Sarah smiled and also took that in, as the black night rolled past around them. Finally, she said, “I’m looking forward to seeing that thirty-foot trident. And the names on the wall.”
“I’m looking forward to showing them to you.”
Sarah refrained from adding:
If we’re not gunned down outside the gates…
* * *
“Now, that’s a compound,” Sarah breathed.
“With a really tight home-owners association.”
Sarah now saw Homer had been right – there was no way to see the Dam Neck Annex without being seen by it first, no kind of stealthy approach possible. And she had been right as well: they were just having to rock up. Still, Homer stopped them at maximum remove – just as the front gates became visible.
This left them stopped in the middle of the road, a few feet out onto a last low land bridge, 10 meters wide, and 100 long. The whole area on approach had appeared strangely clear – of anyone upright. No living in sight, unsurprisingly. However, also no dead walking around.
But a whole lot of destroyed ones lying on the ground.
And even if Sarah hadn’t been able to see the front gates, which she barely could in the moonlight, she still might have worked out they were at the farthest visible point from them.
Because they were parked in a ring of dead.
Destroyed bodies spilled into the water to either side of the bridge, sprawled in unholy poses, rotting away. Sarah guessed they’d been dropped in ones or twos, right as they wandered in, all from long range. She could tell they’d been put down quickly and silently because there were so few – they never had a chance to start moaning and draw more.
The blacktop at the foot of the bridge was covered with them, as well. But these ones had been crushed into pulverized and fairly homogeneous meat, presumably by heavy vehicles coming and going.
Sarah looked out at the water to either side.
“Lake Redwing,” Homer whispered. He opened his door and climbed up to lean across the roof, Sarah following him out on the opposite side. Neither were keen to climb down onto the meat tarmac. From here they could see, just past the far end of the bridge, a 20-foot steel wall, twice as tall as the one in Newport News, and presumably a hell of a lot better-reinforced.
Sarah whispered, “At least there are no aiming lasers on us.”
Homer didn’t respond, and when she looked across at him, he not only had his NVGs down, but also had his rifle up, pointed toward the gates. And she could see his hand was on the AN/PEQ-15 device on the barrel rail.
“There are night-vision aiming lasers on us, aren’t there?”
“A little bit.” Homer finished whatever he was doing with the IR laser/illuminator and lowered his rifle – at which point the huge front gates cracked open, no more than a couple of feet. He slung himself back into the cab, Sarah following him down and in.
“What did you signal to them?” she asked.
As he started the engine and rolled them smoothly forward, he said, “Golf Echo Romeo, Oscar November, India Mike Oscar.”
By the time they reached the looming wall, the giant twin gates had opened just enough for the truck to slip through.
And they shut right behind them again.
* * *
And seconds after those gates pressed shut…
A handful of dim red combat lights, positioned low to the ground, came on inside. In the blood-red glow, as the truck rolled to a stop, Sarah could see they were now parked in the middle of some kind of a courtyard, or forecourt, at the corner of an enormous four-story building, which sprawled way off into the darkness to both left and right. The structure was truly massive.
A wide paved walk led straight to the front doors, of which there were four, all made of steel. The entrance to the building was circular, protruding from the corner of the otherwise rectangular structure. The levels above the front doors were glass-fronted, and had balconies, like some kind of viewing area.
Off to either side of the paved walk were sections of gardens with curving paths, unlit. Sarah could just make out, hulking over the one to the right, what must have been that trident, made of World Trade Center steel. If Homer hadn’t described it to her, she wouldn’t have known what it was in the near dark.
The whole courtyard, the gardens, all of it was deserted.
Until suddenly it wasn’t.
The four front doors opened wide, all of them at once. And a dozen hunched figures spilled out – operators, fully kitted up, rifles to shoulders. Sarah could perfectly recognize what they were, just from having had Alpha in her cabin. They were the same thing, only more of them. They fanned out smoothly into an arc circling the nose of the truck. Homer unclipped his rifle and put it down in the footwell; then unholstered Sarah’s Glock and put it on the seat. He opened the driver’s-side door slowly, and stepped out of the vehicle smoothly, hands out to his sides.
None of the dozen wraith-like figures moved.
But no sooner had those four doors closed behind them than they pushed open again. And, this time, out came another dozen men, then a dozen more. Still they came. None of these were kitted up, or armed, at least not with rifles. But still, to Sarah’s eye, they were obviously the same thing.
The lean lines. The perfect posture. The confidence.
As the newcomers spilled out behind the armed contingent, one pushed his way to the front. He was by no means the biggest, but he seemed insistent, and had a lot of physical presence. As he reached the security arc, and stepped through it, he reached out with both hands and pushed down the rifle barrels to either side, then kept walking forward.
Sarah could see he was heavily bearded, but had a magnificent smile glowing out from beneath it. He raised one hand beside his head. And he waggled it, pinkie and thumb out.
Homer shook his head and stepped forward.
“Kili,” he said. “Screw you, man.”
“Homer. Brother.” They embraced – crushingly tight.
The armed men behind finally lowered their weapons.
But then raised them again as Sarah climbed out of the passenger side. She also put her hands out to her sides. But she was already looking beyond the ring of armed men, beyond even the less armed ones crowding behind them…
At other figures spilling out of those steel front doors – smaller ones, some of them much smaller.
They were women and children.
Other than the six words exchanged by Homer and his friend, absolutely no one spoke. There was an unmistakable air of awe in this courtyard, of reverence. Some kind of holy silence. As if nobody could quite believe what they were seeing. And nobody wanted to disturb the magic of it.
Like Odysseus returning to Ithaca, Sarah thought.
And then, as reverent and magical as the scene already was, the sea of figures parted again. First the families in back, then the men in between, and finally the security team. And through that gap walked a woman – along with two small children.
Her breath catching in her throat, craning to see, Sarah stepped up beside Homer, who was also walking forward, both of them passing around the short, bearded man. Together, they reached the woman and two kids, all five of them now in the center of the assembled group, which flowed around to encircle them, every face looking in.
Finally, Sarah could make out the two little ones were a boy, perhaps seven years old, and a girl, no more than three or four. Even in the deep red light, she could see both had cherubic blond hair. And angelic pale skin.
Homer squatted down before them.
* * *
She’s not going to remember me, Homer thought.
She hadn’t even been two when he left. Far too young.
“Daddy!” the girl squealed, throwing her arms around his neck.
“Hello, Isabel,” Homer said, sweeping the tiny girl up into his arms, along with the boy alongside.
“Dad,” the boy said, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Hiya, Benjamin.”
As Homer squeezed both kids to his chest and didn’t let go, he felt Kili’s hand squeezing his shoulder from behind – plus reading his mind, about them not remembering him. “We made sure they saw a lot of photos. Told ’em all the stories.”
Homer twisted to look back up at him, eyes blurring, nodding, not really able to speak. And, as he did so, he also saw Sarah walking up from behind, on his other side.
“You must be… Ellie?” Sarah said, to the woman who had emerged with the kids.
“No,” the woman answered gently. “I’m Debi. Kili’s wife.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Sarah sounded flustered.
Blinking to clear his eyes, Homer looked a single question up at Kili, who shook his head. “I’m sorry, brother. She’s gone.”
“When?”
“At the beginning. Or nearly.”
Homer swallowed heavily, once. “Properly?”
Kili nodded yes this time.
Finally, Homer pushed the boy and girl out to arm’s length, smiling through tears, not bothering to wipe them away. And now he could see Isabel holding a scruffy and badly worn plush toy, which he slowly recognized, as she held it out to him with tiny hands. It wore a blue raincoat, red wellies, and floppy fisherman’s hat.
It was a Paddington Bear.
Ben said, “She takes it everywhere, Dad. Since you sent it to her from deployment, she thought it would help you find us.”
Homer smiled through more tears. Only seven-year-olds in military families knew the word deployment. But they knew it well. Taking the bear from Isabel, he remembered buying it the day he landed at Heathrow, then mailing it to her as soon as he got settled at Hereford. As he regarded it now, its hat, which was also the top of its head, flopped backward, revealing stuffing beneath. He smiled again, laughing through tears.
“We’ll have to fix this for you,” he managed.
The little girl nodded, smiling big. Like Christmas morning.
“And I’ll tell you about the bear we met on the way here. That one was a little bigger. Though he must have lost his hat.”
But then Homer looked over the top of Isabel, as something caught his eye from above. It was the viewing area above the entrance, where some more low red lights had come on. Silhouetted there were a half-dozen hulking figures, shoulders sloping into shadow, all of them flanking one who stood out ahead, in the center. Homer squinted to make him out.
“Come inside, brother,” Kili said. “Much to catch up on.”
Homer looked down again, then stood, picking up both his children as he rose. Kili patted him on the back and guided them all toward the front doors. Sarah walked just behind, the others closing ranks behind them, but also giving them space, as Homer followed his friend inside.
And he didn’t put the kids down again for a long time.
Faith
When he finally did, it was due to Sarah whispering in his ear.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
Homer still had tear-stained cheeks, but as he lowered the kids to the floor, he said, “No, it’s okay. I’m crying because I’m happy. My kids are with me again. And my wife is with God.”
Sarah merely nodded.
The five of them, two travel-weary adults and two kids, plus Kili, moved through the long and dim corridors, deep into the interior of the giant building that anchored the Annex. There were still a few others walking beside and behind them, but giving them space, and slowly peeling away. The women and children, who were in the minority, disappeared first. The men lingered longer, like an honor guard. Now that Homer could see through tears, plus focus on something other than his children, he accepted and returned a few quiet greetings.
“Welcome home, Homer. It’s good to see you, brother.”
“Hey, Cruz,” Homer said.
The man squeezed him around the shoulders, then fell away.
“Long time, Homer. Damn sure a sight for sore eyes.”
“You, too, Mack. Missed you. Missed everyone.”
Then he, too, was gone.
“Thought maybe you rang the bell on us, man.”
Homer smiled, shook hands, and tried to look everywhere at once. There were some very old, very familiar, and very fondly remembered faces – and also a few new ones. That wasn’t unusual. Though there was something a little odd about the group that had come out, and Homer couldn’t quite work out what it was… But soon they were all gone, and only Kili was left leading Homer, Sarah, and the kids down an empty hall.
Homer finally turned to Kili. “Did you see it – the carrier?”
“The Kennedy?” Kili nodded. “Yeah. Hard to miss a Ford-class nuclear supercarrier. Especially since it kind of crashed into us.”
“So you’ve got ISR up?”
“Always, man.”
Of course, Homer thought. They wouldn’t have survived this long otherwise. And they wouldn’t have been DEVGRU. He stopped and grabbed Kili’s arm. “Is she still at anchor?”
Kili shook his head again. “No.”
“When?”
“Steamed right before sundown. You just missed her.”
“Sundown today?”
“Technically yesterday.”
Homer checked his watch, then called to mind the exact hour of sunset at this latitude at this time of year, along with the carrier’s top speed. And he started doing math in his head. “Listen, what I’m going to need—”
Kili grasped him by both arms, interrupting. “Look, brother, we’ll get you everything you need. But right now it’s the middle of the night. Let’s get your kids to bed and get you settled.”
Homer exhaled, releasing a lot of tension. But not all of it.
“Okay,” he said.
* * *
Kili swiped a keycard on a wall-mounted reader, then handed the card to Homer and opened the door, the light inside coming on automatically. “This is you,” he said. He paused, looking around inside. “Black Tom got killed a few weeks ago.”
Peering inside, Homer could see a suite that was moderately spacious but nearly bare, with two beds, a footlocker at the base of each, and an empty desk, with outlets and USB ports over it. Other than a desk lamp, nothing was plugged in. “What was Tom doing in an officers’ billet?”
Kili shrugged. “Officers are a little thin on the ground lately. Anyway, you can bunk here. At least throw your shit down.”
He put his arms around the kids and made way as Homer and Sarah entered, dropping weapons and vests on one bed, and a chair in the corner. As they kitted down, Kili said, “Hey, why don’t we pick up your kids’ stuff and move it in here with you?”
Homer considered this. “No. They shouldn’t lose what familiarity they’ve got. Plus, we’re not staying.”
“Okay,” Kili said. “Whatever you say. You want to go put them to bed, then?”
“Yeah,” Homer said. “That’d be great.”
Kili said, “I’m guessing your friend here…”
“Sarah,” she said.
“Kili,” he said, taking her hand.
“Homer told me about you.”
“I bet. I’ll take Sarah here to the mess and get her fed. Then we’ll meet you in the team room. Debrief there.”
“Sounds good,” Homer said. “Wait, where am I going?”
Kili nodded. “The kids know the way. But don’t freak out when you get there. Gray Squadron’s team room got slightly repurposed into a family area and nursery. Ben and Izzie’s berth is right off that, beside mine, with Debi and the kids.”
Homer shook his head in mild disbelief, then stepped out, picked up Isabel, and put his arm around his son. As they all disappeared down the hall, he spoke over his shoulder to Sarah. “You’re in good hands.”
“Hey, she hasn’t seen the food yet,” Kili muttered.
* * *
“The food’s actually excellent,” Sarah said, not long after. “How are you so well provisioned here?”
Kili didn’t respond to this question, as Sarah shoveled it do
wn. The two of them sat in a large and modestly well-lit cafeteria, not quite by themselves. Though it was past midnight, there were about a dozen others in there with them, scattered in ones and twos around clean white tables and benches.
No one was staffing the facility, or cooking. But the remains of the hot buffet was more and better food than Sarah had seen in two years. There was also bread, pastries, soft drinks, juice, candy bars. Whatever suffering the end of the world had inflicted on these guys, it hadn’t hit their stomachs too hard.
When it was obvious no answer to her question was forthcoming, Sarah tried a smile and said, “Well, Homer did tell me what JSOC wants JSOC gets.” Still nothing. “But JSOC’s long gone, isn’t it?”
Despite Kili’s stony and silent bad-cop routine, Sarah couldn’t help but feel herself warming to him. Maybe it was her sense that there was a smile hiding down under that thick beard somewhere – like he wasn’t suited by nature to this role, to stonewalling her. Maybe it was just how obvious it was that Homer loved him.
Screw it, she thought, throwing caution to the wind. “Homer says you’re his best friend. From anywhere in the teams.”
The facade seemed to crack a little. Kili inhaled and then released a breath, his broad chest expanding, as deliberately as if drawing on a cigarette. “We’ve been squadron-mates since we got here.”
“Since Green Team?”
If Kili was surprised she knew about Green Team, he hid that as well. But he also ignored the question. “Why don’t you tell me how you two came to hook up.”
Sarah nodded. “He knocked on the door of my cabin.”
“What, out in the woods?”
“Yeah. Out in the woods.”
Kili still didn’t quite smile. “Kind of a BOL? Bug-out location?”
Odyssey Page 17