly low—frighteningly low—fewer than forty or fifty in all, and all of them military. On a normal dayhat are you thinkingllShe really didn’t know. before the EMP attack, there would have been five thousand or six thousand aircraft in the sky. There was no better indication of the death of the nation than the utter lack of civilian airliners in flight. Brucius watched a trail of European Airbuses flying across the ocean from England, guessing, but not certain, that they were laden with relief supplies. Where they were coming from, where they were heading, what they were carrying, he didn’t know. Raven Rock was calling the shots entirely and had been for several days now, choosing not to advise or even pretend to take the counsel of the war planners and military officers at Offutt. Which was fine with Brucius. Let the men in Raven Rock ignore them. Maybe they’d forget about him, too.
Practically the entire world thought he was dead. Fewer than a dozen military officers knew that he was here. It was a very tight secret, kept completely on a highly compartmentalized, need-to-know basis, for it was critical that they protect him until they were ready to act.
Ignoring the large monitor on the wall, Brucius concentrated on the computer screen at the desk where he was sitting. He was waiting for a message and he shot a quick look toward the digital time on the lower corner of the computer screen. 7:12 a.m. A little more than a day since James Davies had left.
They should have heard something from him. They should have gotten the signal before now.
James had been in Raven Rock for six or seven hours by this time.
Brucius waited. At his side, a young officer waited with him. A couple of senior non-commissioned officers worked the communications console four rows back. Behind the non-commissioned officers, at the back of the room, behind a thick pane of one-way glass, the others waited. Some of them paced. Some of them slept in their chairs. A couple of them ate, picking at the salads and sandwiches the cafeteria had sent down.
All of them were nervous, but none of them were nearly as fearful as Brucius.
* * * * * * *
Raven Rock (Site R), Underground Military Complex, Southern Pennsylvania
The first thing they did was to take James Davies’ clothes and burn them. Then they stripped him down, searched every inch of his body, sent him through an X-ray machine to check for implants, and left him in the room to wait, naked, cold, and scared.
It was pretty clear that he was not among friends, and it was just as clear that they didn’t trust him. They didn’t trust anyone any more. Anyone outside the coven was the enemy, and there was no way for James Davies to invite himself in without raising deep suspicion.
So they left him in the interrogation room off the entry into Raven Rock while they decided what to do.
Time passed. Hours? A day? He didn’t know.
Waiting, James got angry. It was one thing to be careful. This had nothing to do with that. To leave him there for hours, naked, without the dignity of something to even cover himself with, had nothing at all to do with security. It was part of the mental handicapping to bring him under their control, part of the psychological intimidation. “You’re in our world now,” was their implicit statement
More time passed. He grew colder and angrier. A small metal chair was the only furnishing in the room. Sitting on it, he glanced in the upper corner, staring at the security camera. “A little clothing here would be nice!” he called angrily toward it, knowing they
were watching. He turned to the wall where a couple of nondescript dime-store pictures had been mounted, know double glass doorsro fingering there were cameras and microphones concealed there as well.
Realizing he was in for a long haul, he did the only thing he could think of. Having been subjected to the most humiliating search, naked, shivering, hungry, and exhausted, he stood up, walked to the corner, lay down, curled up, and fell asleep.
* * * * * * *
The doctor watched the intruder on the television monitor. Although he was middle-aged, the civilian psychiatrist was easily intimidated because he was new, having been recruited to work at Raven Rock just a few weeks before the EMP attack. The military officer standing beside him had three silver stars on his shoulders, but there was something about him that the doctor didn’t like. For one thing, he was far too young. How old could he be? Mid-thirties? And yet here he was, a general? The doctor shook his head. Yeah, things were in upheaval, and tens of thousands of senior officers had been killed in the nuclear attack on Washington, D.C., but come on, who was this kid? And who in the world had made him a three-star general? And his age wasn’t the worst of it. It was the pride and arrogance that bothered the doctor the most.
He had been in Raven Rock only a couple of weeks, but he didn’t understand military protocol at all.
The general watched the closed-circuit monitors for half a minute. It appeared James was asleep. “You’re certain he’s not contaminated?” the general demanded of the doctor.
“Nothing, general. He’s clean as the day he was born.”
“The X-ray?”
The doctor held up a couple of dark monochromatic radiographs. “Nothing, sir. Nothing implanted under his skin. I assure you, he’s not carrying anything. If he had any covert reconnaissance or tracking devices, we would know.”
The general didn’t answer as he watched the screen. The doctor had better be right. They couldn’t take the chance with this man. They knew far too much about James Davies, and there was no way they were going to let him into Raven Rock without being absolutely certain he wasn’t there to plant a tracking device or reconnaissance bug. And the stuff the FBI had now, the tiny, secret, and amazingly effective bugs—and yes, bug was the perfect word to describe them—forced them to take extraordinary measures to be sure.
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