The trio placed Craig in his grave with tenderness before taking their places.
Ern cleared his throat and started, “Dear friends, family members... clansmen — for that was what Craig strived for us to be.
“We are gathered here to put our leader to rest. A man who willingly sacrificed all for the rest of us. We owe him more than we can say. Craig Van Gilze was a tremendous man. A born leader. He stepped up when we needed him. Those who have something to say about Craig — or to Craig —, do so now, before we return him into the embrace of the earth.”
Kind words followed, and lots of praise. Some people cried. Jack hardly registered any of it. He was ashamed when later he could not even recall what his mom had said. He remembered his own words well enough, however.
Jack faced the group. He looked down at the shrouded figure in the grave and imagined his father. He looked back up at expectant faces.
“I don’t have a lot to say ... I don’t know what to say.”
He swallowed and glanced from face to face. He saw the gentle support in Nancy’s eyes, the far-away sadness in Claire’s, and a hint of anger in John’s. Then his eyes met Nat’s. She looked sad, but in a different way. Jack intuitively knew what was meant by that look.
She was sad, but for him.
Somehow, that gave him strength.
“I know that most of you have suffered losses. But even though I saw you grieve; I didn’t really know. ... until now, I guess.
“My dad was my best friend. And he was my hero. Now he’s gone. Forever. That’s the part that gets me. It’s over. I will never see him again. Never talk to him.”
“He always stood by my side. Do you remember a few days ago, when I had my stomach issue?” Jack looked at the group. Several people’s faces dropped in shame. “When we spent that night locked up together. He told me. ... He said that he would never abandon me.
“I was never the most popular kid, or the most accomplished student. But he always used to say”—Jack struggled for a moment—“He always told me that he was proud of me. ‘No matter what,’ he used to say.”
The tears flowed freely as Jack looked down at the grave once more.
“Dad. I hope that you know that I was always proud of you too...”
Chapter 26
Andrew
November 7, 11:30 A.M., Bell Harbor Marina, Port of Seattle.
Louis peered through the binoculars for a long time. Andrew stood beside him patiently, studying the man’s face as he waited. Louis Denoli, or “Lou,” as his friends called him, was not a handsome man.
Not even close.
The many pockmarks on his cheeks were poorly hidden by a thin, irregular beard. He had a beak-like nose, and his forehead seemed too small, with his hairline no more than a couple of inches from his eyebrows. He was tall and lanky, but had a small pot belly, which Andrew thought just looked plain weird. And he smelled. Of garlic. Seemed like Lou couldn’t get enough of the stuff.
He could be a real asshole, too. He was stubborn, and sometimes downright arrogant.
His eyes were probably his most impressive feature. He had very intense eyes. When Lou looked at you, you felt like he was looking at your very soul. People shrank away under his gaze.
Guess that’s why they made him Captain.
The thought slipped out before Andrew could correct himself. Lou, for all his faults, was an excellent strategist and leader of men. The guy knew what made people tick, and he knew how to motivate them.
And he has already proven that he knows how to keep us alive. There’s that, too.
He wasn’t a real Captain. At least, not an official Captain, vetted and sanctioned by Paladin Wallace — as all the other ones were.
No, Lou was a plumber. A plumber who had stepped up to the challenge of saving their little community. Their leadership — the ones that were still alive at the time — had appointed Lou on the spot and drafted twenty men from all walks of life into the rank of Shield.
Andrew was promoted to the rank of Sword after their first mission. That was also out of necessity. Another guy named Michael had originally been appointed as Sword. However, Sword Michael died very quickly in the next mission.
Painfully, too.
So here they were, a plumber turned Captain and an accountant turned Sword. Looking at what they hoped would serve as their new safe haven.
Lou lowered the binoculars, continuing to look in the same direction.
Thinking. Devising a plan.
He nodded to himself and turned his head to face Andrew.
Here comes the stare.
Sure enough, Lou studied Andrew for a while that felt longer than normal. He wasn’t sure if Lou was still thinking of his plan or dissecting Andrew’s soul. Andrew faced him in silence, trying not to be fazed. The clenching and unclenching of his jaw said otherwise.
Finally, the pregnant pause ended. Lou passed the binoculars to Andrew and moved aside. He beckoned for Andrew to take his spot at the small window.
“Take a look. Tell me what you see.”
Great. Andrew thought as he took the binoculars. A test.
Andrew looked through the binoculars, uncomfortably aware of the residual heat from Lou’s face on the device. Not to mention his Captain’s attention. The back of his head itched as he imagined Lou’s gaze boring little holes there.
“It’s dark. Could be uninhabited,” Andrew started.
“Good. But be more specific,” his Captain instructed him.
Andrew focused on what he was seeing and started spouting out everything he observed.
“It’s called ‘The Domburg.’ There are some lifeboats set into its side. I figure there are more on the other side. I see about six floors in total. I count about a
