Silence stretched out between them for a time. Goose shoved the pain to the back of his mind, but he didn’t know how much longer he could stand the drive.
Danielle said, “Maybe you’ve still got faith in your boss, but I’m losing faith in mine.”
Goose wondered at the word choice. Faith seemed like an awfully big word to throw around these days. Especially when you weren’t sure what you were supposed to have faith in.
“Goose.”
The voice echoed in Goose’s head and it was so familiar that he started and stared over his shoulder.
“Something wrong?” Danielle asked.
“No,” Goose answered automatically. “Thought I heard something.”
“I don’t see how you could hear anything over the noise this jeep makes.”
“I must not have.” But Goose was sure that he did.
“Street’s blocked,” the cameraman said. “You can’t go that way.”
Goose looked forward and saw that the statement was true. One of the cargo trucks had broken down in the intersection. A ruined tank occupied one of the side streets. Danielle turned left and crept by the sawhorses the military had put out.
“Goose.”
The voice sounded so uncannily like Bill Townsend’s that Goose’s nape prickled. Gotta be more out of it than I thought. Shoulda stayed in bed.
Only a couple of blocks later, Danielle approached a bridge stretching across the river that ran through the city.
“Stop.”
“Stop here.” Goose spoke before he knew he was going to.
Danielle braked the jeep to the side of the street and looked over at him. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know.” Goose searched the thinning darkness that clung to the riverbanks and couldn’t find anything that stood out. A few boats sailed sedately across the smooth surface. Judging from the amount of boxes and people aboard, a lot more of the citizens had finally decided to throw in the towel and abandon the city.
Goose stared at the river, following it with his gaze as it wound through Sanliurfa. Then, only a short distance off the road, down the gentle hillside, he spotted a group of Rangers lining the riverbank.
At first Goose thought they were part of a scouting expedition. But there were simply too many of them. Dozens of men sat along the riverbank with their weapons. One of them stood in the water and called out to another. The man walked down the hill and into the slow-moving river. When he reached the waiting man, they talked briefly; then the first man held the other, lowered him into the water, and brought him back up.
“They’re baptizing,” Danielle said. “Gary, get the camera on them.”
“No, ma’am,” Goose said, turning to her. “This is a private ceremony.”
Danielle’s gaze met his without flinching. “This is important.”
“If Captain Remington finds out this is going on, he’ll likely put a stop to it.” Goose didn’t have any doubts about that.
“Are you planning on not reporting them?”
Goose didn’t speak.
“Isn’t that a declaration of some sort about your loyalties?” Danielle pressed.
The question troubled Goose. He tried to find an answer.
“Goose.”
The nape of Goose’s neck prickled again. “My loyalties are to those men.”
“Even if what they’re doing flies in the face of what Remington wants?”
Goose watched the men. He was torn over the issue, but there was something greater at stake. He was certain of that now.
“If you’ll excuse me, ma’am, there’s something I gotta go do.” Goose swung his legs out of the jeep and set the crutches on the ground. His knee throbbed painfully, and his other leg almost buckled underneath him on the uneven ground.
“Goose.” Danielle ran up to him. “Let me help.”
“No, ma’am. I appreciate it, but this is something I gotta do on my own.” Slowly, with great difficulty, Goose made his way down the hillside to the gentle river.
The men caught sight of him and stopped what they were doing. Fear showed on their faces.
46
Downtown Sanliurfa
Sanliurfa Province, Turkey
Local Time 0517 Hours
“First Sergeant,” one of the young men said.
Goose looked around at them. “You boys on your own time?”
“Supposed to take our downtime as we can, First Sergeant.”
“Well then, carry on.” Goose waited, not knowing for certain what had drawn him down the hillside. Looking up it, he felt stupid. There was no way he was going up that hillside under his own power. Coming down had all but exhausted him. You’re gonna feel mighty foolish having to ask for help getting back up there.
“Have faith.”
That was Bill Townsend’s voice again. Goose was sure of it. He looked at the river and thought about Chris. Heaven has to exist, Goose told himself. There’s no other place my boy would be. Before he knew it, tears ran down his cheeks. Chris, I’m sorry I didn’t go with you. But I just didn’t know where I was going wrong then. I didn’t know that faith had to be that strong in you.
“You do now,” that familiar voice whispered. “ So what are you going to do about it, Sarge?”
Carefully Goose let the crutches fall from his hands. He was conscious of everyone’s eyes on him as he limped through the mud. The pain rushed at him, stronger than ever, and he didn’t know if he was going to give in to it or pass out from it first.
Instead, he did just what the military trained him to do. He kept putting one foot after another into the water. He walked until the river closed over his head, filled his ears, and drowned out all other noise. The river took his weight and buoyed him up, lifting some of the pain from him.
For a time, Goose hung there, afraid at any minute that one of the Rangers would come after him because they thought he might be trying to drown himself. Instead, Goose drank in the peace that he felt. It was like nothing he’d ever before experienced.
“It can be better.”
Goose believed that voice. More than that, he believed for certain that he knew where Chris was.
And most of all-he believed.
He let that belief wash over him, buoying him up even more. The pain receded, and he wasn’t at all surprised. He reached for the warmth and security that he knew would be there.
God, I’m at that point where there’s nothing left. The tears came then and he felt them slide hotly from his eyes despite the river’s embrace. I’m away from Megan and Joey. Chris is gone, though I guess he’s with You now. Please take care of him. Tell him I love him. He paused, trying to assemble his thoughts. I can’t walk, God. My knee is shot. Whatever was there, it’s gone now. I’m not even a soldier.
Bill always said You have a plan for everybody. He said You see every sparrow that falls. Well, God, I’ve fallen. I’m here, and I can’t even stand on my own two feet. The helplessness that filled Goose was almost overwhelming. If Bill was right, if I couldn’t come to You until there was nowhere else to go, then I’m here.
I’m just an old, broken-down soldier, God. Not much use to anybody. But I love my family, and I love my unit. It hurts me to think that I’m not going to be there for them.
But I’m not ready to give in, God. I’m not ready to stop fighting for them. I’ll crawl to the front line if I have to. Just give me the strength to do it. Please. Goose paused again. I don’t know if You can find a use for me, but if there’s something I can do for You, help me do it. Please. I pray in Jesus’ blessed name.
