“No. No. No.”
CNN continued to repeat the information, speculating now as to the number of dead and the cost of the destruction. It was Sonny Free, the Albrights’ longtime caretaker of Driftwood Key and family friend, who turned down the volume. Hearing the news multiple times was like being bludgeoned with the same sledgehammer. It was already painful. There was no need to continue inflicting the misery.
Mike and Sonny helped Hank sit upright. Phoebe and Jessica knelt down in front of him. Sometimes, a man suffering an excruciating loss can only be comforted by his mom, or the closest thing to her.
Sonny handed his wife, Phoebe, a bottle of water and a clean bar towel. Hank was suddenly cold and sweaty. His eyes, drenched with tears, darted around the room as his mind tried to process the immense sadness he was feeling. Mike’s wife, Jessica, a trained paramedic, noticed the likely symptoms of shock. As Phoebe lovingly patted his forehead and neck, Jessica whispered in his ear and comforted him with a familiar voice.
After a couple of minutes, Hank had recovered enough to recognize where he was and what was happening around him. His eyes sought out his younger brother. Growing up, he’d always been the one to take care of Mike. As Mike matured to become a homicide detective, Hank found himself drawing strength from the younger man.
There was a time after Hank’s wife passed when he was having difficulty coping. Mike was more than his rock. He was a pillar of granite to lean on. In this moment, he sought Mike out again.
Hank spoke softly and slowly, his words separated by sniffles. “Mike, this can’t be happening.”
His brother reached out his right hand, and Hank grasped it, the two men locking them together to become one. Mike pulled Hank to his feet. He took a deep breath and looked his brother in the eye. Then Mike gently patted his brother on the chest.
“What does your heart say, Hank?”
Hank couldn’t respond as the tears flowed again. Mike leaned down and tilted his head so he was eye to eye with his brother. He gently placed his hand on Hank’s cheek.
“Listen to me. Forget what you saw on TV. What does your heart say? Does your heart tell you that they’re gone? Does it?”
Tears flowed out of Hank’s eyes as he locked them in a stare with Mike’s. He began to blink rapidly. He shook his head side to side and whispered, “No.”
Mike allowed a slight smile as he placed his right hand over Hank’s heart again. He, too, was crying, and he didn’t try to stifle his emotions. He continued. “Hank, they’re not gone. God would not take them from us. They’re not gone. I’m as sure of that as I am anything else.”
Hank laughed nervously, wiping his tears off his face. “You’re right. I’m such an idiot. We’re talking about Peter and Lacey here.”
Now Mike and the others joined in laughing as they allowed their tears to flow at the same time. It was spontaneous. Natural. From the heart.
“Nine lives,” muttered Phoebe as she moved in to hug Hank.
“Well, eight for Peter,” said Jimmy Free with a chuckle. He and Peter were like brothers, having grown up together on Driftwood Key, although Jimmy was several years younger. “Remember the time I pulled him up from diving? We had to buddy-breathe the last sixty feet because he ran out of oxygen.”
“What? When was that?” Hank was genuinely confused. “I never heard about this.”
“Oh, shoot. I thought he told you.”
“No, and besides, it’s seven now. He used one or two up in Abu Dhabi.”
Mike started laughing. Now the tears had dissipated, and everyone was coping through their loving recollections of the lives of their family.
“Listen. If Peter can get himself out of that pickle with car bombs and crazed terrorists firing automatic weapons everywhere, he can dodge a freakin’ nuclear bomb.”
This brought a roar of laughter from the group. Hank was recovering from his emotional devastation.
“Don’t forget, Mr. Hank,” began Sonny. “Lacey is a survivalist. You could throw her in the woods with nothing but the clothes on her back and she’d come out of there just fine. Tucker has that survival mentality, too.”
“And Owen?” asked Jessica.
Hank responded to that one. “My son-in-law fights his battles against the tech giants. He’ll be fine.”
Mike patted Hank on the outside of his shoulders with both hands. Then the two men hugged.
“See, now tell me. What does your heart say to you?”
Hank was now beaming with a smile that evaporated the tears. “It tells me we’d better get the guest rooms ready. I don’t know when they’ll get here. But I know they will.”
Chapter Six
Friday, October 25
Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center
Northern Virginia
“We didn’t start this shit!” President Carter Helton shouted as he wandered through the operations center deep in the underground bunker at Mount Weather located in Northern Virginia. He was sweating profusely. He’d lost all sense of decorum expected of presidents. His jacket had been slung in a chair, his tie was removed, and his sweat-soaked shirt was only partially tucked.
The president was accurate in his statement that the United States did not fire the first shot that led to nuclear Armageddon. It was the Iranian government that opened up the floodgates by sending nuclear ballistic missiles into Tel Aviv, Israel. Naturally, the Israelis returned the favor, and the result was the near total destruction of Tehran.
After that, the house of cards known as MAD, the deterrent based upon mutually assured destruction, fell apart.
However, it was not necessarily the launching of the nuclear missiles that ultimately drew the U.S. into its own fight for survival. Many argued at the time of the Iranian-Israeli exchange that the president should defend America’s staunchest ally. President Helton remained out of the fight, allowing Israel to fend for themselves.
This was seen as a sign of weakness
