Don Brown: The Malacca Conspiracy

“We are gathered here in the presence of Almighty God to join these two, Diane Jefferson Colcernian and Zachary Mitchell Brewer, in holy matrimony…”

The rest was a blurry dream that she would never fully remember, until she heard the final words, “You may kiss the bride!”

At that point the details would never fade from her memory. Zack’s powerful kiss was long and electric, even better than a few moments earlier. What a remedy for the stream of tears!

They turned away and saw that the SEALs had formed two long lines, stretching at least fifty feet into the Rose Garden.

“SEALs!…Draw!…Swords!”

In a swift and synchronized motion, the SEALs drew their stainless-steel swords into an archway, clinking as they touched and glistened brightly in the sun. Diane took her husband’s arm and followed his lead into the arch of swords.

The applause was enthusiastic as they stepped slowly under the sharp blades of shining steel.

This was a walk she never wanted to end. If only her father could see her now.

As they approached the end of the arch of swords, she saw photographers pointing their cameras into the archway and snapping away.

Zack slowed their pace, just before they stepped out the other end. Cameras whizzed and flashed at the end of the tunnel.

Then she remembered. She was about to become the victim of a time-honored naval tradition.

She winced.

As they stepped out of the archway, one of the swordsmen brought his sword down and swiftly popped her on the rump with his blade.

“Ouch!”

“Welcome to the navy, Mrs. Brewer!”