“He’s doing fine.” Jake got up and inspected the bandage on Kyli’s neck. “Bentley’s down there with him now. I think they’re going back to Langley tonight. He got peppered with glass like I did, nothing major except the gash on his forehead. It’ll end his modeling career.”
Wiley chuckled. “The ladies might find that scar interesting.”
“Grandpa, what happened?” Kyli shifted on the bed. “I can’t turn my head. Why am I looking at the floor?”
“I’m right here, Kyli.” Wiley said. “They have your head and neck immobilized. A piece of glass penetrated your neck and the doctors don’t want you moving your head and pulling the wound open. You’ll have to lay face down all night.”
“What about Kates? Is she okay?”
“I’m fine.” Kates said. “But Paris turned out to be a pain in the ass, literally. I had a piece of glass lodged in my ass.”
“You got a piece of glass stuck in your ass? That’s too funny.” Kyli laughed. “Strangest thing. Right after the explosion I saw a man with a gun. He aimed it toward the blast and fired. I know it sounds crazy but I thought it was Jake.”
“Your mind does crazy things to you when you’re under stress.” Wiley said. “There’s a good reason for what you thought you saw.”
“I know, I know. But it seemed so real.”
“It was real.” Wiley said.
“I don’t understand.”
Jake interrupted. “I shot the second terrorist before he could detonate his vest.”
“Jake. Is that you?”
“In the flesh.”
“Come down here so I can see you.” Kyli said.
“You want me to get on the floor? Are you kidding me?” Jake asked.
“No, I’m not.” Kyli said. “Please.”
Jake sat down on the floor near the head of Kyli’s bed and slid sideways until he could see Kyli’s face. “Hi there.”
“Jake, you look like Al Pacino from Scarface.” Kyli said. “What happened?”
“The same thing that happened to your neck and your friend’s ass. Jake said. “You two were lucky today. Maybe next time you can remember to take your phone with you.”
There was a knock on the door. “Can we come in?” Bentley pushed the door open. Kaplan followed him into the room.
Bentley looked around the room. “I thought Jake was coming up here. I need to talk to him.”
“Right here, sir” Jake said.
“What are you doing on the floor?” Bentley asked.
“Talking to Kyli.”
“I need to talk to you, Jake.” Bentley paused. “Privately.”
Jake got off the floor. “I’ll be right back.” He said to Kyli. He walked toward Bentley. Bentley held the door open while Jake walked into the corridor.
“What is it, sir?”
Bentley motioned for them to walk. “You did a great job in Paris today and I’m proud of you and I know you’ll continue to impress Mr. Wiley.” Jake started to speak but Bentley continued. “I have some news for you, Jake and there’s no easy way to say it.”
Jake gave him a curious look.
“Jake. There’s been an accident. It’s your parents.”
CHAPTER 49
For the second time in six months, he was here again. This time he was adding two more graves, those of his parents. Six months ago, it was his fiancée, Beth. Much like then, it was a cool, dreary morning. The wet, recently mowed grass left a pungent smell in the air.
Beth was gone and now his parents. He began to understand the words Wiley said to him the day they met in El Paso. “You’re not special, Jake. We’re all touched by sadness in life.”
And, for the first time, he felt alone. He was an only child. His parents were only children. There were no aunts, no uncles, no cousins. And all the grandparents had been dead for years. With his parents gone, he was the last Pendleton.
When he’d talked to the fire marshal, no cause had been determined. The marshal suspected a gas leak in the kitchen but the damage had been so devastating that the cause of the fire might never be determined. According to the marshal, the heat produced from the inferno caused the exterior gas tank to explode, further compounding the fire departments efforts to contain the fire.
Jake scanned those in attendance noting his father had made some powerful friends during his days in the military and as a political appointee. Attending was CIA Director Scott Bentley, Former President Jimmy Carter, three United States Representatives, the Governor of Georgia, and two United States Senators. One of whom was the man who wanted Bentley to deliver his head on a platter, the Honorable Richard Boden, accompanied by his contingent of Secret Service protectors, and as usual, noticeably chewing gum.
Boden was a tall, thin man with thick gray hair. He used a cane and walked with a limp from a gunshot injury he’d sustained in the Vietnam War, a war that had earned him two Purple Hearts and the Congressional Medal of Honor. He’d taken three bullets in his right leg, two of them shattering his knee and destroying the joint. Even with the miracles of modern technology and an artificial knee, Boden still required the use of the cane.
Kyli sat next to Jake while the priest delivered the eulogy. Wiley sat on the other side of Kyli. Seated on Jake’s other side was a gaunt looking Isabella Hunt and Gregg Kaplan. Behind them were several rows filled with his parents’ friends and neighbors, all there to pay their last respects to a couple whom they’d known for many years.
In front of him were two caskets suspended in mid-air above the excavated burial pits where they would be lowered and covered with Georgia clay and dirt. An American flag was draped over his father’s casket, the man given a military funeral for his service to his country and as a public servant.
Beyond the caskets, as if segregated by some unseen force, sat the men of power and politics: Bentley, Carter, the Governor, and the five members of Congress. Behind them and arching around in a semi-circle back toward the caskets were the guns. Most were Secret Service. Some CIA. The rest were Georgia State Patrol. All conspicuously armed as if a turf war could break out any second in the historic old cemetery.
At the head of the gravesite stood seven Marines in full dress uniforms serving as Honor Guards.
The priest started the prayer. Jake lowered his head and closed his eyes. As the priest spoke, Jake felt Kyli’s warm hand move on top of his. Her touch was soothing, her compassion welcome. Kyli wore a conservative black dress, unlike her usual flamboyant style. According to Wiley, the doctors in Belgium had been overly precautious with Kyli and soon determined her wound not to be as serious as first suspected. She had a healthy glow on her face. The only indication of her injury was the bandage on the back of her neck.
With her other hand, Kyli grabbed his upper arm and leaned close to him. It had been a long time since he’d been close to a woman. He felt a need to be comforted, desperate to have someone care about his loss. His pain. It felt good, and he needed to feel something.
The prayer ended and so did the moment. Kyli sat up straight and removed her hands. He opened his eyes feeling guilty. The moment evaporated, but he wanted it back.
The priest motioned to Jake as previously discussed. He stepped forward and placed a rose on his mother’s casket. Two soldiers removed the flag from his father’s casket, folded it with military precision, and with gloved hands presented it to Jake. He glanced at Kyli, she was wiping tears from her face. Wiley had his arm around his granddaughter’s shoulder. Isabella Hunt had moved next to Kyli and held out another tissue. Gregg Kaplan kept his head bowed.