by Diva D. Wood
“What’s up?” Lakisha asked.
“Something bad,” Desiree replied. She could sense something was horribly wrong. “Cancel my appointments for this afternoon, okay? And tomorrow too. Maybe for the rest of the week. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, girlfriend,” Lakisha said with a nod. “Call me, okay?”
“Will do.” Desiree grabbed her keys and was out the door in a flash.
At the Lindbergh Field cellphone lot, Desiree found Landon sitting on the curb, staring off into space. But he was instantly aware of her arrival and was in her arms as soon as she exited her vehicle. They embraced for a long moment without saying a word.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Desiree asked as Landon took a deep breath.
He exhaled. “Joe is gone.”
“What?”
“Joe Mawhorter is dead.”
“Oh my God,” Desiree said, her hand covering her mouth. “When? How?”
“Our last mission,” Landon said, his voice breaking. “The details are classified. But he’s dead, and I’m to blame.”
“Oh, baby,” Desiree said. “Don’t say that. Why do you say that?”
“Because he stepped in front of a bullet that had my name on it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t go into any more detail than that,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I probably shouldn’t even have shared that much. It’s all classified. But…” Landon stopped mid-sentence, burying his head in his hands and sobbing.
All Desiree could do was hold Landon. She pulled him into her arms, holding him there for a long time.
Eventually, Landon drew a ragged breath, raised his head, and wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For that display of weakness.”
“Oh, baby,” Desiree said. “Why do you men always think that it’s weak to cry?”
Landon smiled weakly. “It’s the way we’re wired, Desiree. And I work in a field where the bullshit macho quotient is magnified by a factor of ten.”
Desiree exhaled. “You don’t have to be anything or do anything for me, boo. Just be yourself.”
“Okay,” Landon said. “Can we go now?”
“Where to?”
“Anywhere but here,” he said. “Let’s drive down to the beach.”
“Which one?”
“Anyplace but Coronado will do just fine.”
Desiree nodded knowingly. “Okay.”
It was a silent drive as Desiree maneuvered the minivan south on I-5 toward Imperial Beach, their favorite seaside hangout when they were in high school. Landon stared out the window most of the way. Desiree struggled to find the words—any words—that would ease her man’s pain. But none were forthcoming.
After about forty-five minutes, they arrived at the parking lot at the Imperial Beach Pier. Landon exited the vehicle, slammed the door, and began walking toward the beach.
Desiree followed at a distance, wanting to give him some space.
Landon sat down in the sand, staking out a spot far away from any other beachgoers. He stared off into the late-afternoon distance as the sun began its long descent that would end in another picture-perfect Southern California sunset.
Desiree gingerly made her way down onto the beach, shucking her shoes, feeling the warm sand caress her feet as she approached Landon. She sat on his right, not saying anything for now. Just being there if he needed her.
Landon bit his lower lip as he continued to stare off into the distance at nothing. He glanced over at Desiree, smiling weakly. “We’ve spent some pretty fun times on this beach.”
“We have,” she said with a nod. “Senior class bonfire, end of summer 1984, comes to mind for me.”
“Seems like a lifetime ago.”
“It was. We were just kids.”
“Do you ever wish you could go back to those days, but with the wisdom and knowledge we have now?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s all about the journey,” Desiree said. “It’s all part of the plan, baby. We end up where we’re supposed to be. Sometimes it just takes us a while to realize it.”
Landon smiled. “College philosophy?”
“School of hard knocks.” Desiree smiled back. “And more sappy romance novels than I can count.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “Those always have a happy ending, don’t they? Unlike life.”
“Usually,” she said. “Life usually does too.”
“Sometimes,” Landon said quietly. He picked up a rock and hurled it into the surf. “It certainly won’t for Danita and Joe, will it?”
Desiree had no response to that.
Landon smiled sadly. “I don’t have any answers either. I’ve been grasping for them all week. They don’t exist. None of it makes any sense.”
“Does it have to make sense?”
“It needs to make more sense than it does at the moment,” Landon said. “Joe took a bullet meant for me. I should have been the one who came home in a flag-draped coffin.”
“But you weren’t,” Desiree replied, drooping her arm around Landon’s shoulder. “And I don’t feel one bit of guilt over being glad you came home to me alive.”
“Neither do I,” he said, exhaling. “I just need some time, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, nodding. “So where does that leave us?”
Landon sighed, pulling Desiree close. “I waited twenty-five years for you, Desiree. You can wait a little while for me.”
She smiled, wiping away a tear. “Of course. Are you ready to go home yet?”
“Yep,” he said. “Let’s roll.”
Desiree’s cellphone buzzed, and she checked the caller ID. Danita.
Shit.
Desiree answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Dez?”
“Yes, Danita. I’m here. Where are you?”
“I’m home. Can you come over? It’s…Joe.” Danita dissolved into tears.
“We’re on our way,” Desiree said. “I know, girlfriend. I’m so sorry.”
“We? How do you know?”
“Landon is here with me. He just got home. Can he come over with me?”
“Of course,” Danita said. “See you in a bit?”
“On our way.” Desiree hit end and put the phone in her purse. She looked over at Landon. “Can you go with me to see Danita?”
Landon smiled sadly. “You and your retroactive requests. Didn’t you just commit me to going with you?”
Desiree exhaled. “I should have asked before involving you. I’m sorry.”
Landon got a faraway look on his face. “There’s a difference between being ‘involved’ in something and being ‘committed’ to it, Desiree.”
“I imagine there is.”
“One time our football coach gave us this speech where he tried to illustrate for us the difference. You remember those pancake breakfasts we always had to kick off the new season?”
“I remember,” she said. “I could never go. I always had to work.”
“I know,” Landon said. “He was knee-deep into his speech when he got a glint in his eyes and said, ‘I’ll be right back.’”
“Uh-huh,” Desiree said, nodding. “I’m sure there’s a point to this, and I’m sure you’re seconds away from getting to it. Go on.”
“Oh, stop,” Landon said, laughing. Desiree was glad to see him happy, if even for a fleeting moment.
“Please continue this compelling tale,” she said. “I’m on the edge of my seat.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Landon said. “When Coach Korlep returned, he had a dozen eggs in one hand and a pound of bacon in the other.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He said, ‘Gentlemen, the chicken and the pig both played important roles in this morning’s breakfast.’ He held up the dozen eggs. ‘The chicken was involved.’ And then he held up the pound of bacon. ‘But the pig was committed.’”
Desiree rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother.
”
Landon smiled. “I’m committed to Joe and his family. I would have laid down my life for him. He just beat me to it. So, to make a long story short—of course I’ll go with you to see Danita.”
It was a brief ten-minute drive to the Mawhorter residence in the Chula Vista neighborhood of Castle Park. Danita was sitting on the porch when Desiree’s minivan pulled into her driveway.
Danita rushed to Desiree, who embraced her crying friend tightly.
“I-I can’t believe he’s gone,” Danita said.
“Neither can I, girlfriend,” Desiree said softly.
Danita turned her attention to Landon, surveying him for a moment. “Did you just get home?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Were you there when…when…”
Landon exhaled. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, Danita,” he started tentatively. “But yes, I was.”
“Did he tell you anything?”
Landon answered immediately. “Yes. He said to tell you he loves you and the kids very much, and that he will always be watching over you.”
Danita smiled through the curtain of tears. “That’s my boo. Always thinking of us first. I know you can’t share anything else, Landon, so we’ll leave it at that. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Danita. I’m going to go out to the back yard for a minute, okay, girls?”
Danita and Desiree nodded.
Chapter 14
Landon wandered through the gate to the Mawhorters’ modest back yard. An in-ground pool anchored the well-groomed landscape. Joe’s prized grill sat off to the side. Nobody but him was allowed to use it, so it was covered, patiently awaiting its owner’s return.
Landon smiled briefly as good memories came flooding back: memories of backyard barbecues, beers, and laughs.
Unfortunately, they were overpowered by a very bad memory.
“Landon! Look out!” Joe shouted as Landon thrust his combat knife into the heart of an Al-Qaeda terrorist.
Landon whirled around in an instant to see an insurgent with his AK-47 aimed right at him. The insurgent had an evil, glassy-eyed grin on his face . Landon knew it was too late to pull his sidearm.
In a heartbeat, Joe moved in front of Landon. a burst from the AK-47 hit Joe in the throat. He cried out and fell to the ground. Another round hit Landon in the shoulder.
The insurgent’s gun jammed, giving Landon time to unholster his MP-5 machine pistol.
“Motherfucker!” Landon roared, ignoring his wound and advancing on the suddenly terrified terrorist. Landon unleashed a three-round burst that ripped open the terrorist’s abdomen, causing him to drop to his knees.
Landon finished off the terrorist with a three-round burst to the head.
Enjoy your virgins, asshole, Landon thought.
The thought was a fleeting one, as a second terrorist grabbed Landon from behind, wrapping a garrote wire around his neck.
Landon gasped as he struggled to remove the wire. Digging his nails into his own neck, he relieved the pressure, stepped forward, and threw the terrorist over. Their positions reversed, Landon quickly wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, wrenched violently, and watched him crumple to the ground.
Landon’s peripheral vision alerted him to the presence of a third terrorist coming in from his left. Landon removed a throwing knife from his belt and hit would-be assassin number three in the jugular vein.
Not one to admire his handiwork, Landon scanned the area for more targets until he heard Joe gurgling for breath behind him. He was at his lifelong friend’s side in a heartbeat.
“Hold on, buddy,” Landon said. “Hold on. Medic!” he screamed.
Their unit’s corpsman was on his way over instantly.
Joe shook his head. “I’m done, Landon.” He drew in an agonizing breath, and Landon recognized the worst sound in special operations—the death rattle of one of your teammates.
“You saved my life,” Landon said as Corpsman Randall Johnson tried in vain to stanch the bleeding. “How am I ever supposed to repay that?”
“You can do that by getting a life, Landon,” Joe replied, his voice reduced to a barely audible whisper.
Landon knew instantly what his friend was referring to. “Okay.”
“And tell my wife and kids I love them very much and will always be with them. I’ll always be watching over them.”
“Will do, buddy,” Landon said, fighting back tears.
“Goodbye, my friend.” With one final rattle, Joe was gone.
Landon had scant time to absorb the moment. He heard Petty Officer Second Class Ramon Martinez scream for help as he battled with a pair of insurgents who were trying to drag him to a beat-up Toyota pickup truck. Landon could see Martinez was wounded, but still holding his own in a two-on-one, hand-to-hand combat battle.
Landon felled one of the terrorists with a full-auto burst from his weapon. That left one to go, as far as Landon could see. And that unlucky bastard was going to wish he wasn’t the last man standing.
Landon bemusedly watched the terrorist go through a series of knife-fighting moves he’d probably seen in a bad martial arts film. He grabbed the terrorist’s hand, broke it, and disarmed him. A kick to the crotch sent the terrorist to the ground, where he let loose a string of what Landon recognized as Arabic obscenities.
Shut the fuck up, Landon thought angrily. He grabbed the terrorist by the hair, yanked his head back violently, and ran the knife abruptly over the man’s throat. Landon wiped the knife on the terrorist’s shirt and watched dispassionately as blood spurted from his severed carotid artery.
Landon turned his attention to his wounded comrade. “Martinez! Can you walk?”
“Get me on my feet and I can run, sir!” Martinez shouted as Landon pulled him to his feet.
They moved away from the area quickly. Behind them, another pair of SEALs carried their fallen teammate and their unconscious captive.
Landon’s radio crackled. “Spear Main to Spear Actual. How copy, over?”
Shit, Landon thought. “Spear Actual here, Spear Main. Copy Lima Charlie, over.” He motioned for the rest of the squad to stop.
There was a moment’s hesitation on the other end of the radio. “Lieutenant Stone?”
“Affirmative.”
“Where is Lieutenant Mawhorter?”
Landon sighed. “KIA, Spear Main.”
“Shit. Any other casualties?”
“Two wounded.”
“Is the package secure?”
“Affirmative.” Landon wasn’t in the mood to talk and hoped his curt, short answers were effectively communicating that fact to his superiors. “Moving to extract.” He was suddenly acutely aware of his shoulder wound, wincing as Corpsman Johnson applied a bandage.
“Apparently a flesh wound, sir,” Johnson whispered.
Landon nodded.
“Roger that. See you on board, Lieutenant Stone. Well done.”
Whatever, Landon thought as he and his men moved stealthily toward their extraction point.
Landon shook his head, plopping down into one of the lounge chairs on the patio. He stared into the distance, barely noticing the beautiful, sun-kissed San Diego afternoon.
Despite being deeply engrossed in his thoughts, Landon was aware of Danita and Desiree coming outside.
He turned around and took the Corona Danita offered. He downed it in a single gulp. “Got any more of these?” Landon asked with a sheepish grin.
Danita nodded. She turned and went back into the house.
“I guess I’m driving home, huh?” Desiree said.
“I guess so.”
Danita reappeared with another beer. She handed Desiree a wine cooler.
No one said anything for a long, awkward moment. Finally, Danita exhaled. “Joe’s service is Friday. I’d like for you to say something, Landon.”
“You got it,” he said, nodding vehemently. “Where?”
“Humphrey’s, over on Broadway.”
“That’s not
going to be anywhere near big enough,” Landon said. “There are likely to be several hundred people there just from the Navy. We need a Plan B.”
“Okay,” Danita said. “And?”
“The high school,” he said. “It’s perfect. We all had plenty of good times there. The stadium can handle the crowd. And—” Landon stopped.
Danita smiled. “I know, Landon. We won’t be spreading Joe’s ashes on the same day. But I get it. Joe was very clear what he wanted done and how. When the time comes, you’ll be in charge of that.”
“I wasn’t suggesting we do it right away,” he said quickly. “I just… Aww, shit. Never mind.”
“I like it,” Danita said. “Can you make the arrangements, Dez?”
“You got it,” Desiree said. “Are you tired, girlfriend? We can go and let you rest—”
“No, no, no,” Danita interrupted. She downed the rest of a glass of wine. “Don’t you guys dare leave me alone. The kids won’t be home until tomorrow.”
“Okay, girlfriend,” Desiree said.
“Maybe we can cook out later,” Danita said. “I know it sounds weird and maybe a little bit creepy, but it would make me feel closer to Joe.”
“Not weird or creepy at all, Danita,” Landon said. “We can do that. Joe’s cherished grill might be above my pay grade, but I’ll give it my best shot.”
Chapter 15
Landon stepped out onto the back porch, alone with his thoughts.
He’d never felt so exhausted in his life when he plopped down into a lawn chair next to the grill.
Danita came out with two plates. One with the raw steaks, and another to bring the finished steaks in on. She placed them on the table. Landon smiled and nodded. She returned his smile and went back inside the house.
Landon sat there silently, sipping his beer, staring into the distance at nothing.
“Those steaks aren’t going to grill themselves, sunshine.”
Landon whirled around in his chair and saw his old friend grinning at him from the other side of the patio.
“Jesus,” Landon hissed, trying in vain to conceal his shock.
“You know me, Landon. I like surprises.”
“No shit,” Landon observed dryly, mustering every ounce of his strength to rise out of the lawn chair. He opened the grill, familiarizing himself with it.