In the end, the United States settled for containment, and the region could be managed at the price of the drug trade and limiting for now the small beachheads of bad actors like Russia and an increasingly muscular China.
The United States could hope for stability… a national pastime in Washington.
In places like Miami, Norfolk, and the Pentagon, staff officers pored over the effectiveness reports of Century Ratchet and analyzed the air campaign over Venezuela. Negotiations began for the Americans to clear the mines dropped off Río Salta so Venezuela’s “legal” energy industry could once again resume shipments of crude — and smuggled narcotics — to customers worldwide, the largest market being the American northeast.
Wilson wished to remain aboard Coral Sea and in command of his squadron, but his injuries made the act of traversing the distance from his stateroom to the wardroom a daunting challenge. After he had clogged passageways too many times, he chose a self-imposed exile, accepting visitors in his stateroom most of the time. With Weed’s assistance, he was able to preside over Annie’s memorial service on the flight deck. When he learned from Macho and other witnesses of her courageous sacrifice, he first wrote Mike Schofield a heartfelt letter and then, with CAG’s strong approval, drafted a citation and recommendation for Annie to be awarded the Medal of Honor.
Whenever he was alone with his thoughts, Wilson thought of Mary — and of Father Dan. He said prayers of thanksgiving and pulled his Bible off the shelf — where it had lain available but unopened for many months. With help from Billy and Weed, he boarded the COD and flew to Roosevelt Roads, and then to Norfolk, to begin his rehabilitation. Coral Sea and the Firebirds returned to Norfolk two weeks later.
Monique was getting her life back after the nightmare of the cabin. She helped Father Dan find an apartment in town, which he hated, but it was much closer for her. Why she put up with him, after their near-death experience with the Americans, was beyond her. She decided it was because of his friendly, good nature. He didn’t worry, he trusted come-what-may, and she knew whatever protests she came up with would be overcome by his impish grin. So far, though, she was having her way on one matter — no more cabins in the Woodyard.
At least she had a “new” car. The parish had replaced the old one, being full of bullet holes, with a newer used vehicle that had air conditioning. Yes, she was happy to serve Father Dan, which allowed him to serve the parish, and her simple life had meaning. Thirty-five and single. Everyone asked her why she didn’t marry, and she had suitors who told her she was beautiful. She didn’t mind men, but she didn’t want the aggravation of married life. “So become a nun,” they said.
Maybe she would.
As she drove up to her small house and stepped out of the car, she noted an unfamiliar car coming down the single lane road. As she watched it, she wondered which neighbor was expecting visitors. The glare on the windshield concealed those inside as flashes and loud sounds erupted from the passenger’s side.
Monique was on the ground, unable to move, unable to speak. She concentrated on the blades of grass in front of her eyes. She had never seen them so clearly but remembered placing her head like this against the ground when she was a child. She became fascinated by a lady bug climbing one of the blades: red-and-black wings, innocent, beautiful, peaceful….
She bled to death before any neighbors could help her.
At the same moment, Father Dan walked along the Edward Trace enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. How he missed the cabin and his daily exercise. He swung his arms in vigorous full motion as he walked, an occasional car his only company.
He appreciated the letter he had received from Jim Wilson, now safe with his family in Virginia. A good lad, he thought, just a bit misguided. But his heart was in the right place, and it was good to hear from him. What an adventure that day in the cabin was! Right out of the movies! But at what cost? He still couldn’t believe he had lived it — and survived it. He prayed for the dead and for an end to war, and he gave thanks he and Monique had been spared and could continue a life of service. What makes men behave this way? he thought as he ruminated on a homily for the weekend mass. Attendance was way down since the incident, and Father Dan sensed some were nervous to be around him. He chalked it up to his vivid imagination and settled on “Selfless Service” as the topic of this week’s talk.
The quiet. He missed it more than anything else, and, looking around, he realized he was alone on the road. Smiling, he thought of a ditty he could bellow out here. Free. Free to enjoy the glory of God’s creation. He extended his arms and took a deep breath.
Oh, it’s no… nay… never…!
No nay never, no more!
Something popped him hard, and, collapsing to his knees, he grabbed his chest in surprise. What happened? He felt a warm fluid flowing down his right side and a sharp pain. He had difficulty breathing. He looked down and saw a tear in his jacket. “What?”
The second bullet exploded into his sternum, killing him before his back hit the asphalt. He lay there for five minutes before a motorist passed by — and didn’t see him. His body was discovered after two more minutes by one of his parishioners coming from the other direction.
Three days later, Father Dan and Monique shared a funeral mass given by a visiting priest. The nervous townspeople paid their respects and buried them side by side in the small cemetery along the Trace. One of his fellow missionaries flew down from Maryknoll to be present. No one from the American Embassy was there. They did not know of the deaths of these two locals who had given great assistance to the United States of America, and who had led one American citizen to a deeper relationship with God.
And the people prayed God would have mercy on their souls.
EPILOGUE
Macho gazed out the window of her commuter turboprop as the city of Washington loomed larger. The aircraft snaked down the Potomac on its visual approach to Reagan National, and she noted the National Cathedral, the football stadium at Georgetown, and the Kennedy Center. She could also make out the White House, and, in the distance, the Capitol Building that dominated the city.
Below, she saw racing sculls on the river and people walking along the green shoreline near the Lincoln Memorial. The Potomac was calm, showing barely a ripple as the aircraft descended closer to the water. This was a viewpoint she had never had in her dozens of carrier landings, which required complete focus on the glide slope and the line-up in front of her. Out there, she was surrounded by water yet had never really “seen” it during any of her landings, and at night it didn’t matter as all was black nothingness.