‘Maybe I’ll complain to the union, when I get a chance.’
‘Yeah,’ Carrie said, looking out to the empty sky, no last-minute reprieve out there. ‘When you get the chance.’
Grayson Carter worked in one of the maintenance shops for AirBox, and he was trying to catch up on some paperwork when the door to the offices blasted open and General Bocks and Randy Tuthill were there, staring at him.
‘Sir… what can I—’
Bocks said, ‘Grayson. You’re a minister, aren’t you? At a church in the city?’
‘Yes — yes, I am. Fourth Street Baptist. I minister there on weekends and—’
His upper left arm was grabbed hard by the General. ‘Grayson, we need you to come with us, right now. We need you, and we need you bad.’
‘What… what for?’
Randy said, opening the door and waving the two of them on through, ‘We’ll explain on the way, and by God, Grayson, please tell us you’ll do it. Please.’
Carrie no longer wanted to look at her watch or the fuel gauges. She just wanted to look at her Sean and at the Pennsylvania landscape beneath them, small cities and towns, tens of thousands of innocents alive down there, and here she was, with the unintended and unwanted power to sicken and kill them all. Sean was doing all right, though his hands trembled some and it looked like his eyes were filling up. She took a deep breath as her earphones came alive.
‘Carrie — I think we’re all set,’ Bocks said.
‘Thank you, General… and one more thing.’
‘What’s that?’
Carrie said, ‘Thanks for hiring me, when I got out of the Navy. I had… had some troubles, before I left. Some thought I wasn’t tough enough or hard enough to be a pilot. But you took a chance on me. Thank you.’
Bocks said, ‘No, thank you, Carrie. Thanks for everything… and I need to ask you something, if you will.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘I… I…’ It seemed like the poor guy’s voice was breaking up, and then he went on. ‘I was responsible for putting those canisters in your air-conditioning system. I thought I was taking part in a confidential emergency immunization program — those canisters were supposed to be carrying anthrax vaccine, not anthrax spores. It was my call, my decision to install those canisters — and for that… I ask you for your forgiveness…’
Sean said ‘Fuck. Fuck me, so that’s how it happened… shit…’
Carrie said, ‘General, consider yourself forgiven. It’s all a moot point now… all right? Were you able… were you able to—’
‘Yes, Carrie. Hold on…’
She reached over, took Sean’s hand, squeezed it hard. A man’s voice came over the headphones, a strong, deep voice, and she squeezed Sean’s hand as he started. ‘Carrie…Sean… my name is Grayson Carter. I’m a minister with the Fourth Avenue Baptist Church — are you ready?’
‘Yes, reverend, we’re ready,’ Carrie said, as Sean squeezed her hand back.
‘Very good,’ he said. ‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in troubled times, under the eyes of God, to perform sacred matrimony upon your servants, Carrie Ann Floyd and Sean Barnes Callaghan…’
By now the broadcasts between AirBox 107 and the company’s Operations Center had been monitored by the news media. So it was that millions of Americans, most of them frightened, others angry, some stuck in cars and SUVs attempting to flee major cities, others in basements or sealed rooms in their homes, listened as a pilot and a co-pilot shared their wedding vows.
‘I, Carrie Ann Floyd, do take thee, Sean Barnes Callaghan…’
‘I, Sean Barnes Callaghan, do take thee, Carrie Ann Floyd…’
‘…for better or worse…’
‘…in sickness and in health…’
‘…til death do us part…’
And most were amazed that the last phrase was proclaimed with such strength, conviction, and obvious love.
Bocks stood there, hands folded in front of him, in the nearly silent Operations Center. Several times he wiped at his eyes as the familiar refrains were uttered, and he looked to his people, his AirBox staff, and realized that there was not a dry eye to be seen. Save for Grayson Carter, his maintenance worker and minister, who was keeping it under control as he performed God’s work this late morning.
Grayson’s voice rose at the end, saying, ‘And by the power vested in me, through God and the State of Tennessee, I now pronounce you man and wife. Praise the Lord.’
And faintly, through the speakers, both Carrie and Sean repeated the phrase.
‘Praise the Lord.’
Carrie tried to keep a smile on her face as she looked to her husband. ‘What? You’re not going to kiss the bride?’
Tears were streaming down the cheeks of her strong man and he bent over, kissed her softly and quickly on her lips, and she kissed him back, still holding his hand. ‘Carrie…God, I wanted so much for us… I wanted…’
She kissed him again. ‘Shhh… my love, it’s almost over. We’re…we’re going together. You and me. I love you so.’
‘And I love you, too
She turned to the windscreen, saw something out there on the horizon, and a sort of peace came over her. There. That would work.
‘My love… that’s a lake over there, isn’t it?’
Sean glanced at a chart. ‘Yeah — Lake Douglas.’
‘Okay. That’s where we’re going…’
‘Carrie — it’s not wide enough.’
She said, ‘Width isn’t what counts,’ and she explained to him what was going to happen, and all he could do was nod in agreement.
Bock’s Operations Manager said, ‘General?’
‘Yes, Pam.’
‘AirBox one-oh-seven wants you again.’
‘All right.’
He picked up a headset, placed it over his head, no longer seeing anything around him. It was a blur now, just a gray blur. ‘Carrie, this is Bocks, go ahead.’
‘General… I don’t know if you can do this for us…but we know we have company up here. Two F-16s. Have them pull away. All right? We’re… we’re going to do this right… you don’t have to worry about a thing…’
‘Carrie, I don’t know if I—’
‘Sir, we don’t have time to argue. Pull them away. We figure if we go down because of those F-16s lots of innocents can still die. We’ve got a better way.’
‘Carrie, I’ll—’
‘AirBox one-oh-seven, out.’
Monty was now at Bocks’s side. The General said, ‘Did you hear that?’
‘Yeah, I did.’
‘Call off those planes. Now.’
‘General, I can’t see how—’
‘Just try, all right? Just try, damn it.’
Monty said, ‘You got that.’
Lieutenant General McKenna of Northern Command listened to the man in Memphis, said very little, and hung up the phone. He waited just a few seconds, long seconds during which he knew that he was being asked the impossible. Procedures and plans and operations took precedence over everything, and he was being asked to toss it all aside.
Over the promise of a woman he had never met.
A woman who… God, what she had ahead of her…
‘Sir?’
His adjutant, Colonel Anson, stood in front of him. She looked at him expectantly.
He clenched his fists, released them. ‘Colonel, contact the two F-16s escorting AirBox 107.’
‘Sir.’
‘Tell them… tell them…’