"POP!" A young girl ran to Shepherd and threw her arms around him. To Trevor's surprise, Shepherd knelt and returned the hug with equal vigor.
"Denise? Now what in the name are you doing here?"
"Where’s my mom, Mr. Shepherd? What happened to her?"
Shepherd's mouth worked but said nothing, no doubt searching for a comforting lie but Denise cut him off at the pass: "I know she's missing. What happened to her, Pop?"
"How the heck did you get here?"
"By train and hitchhiked on convoys the rest of the way. Is it true? Is my mom missing?"
Trevor did not exist in the world where the conversation took place yet he managed to intrude as he gasped, "Your mother?"
Denise did not appreciate the distraction from this stranger. She glared at Trevor with sharp eyes and shot, "Yeah, my mother. Is that a problem?"
"Um," Shep coughed. "Denise, let's head somewhere a heap warmer and talk it over."
Trevor trailed along in a zombie-like state absorbing the thought of Nina having a daughter as Jerry led them to the mess tent where they met Reverend Johnny.
With breakfast long over, the mess felt deserted. Nonetheless, Reverend Johnny found a cup of hot chocolate-from very old mix-for Denise and pseudo-coffee for the three men.
Between the drinks and a coal-burning stove the room offered just enough heat to allow them to strip off one layer of outerwear.
As soon as their butts hit the wooden bench of a picnic table Denise blurted, "Where is my mother, Pop? What happened to her? Is she…is she dead?"
"The truth is we don’t know what happened to your mom. Hell, she’s probably camped out roasting marshmallows with a broken radio, for all we know."
Trevor and the Reverend remained outside the loop; Denise only had eyes for Shepherd.
"But you haven’t heard from her. What was she doing? Where did she go?"
Johnny tried to help. "I fear we cannot go into detail about the nature of her mission."
"Hey, it’s my mom. I know she’s, like, Ms. Bigshot ‘round here. You don’t need to tell me that, Mister."
Shep coughed. "Denise, this is Reverend Johnny, he’s on the Imperial Council."
Despite her self-confidence, Denise’s face drooped into an ‘oh shit’ look.
"Um…oh…hi."
"Hello, Ms. Denise."
The girl grew more guarded. She turned to the other man and asked the obvious, "Are you a member of the council, too?"
Trevor could not resist a smug smile as he shook his head ‘no’.
"Oh that’s good," Denise sounded relieved as she tried to act nonchalant with a casual sip from her mug. "I’d hate to make an ass out of myself twice."
"Denise, this is Trevor Stone," Shepherd introduced. "The Emperor."
She paused mid-sip. Her eyes widened but remained locked on the hot chocolate.
"Hello, Denise. It’s nice to make your acquaintance."
Slowly…oh so very slowly…the young girl turned her head to the man sitting next to her.
"You…you are…I mean… you’re Mr. Stone?"
"Call me Trevor."
Denise put her mug down and hid her eyes in her hands. "I am such an idiot."
"Actually," Trevor said, "I’m very impressed. You came all the way here to find out what happened to Nina? Of course, I never knew she had a daughter." Stone threw his eyes at Shepherd, eyes saying why didn’t you tell me about this?
"Yes," Shep stumbled. " Captain Forest met Denise when she cleared Wilmington the summer before last. Denise here was an orphan and they hit it off. Isn’t that right, Denise?"
The girl kept her eyes hidden, mumbling only, "Oh brother."
"That’s great. I’m sure Nina is a great mother."
That grabbed Denise’s attention. She finally pulled her eyes from her hands.
"Mister Stone, sir, um, do you know where my mother is? Is she…is she alive, still?"
Trevor placed his hands on Denise’s shoulders. "I want you to listen carefully now, okay? I promise you, your mother is coming home."
Denise wanted to believe. "How…how can you promise that?"
"Because I’m going to bring her back."
– The black-painted Eagle airship flew low over rolling fields, the glint of brilliant moonlight lost in its dark surface.
Trevor sat in the pilot's seat gripping the control sticks sprouting from the arms of the chair. He wore bulky navigation goggles that generated a view and a sensation of actually being the craft; as if his eyes watched from the nose cone and his body traveled through the air.
Despite his concern for Nina, for the anxiety in facing unknown danger, and for the risk to the stability of The Empire in his being here, Trevor enjoyed himself. It felt good to fly an Eagle again.
His view included a heads-up display providing altimeter and radar readings that allowed him to hug-but not crash into-those rolling fields. Furthermore, when Omar Nehru humanized these captured alien shuttles he added 'Starlight' night vision for improved night flying.
Reverend Johnny could not fly an Eagle but he played the roll of navigator from the co-pilot's seat. Using a pen light in the darkened cockpit, he listened to Trevor call out landmarks and computed their course.
"I believe we are nearing the area of concern."
"You mean to say we’re reaching the L-Z? Can't sit in the big-boy chair, Rev if you're not going to use military-speak."
"I’m glad to see you are enjoying yourself," Johnny then punched the intercom button and announced to the passenger compartment, "We are approaching the…we are approaching the L-Z. Prepare for touchdown."
The Eagle rose and then descended like a rollercoaster as Trevor steered the ship into position above a half-mud, half-ice field. At that point he used floor pedals to slow forward motion, hovered, and then eased the vehicle to the ground where the landing struts bobbed once.
"Perfect," Stone complimented himself. "We've got about an hour until dawn."
"I hope the rest of our mission is as perfect," Johnny commented as the two men unbuckled their safety harnesses. "I assume we'll begin by snooping around?"
"No," Trevor removed the navigation goggles. "If I know Nina, she did the snoop and sneaky approach and ended up vanishing. I plan to be more direct."
– Trevor stayed true to his word. At first light, his eight-man, three-K9 team rushed the farm securing the disheveled and starving people living there without any resistance. He then sent three of the five Army Group North soldiers to search the outer perimeter while he remained at the farmhouse to interrogate the pitiful-looking prisoners.
After binding their hands with plastic ties, his team moved the twenty detainees into the living room where they sat in groups packed together on two sofas and the floor. Before Trevor asked his first question, he knew these people could not be responsible for the Dark Wolves' disappearance.
Based on the collection of ages-from elderly to teen agers with several in between-Trevor guessed them to be the leftovers of a couple of old-world families. Parents, grand parents, and children probably banded together when the invasion came and managed to eek out an existence on this farm. He had seen it enough times before.
"Okay, um, you stand up," Trevor pointed to a man with a white beard dressed in a torn green sweater and wearing a Cincinnati Bengals cap. Trevor guessed him to be mid fifties but his scrawny frame and hungry, sunken eyes might hide a younger man. "What is your name?"
"My name is Willis," came the answer but he would not look Trevor in the eye.
"We’re not your enemies, Willis. We’re human, just like you."