Penny Gillespie smiled. “Private, if this tape really has on it what you say it has, I’d say your life matters a whole lot. Come on inside here with me.”
Delroy watched the reporter and the young private enter the provost marshal’s office. A boy getting raptured by God’s own hand. That would be a sight to see.
And in that moment, the sermon he knew he had to deliver started to fall together in his mind.
A knock sounded on the door. When Delroy turned to look, he saw George, the old man who had given him a ride to the cemetery, standing there.
“’Member me?” George asked.
Delroy stood and took the old man’s hand. “Aye. Of course I do. What brings you here?”
George grinned. “That bell. What else? Been a lotta years since I heard that bell ring. Never figured on hearin’ it again in my lifetime; I’ll guarantee you that.” He wiped his mouth with a calloused hand. “When your daddy shepherded this church, I never come in here. But I figured if you was gonna be here today, I was gonna come.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I brung some company too.”
Delroy poked his head out the door and glanced down the hallway. Six other old men stood there, each of them clutching an instrument case.
“Gentlemen,” Delroy greeted.
“Pastor,” they greeted.
“Chaplain,” George said. “I done told y’all he’s a chaplain. A navy man.” He looked back at Delroy. “This here’s one of the finest blues bands in the state.”
“Blues,” Delroy repeated.
“Yes, sir,” George said. “But don’t worry. They play gospel just fine. Gospel ain’t nothin’ but blues what’s got more hope. Same problems, just a little light at the end of the tunnel. I brung ‘em here ‘cause I figured you cain’t have a revival without some good ol’ gospel music.”
“A revival?”
“That’s what we done been tole.”
“A revival.” Delroy said it again, and the idea started to feel right. He looked at George, then at the men. “You want to play? Here?”
“Yes, sir. If’n y’all’ll have us.”
Delroy grinned and shook his head. “I’ll have you.”
“Thank you, Chaplain. You won’t regret it. We’ll do you proud.”
“I’m sure you will.”
“You gonna be along soon?”
“Aye.”
“Well, we’ll go an’ warm ‘em up for you.” George turned and walked back down the hallway. His hand drifted up to his bib overalls for his cigarette pouch.
“George.”
Turning, George said, “Yes, Chaplain.”
“There’s no smoking in this church,” Delroy said. “There was no smoking allowed back in my daddy’s day, and there won’t be any today.”
“Yes, sir. Been meanin’ to give ‘em up anyway.” George waved and went on his way, the band falling in behind him.
Delroy grinned, feeling better about everything. The thing that still bothered him was Glenda’s absence. He wished with all his might that she were here. He went back to the small office and knelt on the floor the way he had seen his daddy do so many times before. He held his daddy’s Bible in both hands, closed his eyes, and prayed.
“God, I’m going to need You with me now. Please make me strong enough to make a difference. And, Daddy, keep an eye on me and help me to make you proud. Amen.” Then Delroy pushed himself up and went to face his congregation, hoping he had the message they needed to hear. Hoping it was one he needed to hear.
16
Operation Run Dry
26 Klicks South-Southwest of Sanliurfa, Turkey
Local Time 2116 Hours
Dressed in black, his head covered by a watch cap and his face striped in black-and-green camo, Goose waited patiently atop the ridgeline over the line of warehouse-like structures across from the open pit where the Syrians had stored their forward fuel reserves. His nightvision goggles lifted the darkness from the surrounding area and turned the Syrian guards green.
Forty or fifty years ago, the buildings had housed archeological teams that had come to the nameless city and poked around in its remains for some forgotten prize that relic hunters and scavengers hadn’t already made off with. They’d left the buildings behind. If the archeologists had found anything, Remington hadn’t mentioned it in his brief. Goose reflected that it was interesting archeologists could leave things behind that would eventually be studied by other archeologists.
On the computer map, the target site where the fuel was kept was designated Ruins and the buildings were designated Buildings. The armored cav area was labeled Armored Cav. The Ranger captain liked keeping things simple. Complicating them for no reason tended to make missions run ragged in timing and in effective use of manpower.
Goose preferred his hit-and-git missions the same way. Down and dirty, quick in and quick out. That was why he and Remington had performed so well together as sergeants and now as captain and first sergeant. They knew each other, and they knew how to be the very best Rangers. When the time came, they could both be vicious and merciless against their enemies.
Back in the Revolutionary War, when Major Robert Rogers had first put together the rules that became his Standing Orders, Rogers had made it clear that the enemy should be taken advantage of. They weren’t to be fought fairly. They were to be encountered and put down as quickly as possible, with as little loss to a Ranger as possible.
“Let the enemy come ‘til he’s almost close enough to touch. Then let him have it and jump out and finish him with your hatchet.” Those SOs were grim and ruthless, but
