He motioned me to come closer. When I did, Byron grabbed my hospital gown, surprising me with his strength. “Do you understand if you beat yourself up over this I will put you in this hospital … permanently?”
I nodded blankly.
He released his grip. “I’m glad we’re understood.”
“JP is going home today and going to start a farm,” Carter broke the tension with a laugh.
Byron smiled. “You won’t give up the life, JP. It’s not a job with you-it’s who you are.”
“The only way I’ll ever come back is if you’re my cameraman.”
“Deal,” Byron said with a determined stare.
We had learned never to doubt him.
It would still be weeks before he could leave Landstuhl, but preparations had already begun back in South Carolina. Without his knowledge, Carter and I had contracted to have his home in Charleston converted to the top- of-the-line in handicap accessibility. It would be ready upon his return. We figured that the technology lover would be like a kid on Christmas with all his new gadgets.
Byron mentioned that he couldn’t wait to get back home and eat the famous fried chicken from Mama Jasper’s, his mother’s restaurant. He was also looking forward to getting reacquainted with his longtime girlfriend, Tonya. Carter added that it sounded much more appealing than my plan of attending a farming fair.
We continued the visit until Byron’s team of camouflage-attired doctors descended upon his room like the 82nd Airborne, and ushered us out.
“Remember what I said, Warner,” Byron got in the last word.
After a final consultation with my doctor, Major Ellison, I was released from Landstuhl. None of the hospital staff seemed sad to see me go.
The media attacked me the moment I was outside the hospital. Carter played interference as I was escorted in a wheelchair in the soft rain. The media got nothing but ‘no-comments’ from me, and had to settle for a bicep flex from Carter.
We arrived at a C-141 Starlifter that would serve as my ride home. I took one last look at Landstuhl and noted, “What a long strange trip it’s been.”
“The Grateful Dead?” Carter inquired.
I smiled. “No, grateful to be alive.”
Part Two
Chapter 16
He stood outside the small home in Glendale and wiped the sweat from his brow. He told himself it was from the oven-like Arizona night, but for the first time in a long time he felt apprehensive. The voice had been loud and clear, telling him to come here and finish the business between them, but now doubt was creeping in.
He hadn’t been back to Arizona since he moved away. And it was even longer since he’d seen Lucy. She was hesitant at first-unsure about meeting her old boyfriend while her husband was away-and she should have listened to that first instinct. If she thought she would just be able to walk away, without him without any repercussions for her for her actions, then she underestimated him once again.
He looked through the window beside the front door, and saw Lucy scurrying around her kitchen, getting ready for their “date.” She appeared much the same with her long dark curls and smooth olive skin. She wore the pink sundress, which had always been Kyle’s favorite-it looked like she was more excited to see her old flame than she’d let on in their correspondence, he thought.
Wearing latex gloves, he reached into the inside pocket of his sweat-stained blazer and pulled out his Glock, before ringing the bell. When she opened the door, he would take in the immense surprise on her face, and an understanding of what was about to happen, and why, all in a split second. Then he would shoot her right in that sharp tongue that she used to belittle him with.
He gripped the gun as the door swung open. But nobody was there. Then a voice rose up from below, “Are you Kyle? My mom said to tell you she’d be with you in just a minute.”
He looked down to see a little girl-a miniature version of Lucy with the same dark curls. He hadn’t counted on this. An image of his parents flashed in his mind, followed by the same pain he felt when he lost them. He now understood the source of his apprehension. He misread the voice. He couldn’t allow this girl to grow up with that pain.
“I’m sorry, I have the wrong house,” he replied in a low voice, and ran as fast as he could up the street, until he reached his rental car.
He drove directly to the airport and boarded the next flight home. He had no fear of being traced-he was using the identity of Grady Benson, who had been Kyle Jones’ old Air Force wingman.
He picked up an extra shift on Saturday night. His presence was welcome, due to so many officers being assigned to work the Rockfield Fair during the Labor Day weekend. While on patrol, he tried to make sense of his failed journey. His missions had always been so clear, and brought such a feeling of peace, that this was uncharted territory for him. But he still felt a strong call-to-action hanging over him. Completing his business with Lucy on this anniversary had made sense, but now for the first time since his journey began, he felt unsure.
But later that night, he received a radio message about an accident on the Samerauk Bridge. When he arrived at the scene, he found that it was no accident. And later, in the hospital, as he comforted the mother of the murdered girl, his mission again became clear.
Chapter 17
The military plane scraped its wheels on the runway, landing me on home soil. A short time later, I stepped onto the tarmac, breathing in the crisp dawn air. I thought of performing the freed-hostage ritual of kissing the ground upon my return, but while that would be right up the attention-grabbing alley of J-News, it was JP who was the one who’d just returned from the European vacation from hell.
I struggled to walk with my cane, which besides a few cuts and bruises was the only visible evidence that I was any the worse for wear. I was met with a relieved smile and hug from my father, Peter Warner. He was thinner than the last time I’d seen him, but still had the same stocky frame and roundish face. It was a look passed on to my brother Ethan, the opposite of the lanky, long-jawed look that my brother Noah and I inherited from my mother’s side.
While I can often be a polarizing repellent, my father’s natural instinct had always been to pull people together, and he thrived on being the leader. I thought of this as I watched him shake hands with all the military personnel like he was running for office. He did hold political office for twenty-five years as Rockfield’s First Selectman. He knew everybody in the town, and everyone knew Peter Warner. He stepped down two years ago when he was diagnosed with prostate cancer, which so far he’d treated like his political opponents-he’s winning in a
