He smiled as he saw Heather with one packed bag and a suit bag that must contain the lieutenant colonel’s dress blues. “Let’s go,” he told her and escorted her out to his convertible.
“What about saying goodbye to my kids?” she asked, annoyed as he hustled her out of the house.
“There is no time. I secured us seats on a military flight and it leaves in,” he consulted his watch, “fifteen minutes. Otherwise we won’t be able to get another until late tonight. The kids won’t even miss you.”
She hoped he was right as she allowed herself to be put in his car and driven away without so much as a hug from the children. She fretted about that until she thought about Marsha. “What do you know about Marsha?”
“Not much. She stated something in our interview today that had the brass hopping. They immediately transferred her to Washington. I assume they will want her to testify. Somehow Kodel and Biggins are involved and I have to get there.”
“Why do you need me?” she wondered.
“For Marsha’s sake. So she doesn’t go rogue again.”
That gave Heather enough to think about for a long time. It wasn’t until she was in the noisy plane heading for Washington with servicemen and women and even dogs, that she thought of more questions to ask him. By then it was too late, too crowded, and too noisy. She’d have to wait until they landed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Lieutenant Colonel Gagliano, will you please explain what you know about the night of…” began the questioning, similar to the debriefing they had done on her not so long ago.
In clear, concise words, Marsha confessed to the killings of Zabi, his brother Maahir, and the four tribesmen that had accompanied them. She made sure to mention that Zabi and one of the tribesmen had been among the men who had raped her. She mentioned that Zabi was the father of her children. She also told them about the threat he had made over the phone. Captain McKellan had already provided proof that a phone call had come from her house to her parents’ phone that night and Heather had been allowed to testify about what she had seen that night before Marsha left their home.
“And you waited the promised hours until you reported your wife to Captain McKellan?” she was asked.
Marsha didn’t like that they were questioning Heather. Her wife was not in the military and she was not under investigation. The fact that she had known Marsha was leaving the house with a loaded gun seemed to put her and her testimony under suspicion.
As they went over the events of that night, they read her father’s testimony into the record. Marsha wondered if perhaps he was angry at her over her mother’s death and that was why he didn’t make an appearance.
“You stated to Captain McKellan that you remembered something,” stated Colonel Kodel who was now back in dress uniform and sitting on the panel convened to pass judgement on Marsha. This proved there had been listening devices back in the jail where Marsha had been held.
“Yes, sir, that is correct,” she answered clearly into the microphone before her. She saw several of the same panelists who had questioned her illegally before, ignoring SERE protocol. She wondered if they would make her go through the psychological testing once again. After all, she had gone rogue.
“Could you explain that?” he asked hastily, almost eagerly.
“Sir, I believe that information would be better served in a more private setting rather than…” she began, but was cut off.
“Lieutenant Colonel Gagliano, are you refusing to answer our questions?” General Biggins asked, angrily.
“No, sir. Of course not, sir. I just felt because of the delicate situation that I….”
“Your feelings in this do not matter. Just answer what you are asked,” he commanded.
“Yes, sir,” she answered formally. She glanced at Lance for a moment before she took a deep breath. “As you know, I didn’t remember some of the things from my time in Afghanistan. From my statements and your questions, I knew you were frustrated that I didn’t remember more. I tried, I really tried, but I couldn’t. I didn’t think there was any more.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Colonel Kodel interrupted. “Get to the point!”
“You asked if I remembered anything that I bring it to my counsel. There wasn’t time; however, I did remember something. I remembered something that involves your son, Lieutenant Kodel.”
“Perhaps we should take this in a more private session…” Kodel began, but was stopped by Biggins.
“You denied her that privilege earlier. Let’s hear what she has to say.”
Marsha told them of how the tribe lived in the caves in winter to avoid the weather and in tents during the summer, often visiting other tribes so their young people could pair up. She could sense some of her audience getting impatient as all of this was in her previous testimony. They perked up when she stated that on one of their travels between camps, she was able to see along the plain. She saw others who were traveling to the same meeting as they were and one of the travelers was in an army uniform.
“Which army?” General Biggins asked.
“He appeared to be American, sir,” she replied respectfully.
“How could you be certain?”
“Because I saw him again, twice more, sir.”
“Please go on with your story,” he stated, intrigued with whatever intelligence she could give them. He was beginning to suspect he knew who the man might be and glanced at Colonel Kodel to see if he too had figured that out. The man looked pale.
“We arrived at the gathering of the three tribes. There were games where the men tore apart a sheep while riding horses and the winner got the sheep. There were other contests, foot races, and this was when I believe I saw Lieutenant Kodel,” she revealed.
“That’s a lie! My son was…” Colonel Kodel interrupted to object, but was silenced by General Biggins and another man.
“He ran in the footrace, clearly a part of the tribe. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but then I was called back to my duties and didn’t see him again during that gathering.”
“How long ago was that?” General Biggins asked.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I have no concept of time while I was over there. I can say it was after I gave birth to my daughter and had miscarried my first son.” Marsha saw some sympathetic nods before she continued, “The third and final time I saw Lieutenant Kodel was in a skirmish between the tribes. I was traveling with Zabi’s extended family when we were attacked by another tribe. Lieutenant Kodel was among the other tribe attacking us. They exchanged sword fight, but when the men brought out the AK-47s and shot at each other, both tribes hid and slowly backed off. I know one of the men in Zabi’s tribe was killed and mourned. I don’t know how many in the other tribe were hit or killed.” She finished her remembrances and waited.
The room was silent. Into that silence, Colonel Kodel felt compelled to object.
“That couldn’t possibly be my son. This is a set up. She’ll say anything to protect her hide!”
“I think, colonel, in light of this new information, along with the information we gathered in Bagram, that we can formally charge your son with being a traitor,” General Biggins announced.
In the hoopla that followed, Marsha watched amazed as Colonel Kodel attempted to shout that idea down, defending his missing son and the credibility of information that Marsha recalled.
“You’ve done it now,” Lance murmured beside her.
“I’ve only told the truth of what I remembered,” she murmured back, glancing behind them at her wife sitting there, shocked at the behavior of these military brass.
“I wonder what else is buried in there,” he murmured back as they waited for everyone to calm down. Colonel Kodel was finally escorted by MPs from the large chamber where they had been holding the hearing.
“I think we will need some time to evaluate your testimony, Lieutenant Colonel Gagliano,” General Biggins told her formally. “For the moment, you are dismissed; however, do not leave Washington.”
Marsha was surprised. Just this morning she had been led into a room in chains to get into her dress blues. Now she was being let go, but only on the condition that she stay in town.
“Let’s go,” hissed Lance as he took her elbow to lead her through the swinging barrier, “before they change their minds.”
“I don’t understand,” she tried to say, but was cut off by the captain as she was led out of the room, her wife following behind her.
“Don’t question it. Just go!” he urged her until they were out of the building. She looked around, blinking at the harsh sunlight.
“What just happened?” Marsha asked.
“The witch-hunt constructed by Kodel has just turned on him. He’s been defending his gay son to any and all, assuring them that he couldn’t possibly be involved with a transsexual. He himself is so homophobic, it bleeds from his ears. He was after you with a vengeance,” he confessed. “I think it was a transference of the anger he felt towards his son. What you just told that formal committee only confirmed rumors. If he was running off with that woman who was once a man, that was desertion. He can’t sweep that under the rug…not anymore. Furthermore, it looks like dear old sunny boy may be a traitor as well.”
“I really didn’t make that up,” Marsha started to defend herself.
“Look, they can ignore your defense of your children and parents for this,” he assured her.
“What? I killed six men and one of them killed a civilian, my own mother!”
“Yes, but we have a man on the loose in Afghanistan that is a traitor. We are at war within the country and while we make a strategic withdrawal, men like him will be a bounty if we can find them.”
“But what will that have to do with what I’m being charged with?” she was confused.
“They will probably recommend your testimony in exchange for your silence. Come on, let’s get you to your hotel.”
Marsha was thrilled that she could finally touch Heather’s hand, even if it was just for holding. They held hands as Captain McKellan drove them to the hotel where Heather was staying and checked the lieutenant colonel in.
“Do you think I’ll lose my commission?” she wondered aloud as they drove along.
“I don’t think you are comprehending how big a betrayal we are talking here. Colonel Kodel was involved in a cover-up of his son’s misdeeds. While what you did was not sanctioned, they will probably ask you to retire,” McKellan explained. “Are you going to fight that retirement or accede to their wishes?”
“I’ll have to think about it,” she hedged, not willing to commit.
“You do that,” he left it at that. He knew it could be days before they heard from the committee while they debated over the information she had given them.
* * * * *
Marsha was called before them twice more. Her willingness to help and her testimony, which did not deviate from the first that she gave, made it hard to debate despite Colonel Kodel’s cronies’ attempts. Even Colonel Rugster tried. Their questioning was reminiscent of the interrogation that Marsha had received earlier in the year and Captain McKellan was prepared for them. His objections were loud and fast.
Finally, the committee decided exactly what Captain McKellan had warned Marsha they would do.
“Are you prepared to retire at the rank of lieutenant colonel for health reasons, most particularly PTSD? In exchange, we will not prosecute the events that occurred in Michigan.”
“No, sir. I will not,” Marsha said clearly into the microphone, not allowing Lance to say anything on her behalf. She could hear his intake of breath beside her. She also saw the shock on many of the panelists’ faces at her audacity. “I will, however, accept a medical retirement provided I receive 100% disability and my family and I receive full benefits associated with the rank of lieutenant colonel. Further, if you drop any such consideration of those charges, I will keep my silence regarding the treasonous actions of one Lieutenant Kodel,” she dropped that little bombshell and sat back as the panel turned off their own microphones and whispered amongst themselves.
Lance turned off their microphone and leaned in to Marsha’s ears. “You have them by the balls, don’t squeeze,” he warned her. She nodded shortly.
“If asked, will you return to testify against Lieutenant Kodel?” the general had turned his microphone back on after a long debate.
Marsha turned her microphone back on as she nodded, “Of course, sir. I feel it would be my duty.”
After much consideration, mostly posturing on the part of the various ranks, they granted her request. Effective immediately, Marsha would be retired at the rank of lieutenant colonel in exchange for her and her wife’s silence. They had thrown that last bit in—if she or her wife violated that silence, she could be prosecuted as a war criminal for her actions that took place in Michigan.
Marsha and her wife were granted the courtesy of a flight back to Chicago. “What just happened?” Heather asked, feeling as though the last couple of days had been unreal.
“We got our life back. We can never speak about my testimony, but you and I both know what it was. Let’s just never talk about it again,” Marsha said meaningfully, her look glancing past her wife to the captain across the aisle. “We have to decide where we are going to go, what we are going to do,” she told her wife.
“Wow, we have a lot to decide, with the kids and all.”
“That we do, baby. That we do,” she answered as she held her wife’s hand and then brought it to her lips for a kiss on the back. Chocolate brown eyes met cornflower blue eyes in mutual understanding.
EPILOGUE
The funeral for MaryBeth Gagliano had been put on hold while Lawrence tried to get his son to understand that he wanted to wait for his daughter to attend, but as he couldn’t find out where she was being held, they went ahead without her. Lawrence put his house up for sale the next day. The cleaners had gone through and removed the blood stains, replaced the carpet, and thoroughly cleaned the place, but Lawrence wanted no memories of the place where his wife had been killed.
Eagerly anticipating the proceeds from the sale of his dad’s house, Marvin was thrilled to take him back to Ohio with him. He was so sure he would get his hands on the money that his father would get for the lakeside house, that he was willing to put up with the cantankerous old coot…that was, until his sister Marsha called.
“Dad?” she finally tracked him down at Marvin’s. The real estate signs in front of the old house had alarmed her and the agents wouldn’t give her the number of where her father was staying.
“Marsha? Are you okay? Where are you?” he asked, his questions sounding very much like MaryBeth’s.
“I’m fine, Dad. I’ve decided to retire,” she told him. “Heather and I are going to check out Silicon Valley and maybe something out in Colorado. We were wondering if you’d like to go along? Maybe live near us or with us? Get to know your grandkids? Maybe provide them with a father figure?” She realized she sounded like her mother with all these questions and she subsided into silence while she waited for her father to answer.
“You want me to go with you?” he clarified, feeling suddenly choked up and wanted. He knew why Marvin wanted him. The twit was already shopping for a new boat, the mercenary little bastard.
“Yeah, how about you come along while we drive out there and see what we find. Maybe I’ll send out a few resumes and see who responds.”
“You won’t have any ties on the base?”
“Naw, I got my discharge papers already.” She didn’t tell him they had been issued in haste by Washington and were conditional on her silence. “I retired a lieutenant colonel. They were probably glad to see me go.”
“Was it for PTSD?” he asked, worriedly.
“Yeah, that, and it was time. I’ve spent enough time away from Heather and the kids. We need to find each other and a balance in our family life. The kids are young so wherever we settle, they can start over without it being too much stress on their s
chool life. We’d like you to come along. Are you game?”
Lawrence was thrilled to be asked. He knew Marsha was just as she seemed and wanted nothing other than his presence. Getting to know his grandkids sounded great to him and providing a male figure to them was right up his alley. He agreed wholeheartedly.
* * * * *
“Are we ready?” Marsha asked a few days later. They had the rack on top of the van with a plastic box that contained suitcases. The van was filled with things for the children and a cooler that contained juices and other snacks. The diaper bag was filled to overflowing and there was an extra bag packed in the back just for diapers. Her father was sitting in the passenger seat and would switch off with Heather or Marsha as they’d take turns driving west to see what jobs were available to a retired army lieutenant colonel who specialized in computer systems. The future looked bright wherever they landed. They would be back for their possessions, but for now they were on a big adventure together.
As they sang songs with the children or watched movies on the overhead flat screens, Marsha realized there would always be secrets in their family. Her silence was paramount to their continued safety as well as their future. When she went back to pack up the house one final time, she would debate over the burqa and whether she should pack it with the rest of her belongings. It was the chador that would create the biggest debate in her mind. As she admired the beautiful material, she decided to keep it, thinking of it as a veil…her veil of silence.
THE END
If you have enjoyed VEIL OF SILENCE, you may enjoy K’Anne’s unforgettable novel SMALL TOWN ANGEL. A sample is here for your enjoyment:
As the bus pulled into Port Washington she wondered if she should get off at this stop or go further up the coast. The bus was still pretty crowded, they had taken on a lot of passengers in Milwaukee, but Amy decided to wait it out, see where it went. She knew the end of the line for this particular section of her journey would be Green Bay but she was searching. Searching for something. Anything. She wasn’t sure what, but her instincts told her to sit down and bear with the fates, to put up with the smelly obese woman who had gotten on the bus back in Milwaukee and overflowed her seat into Amy’s. This woman apparently hadn’t washed in days and eaten garlic right before she got on the transport. Amy grinned at herself and was polite to the woman. She probably had no idea that she smelled or that she even was taking up part of Amy’s seat on the cramped bus. Amy was willing to put up with it. Something kept her in her seat and not just the fact that she was packed in like a sardine.
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