Unconventional Beginnings

by KaLyn Cooper

  Nita sneered. “We have PT at five-thirty tomorrow morning followed by classes on poisonous plants and animals. Jack the ass made a point of reminding us, again, just before he left.”

  “At least the stars gave us the afternoon off, so we’ll see you at the funeral.” Grace downed the last of her wine and picked up the crackers. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”

  “Brig. Gen. Standish assigned me to stay with Katlin tonight,” Tori announced as she grabbed the basket of crackers from Grace’s hand. “I’m not done with those.”

  “There’s clean sheets on the bed in the guestroom,” Katlin said over her shoulder as she walked down the hall. At some point over the past year, each of her friends had spent the night at her home for one reason or another. “Tori, lock up after them, please.”

  “See you tomorrow,” Lei Lu called out.

  “Thanks again for being here for me.” Katlin closed the door to her sanctuary. As she changed into her nightshirt, her longtime friend, Alejandro Lobo, popped into her mind.

  She wondered if anyone had informed him of Ty’s death. He would want to attend the funeral, if he was stateside. He’d left on a mission about the same time Ty was deployed. Perhaps he was still overseas. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t come to her house yet. She’d have to remember to ask her father about him tomorrow.

  Tomorrow she would bury Ty.

  She could survive one more day.

  5

  Marine Captain Alejandro “Alex” Lobo eased his sore body into one of the net seats that lined the frame of the old KC130 Hercules airplane. He winced as he stretched long legs in front of him and carefully crossed them at the ankles. His muscles were beyond exhausted. They ached almost as much as his heart did as he stared at the rectangular box strapped to the floor in front of him.

  “Oh, Christ, what did I get myself into?” he whispered to no one, as he was alone in the gymnasium-sized cargo bay of the transport plane. Alone, except for the body that lay within the standard military casket, protectively encased in cardboard.

  The fact was, he had spent a great deal of effort to make sure he was there and in charge. More than a dozen calls to his superior officers had resulted with the same answer, an emphatic no. It was highly irregular for a Marine captain to escort the body of a Navy lieutenant to his final resting place. The fallen officer was a SEAL, and others from the Naval Amphibious Base in Little Creek, Virginia would normally oversee transporting his body back to his wife and the final internment.

  Alex hadn’t wanted anyone else to see that his best friend got the final respect he deserved. He wanted to be the one to tell Katlin what had happened to her husband. He needed to be there for her as she fell apart in his arms…just like he had so many times before. He’d promised to be there for her.

  A bunch of SEALs out of Norfolk area didn’t know the truth. They hadn’t been in the Afghanistan foothills as Ty and his team slipped into the dark of night…and death.

  Alex had been there.

  He had to tell her. He had to see her again. He wanted to be the one to hold her, comfort her. He knew how to handle her pain. He’d simply pull her into his arms as she cried, and tell her that she’d get through this, too. He couldn’t count the number of times he had done just that.

  To assure he was put in command of this situation, he finally played his ace; he called her father, Brigadier General Michael Callahan. He knew the general wanted to personally ask him questions about the death of his only son-in-law. He also knew the senior Marine had little respect for the man his daughter had chosen to marry. Within minutes of Alex’s call, he had travel orders to accompany the body of Navy Lieutenant Tyler Lee Malone to Marine Corps Base Quantico, Virginia where his wife, Katlin, waited for them both.

  He would bring his best friend, Ty, back to her. He would explain to Katlin that he had done everything he could, but he hadn’t gotten to Ty in time to save his life. She would have to forgive him, eventually. Then, maybe someday, he could forgive himself.

  Alex leaned forward, elbows on his knees, then dropped his head into his desert-roughened hands. He was so tired. He had left the Afghanistan tent-village more than thirty-six hours ago on a flight straight to Dover, Delaware. He’d tried to sleep, but too many other Marines, sailors, and soldiers were celebrating their release from the war. It was a party atmosphere. Some of the men and women aboard the commercial-sized jet were leaving the war for good. Others were headed home for a few weeks of rest and relaxation, then would head back to their units and desert life once more.

  Ty’s body had been shipped to Dover for processing, a nice way of saying the Navy had to match DNA. In this case, an autopsy had been quickly performed to help determine fire angles for the Situational Analysis and After Action final report. The Navy had seldom lost an entire SEAL team so quickly. Too many sailors died that night. Something had gone wrong, and the Inspector General of the Navy was determined to find out why. Marine General Callahan wanted to know why, too.

  Thanks to the general’s rank and position at the Pentagon, everything had gone smoothly in Delaware. Alex barely had time to shower off the gritty sand and change into dress blues before he was notified the plane was waiting on him.

  He had secretly hoped it would take longer so he could get a few hours of sleep in a real bed. He’d caught a couple combat naps, ten to twenty minutes where he had slept deeply and awakened somewhat refreshed, but he really needed a good night’s sleep. He hadn’t slept well the night before the mission, or in the three nights since.

  The thought of sleep and Kat made him think how wonderful it would be to fall asleep with her in his arms again, nothing more than comforting each other. Alex needed the touch of someone who cared about his feelings and his loss, not just the obligatory hugging after sex. He’d had the latter enough to know the difference.

  Sure, he and Kat had been lovers for a time, but that seemed like a different lifetime. So much had happened since those innocent years. She had been his friend for a decade, and he needed that bond now. They would hold each other, knowing the other’s deep pain, sharing their grief for a future that had ended with enemy bullets.

  Alex laid his head back against the cold metal of the airplane and closed his eyes. He thought about his quick marriage to Rachael and their sweet little girl who had arrived the spring of his junior year of college. He wondered if he might have time while stateside to catch a flight to see her in Miami, where she now lived with her mother and new half-brother.

  “Sir,” the voice echoed in the nearly hollow cargo bay. Alex looked up at the young Marine who stood at attention in front of him.

  With an automatic glance to the stripes on the sleeve of his drab green flight suit, then to the name embroidered over his pocket, Alex answered but didn’t bother to stand, “Yes, Corporal Yates?”

  “Sir, we’re preparing for takeoff. Do you want to sit with us up top?”

  “No. I’ll stay here with him.” He nodded toward the brown box ten feet away. The Marine shifted ever so slightly, obviously uncomfortable with what he had to say next. Sharply, Alex asked, “What is it?”

  “Sir, I’m sorry for your loss. Was the lieutenant one of your Marines?” The corporal was obviously confused by the rank listed on the flight’s manifest. Marine Corps officers became a second lieutenant upon commissioning, then were promoted to first lieutenant. Those who were good enough, and wanted a military career, could then become a Captain. In the Navy, ensign was the first rank, followed by lieutenant junior grade, then lieutenant. Thus, Marine Captain Alejandro Lobo and Navy Lieutenant Tyler Malone were the same rank. To complicate the matter even more, it was extremely rare that a Marine Corps officer would accompany a Navy officer’s body. Add to that the fact that they were headed to a Marine Corps base, it was understandable that the aircrew would assume the body was that of a Marine.

  Alex didn’t feel like explaining so he simply replied, “Thank you for your condolences. No, he wasn’t one of my Marines.” He paused before
he added, “Ty was my best friend.” He watched the young man’s face change from an expression of understanding how difficult it must be to take the body of one of your men home for the last time, to honest grief for the officer who was only a few years older than he.

  The engines began their deafening wind up and the corporal leaned in to hand Alex a set of ear plugs. Unlike commercial airplanes, the military KC130 had no layers of sound suppression, nor was this area heated.

  “Sir, you’ll have to strap in.” He pointed to the backpack-style harness attached to the wall. Alex was well aware of the restraints. As a Marine Special Operations company commander, he’d often flown in this style of transport. He’d jumped off the lowered tailgate and fallen into the black of night too many times to count.

  But, three nights ago, it was a helicopter he’d jumped from and landed his team next to Ty’s SEALs as part of a joint operation. A cluster fuck is what it really was, Alex thought as he unconsciously shook his head.

  “Sir,” the corporal now shouted to be heard over the four roaring engines. “When you get cold, feel free to come upstairs where it’s heated.” He pointed to the steps fifty feet away. “Is there anything I can get you? We have hot coffee.”

  “No, thank you. That will be all Corporal Yates.” Alex’s dismissal was an indication he didn’t want to talk any more. The young man’s hand twitched as if to salute before he obviously remembered he was not wearing a hat. He nodded instead, turned on his heels and disappeared up the stairs.

  Once again, Alex was left with Ty and memories.

  6

  The pilot smoothly touched the large bird onto the MCB Quantico airfield, the same landing strip where the president’s Marine One helicopter is kept when not in use.

  Captain Lobo stepped out of the plane and settled his white hat on his head, hanging onto it assuring the wind didn’t blow it off. He walked over to the group of sailors dressed in their most formal uniform, the equivalent of the Marine Dress Blues he wore.

  “Morning, gentlemen. I’m Captain Lobo and I’ll be handling today’s procedures,” Alex informed them.

  The highest-ranking Navy men stepped up. “I’m Lieutenant John Carson.” He grabbed Alex’s muscled bicep and asked, “A word?” as he guided him a few feet away from the others.

  “Look, I know they said you are in charge here, but Ty was SEAL, one of my teammates. We went through BUD/s together. We take care of our own.” The six-foot two-inch man was almost a mirror reflection of himself; broad shoulders that tapered to slim hips, a body toned daily with a regiment that would cripple most men, but was necessary for their jobs.

  “I understand; we do the same in the Marines. But this is a special case. Ty was my best friend.”

  At the click of high heels on tarmac, both men turned and watched as Katlin Callahan-Malone strode toward them with a straight-back, chin poised regally. The two-inch heels of her black leather designer pumps had increased her height to five-feet nine-inches, but she looked small as she gripped the inside left arm of her father, highly-decorated Marine General Callahan. Alex couldn’t read her face as they walked toward them, but he had no problem understanding the general’s mood.

  “If you don’t like it, tell him,” Alex said brusquely as he nodded toward the Marine general wearing gold stars on his shoulders.

  Katlin stumbled but quickly righted herself with the next step. She turned her face away from him and spoke to her father, too far away for Alex to hear over the winding down of the engines. He was, though, able to read the general’s lips as the older man assured her he would take care of everything.

  “Ten hut. General on board,” he commanded and all Marines and sailors in the vicinity came to attention with a salute. The general’s salute was brief but crisp.

  The wind lifted and blew Katlin’s long blonde hair across her father’s impeccable Dress Blue uniform. Using her free hand, she grabbed at the uncontrolled strands then slipped them underneath the navy blue suit jacket that matched her demure, knee-length dress. Alex almost smiled at the familiar gesture.

  He wanted to look into Katlin’s blue within blue eyes but the Jackie O sunglasses covered her face from the top of her finely arched eyebrows to half way down her high-boned cheeks. He needed to know if she had any idea what happened in the hard-packed sand that awful night. He wanted to spare her the details, but needed her to know he had tried to get to Ty as fast as he could.

  Bullets flying everywhere and tracers lighting up the ravines between the small hills filled his vision before he slapped the memory away.

  When the Callahans reached them, the general spoke first. “Thank you, men. I know this is an unusual circumstance, but I’m sure everything will progress smoothly.” Both younger officers understood his meaning.

  Katlin was three feet away, standing stone still, firmly attached to her father’s arm.

  Alex couldn’t force his eyes to look away from her beautiful face as he searched for a hidden sign. Was she happy to see him? Upset because he was there? Once again he doubted his choice to accompany Ty’s body home. All he needed was a minute to talk to her. Privately. Soon.

  The hydraulics of the gigantic tailgate squealed and everyone glanced at the waiting plane.

  “Men.” That was all the senior officer needed to say.

  “Sir, ma’am, if you’ll excuse me.” The naval officer saluted and walked to the group of SEALs.

  Alex hesitated. He wanted to touch Kat, hold her for just a moment, but such a public display of affection was not allowed. He needed to tell her how sorry he was that they had both lost their best friend. She stood beside her father, every feature of her striking face nearly frozen in an expression that revealed nothing. She was silent and made no move toward him.

  It was then he knew that she blamed him for Ty’s death. Why else would she act this way? She must already know the truth.

  “Captain Lobo, we’ll talk later.” That was a dismissal if he’d ever heard one.

  “Yes, sir.” Alex saluted then walked away to assume his duties.

  He ordered the funeral guard into place as the back hatch of the KC130 was completely lowered and the conveyor was moved into place. Inside, the SEALs from Little Creek had removed the brown cardboard box packaging. They quickly unfolded and ceremoniously draped the new American flag and over the shiny mahogany casket. On command, they lifted it onto the conveyor and guided it down the ramp.

  When the casket slid to the end, Alex commanded, “Ten Hut,” and everyone in uniform saluted, even the general. “Hup,” and hands returned to their sides in one swift motion.

  A steel-gray hearse backed into position. At Alex’s command, the Navy SEALs lifted the casket. In step, slowly, they carried his friend’s remains the few feet and placed the shiny wood box inside the long gray car that would carry Ty’s body to Arlington National Cemetery.

  Alex watched her father guide Katlin into the first limousine. He headed that way to ride with them. Over the roof of the long black vehicle, the general stared at Alex then decisively shook his head no.

  7

  Alex joined the SEALs in the next limo. Once inside, he looked around the large car packed with broad-shouldered men who stared at him with disdain. Alex announced, “Tyler Malone was my best friend. I forgave him for joining the Navy, but I was so damn proud of him the day he received his Trident, which he gave me the honor of pinning on him.”

  The SEALs looked at Alex with new respect because the pinning ceremony is almost sacred to them.

  Recognition now glinted in Lieut. Carson’s eyes. “We met that day.”

  Alex nodded, then continued, “Ty pinned me when I finished the Marine’s Special Operations School, and he was there at my Change of Command when I took over Bravo Company.” This time, everyone in the car looked at Alex with more esteem. Everyone in the back of that limo knew what it took to command a Marine SpecOps company.

  Now that he had their attention and respect, Alex went through the procedures as he
’d been briefed back at Dover.

  When they arrived at Old Post Chapel on Ft. Myer, they were met by Monsignor Gillpatrick, Katlin’s uncle. They had talked by phone the day before, so Alex knew the chain of events. He had reminded the Monsignor they had met him several times before. Alex had been Ty’s best man while the priest had presided over the wedding ceremony. They had both been present during many of the Callahan’s D.C. parties while Ty, Kat, and Alex were in college. The priest had softened and given kind, heartfelt words about Alex’s loss as well. He was not consoled. Only Kat’s forgiveness could begin his own healing process.

  Although Monsignor Gillpatrick was a military chaplain who still worked at the Pentagon, that day he wore the traditional black hassock without military rank. Alex knew the priest was actually a Navy Captain and could have worn his Navy Dress Uniform with silver eagles rather than the stiff white collar. Today, he was Kat’s beloved Uncle Francis.

  As the casket was brought out of the hearse and into the chapel, the priest made the sign of the cross and placed his hand over his heart as the pallbearers made a five-step formal turn, positioning it on the trolley. He then slowly led the procession into the chapel’s foyer.

  Bowed in prayer, the Monsignor stood at the head of the casket with the SEALs at the sides and waited for all the guests to be seated. Hundreds crowded the small church. It seemed as though every country around the world was represented, if not by their ambassador, then the Charge d’Fare. Katlin had been raised in embassies around the world and personally knew hundreds of heads of state.

  Katlin’s classmates, in full dress uniforms, had seated themselves in the back pews. Officers under the direct command of Major General Callahan stood against the walls on the right in their Marine Dress Blues with silver flashing from every collar and epilate. Naval Academy classmates and Navy friends of the general lined the walls on the left side.