John O'Brien - Return

I speak about my experience in Bosnia, Iraq, Korea, and various parts of Africa. Lynn outlines her experience in Afghanistan and Iraq. Bannerman doesn’t have any combat leadership so outlines the schools and training he has. After everyone has had the chance to say something, I find some paper to tear up for everyone to write their votes on and grab my helmet from the cockpit to put them in.

The mood is tense as I hand the helmet to Lynn to count the votes. She takes a piece of paper out and makes a tally mark on a notepad. Necks strain to see the marks and where the vote is leaning. After all, with everything that we have all gone through in the past few days, there is a lot of interest in where the next few days will head, and who will lead them.

Finishing with the last scrap, Lynn stands from the bunk she had been sitting at. “Okay, listen up everyone. Jack has 12 votes, I have 9, Major Bannerman has 4 and,” she pauses momentarily and a smile forms, “Brianna has 2.”

Several chuckles develop throughout the group as some of the tension ebbs. She has always had a knack for breaking unease like that , I think smiling.

“Okay, everyone comfortable with that?” I ask.

Heads nod in the group and, glancing over at Bannerman, I see a slight relaxation in him as if relieved of a burden. “Oh, and I’m a little worried about the other one who voted for Brianna. Stay away from my daughter,” I add only half joking.

More smiles beam out. “Sergeant Connell, you’ll be the First Sergeant. Break everyone down into teams of six and determine your team leaders. Major Bannerman, I want you to help with the logistics end if you don’t mind. There’s going to be a lot we need to get done.”

“That’s fine with me but what will we call you?” Bannerman asks. “I mean, we can’t very well call you Captain and have you leading if I’m a Major reporting to you.”

“How about Jack for now and we’ll sort it out later.”

“Are you going to lead one of the teams, sir?” Lynn asks.

I see right away this is going to be tricky at times. We’ll just have to keep the professionalism when dealing with group and team matters. Hopefully I can remember to do this and not give her a big hug and kiss in front of formation. The image of this in my mind brings first a smile and then a chuckle.

“Yes, First Sergeant, give me one of the teams. Leave my kids off. If they go out, they’ll go with me. I’m going to head back up and see if I can guide this thing to Lajes.”

“Okay, sir.”

“Okay folks, the overall plan is to get back to McChord and find a place to fortify as a sanctuary. We’ll stop for fuel in the Azores and then head to the CDC in Atlanta. I want to find out whatever information we can about the creatures we are dealing with. From there, it’s a straight hop back home. We’ll brief more on the ground. Any questions or concerns?” I ask.

“Okay, carry on,” I say seeing no one respond.

“Yes, sir,” the group responds in chorus.

I grab a headset with an extended cord and show Lynn the multiple locations to plug into the intercom before turning to the cockpit. “Oh, one more thing,” I add addressing her. “There may be a very upset General at Lajes when we arrive there.”

“What in the world did you do?” Lynn asks.

“You seem to have a knack for that,” Bannerman, having overheard, chimes in drily.

See, I kind of left off the final dialogue with General Collins while we were sharing stories. “I’ll, uh, fill you in later.”

Lynn gives me one of her looks. A look that says she knows basically what took place by my adding that terse statement at the end and walking away while giving a vague response back. It is one of those “You did it again, didn’t you?” looks. See, she knows my capacity and ability to have very wide boundaries while still keeping to a moral structure. She told me once she thought it was from my time with the ground teams when I had to be flexible and think quickly on my feet while still conforming to the mission and its guidelines. I told her I thought it was from the ever-decreasing number of active brain cells in my head. That they were no longer a cohesive unit functioning as one but rather a bunch of isolated pockets that bumped into each other once in a while and formed a thought. The resulting thought was not always a sane or coherent one. Or a safe one for that matter.

Strapping into my seat once again, I take a moment to look the instruments over before plugging into the intercom. I glance over at Robert and Bri. The guilty look on their faces says it all. “Hi Lynn,” I say into the mic.

“How’d you know I was on the intercom?” She responds.

“The guilty looks I’m getting up here pretty much told me. Plus, the absolute silence. You know, the silence like when you enter a room where everyone was talking about you. I also figured you’d be on wanting to know what happened.”

“You didn’t tell them did you?” Robert asks, referring to our Lajes departure conversation.

“No, I kind of left that part out,” I answer and fill Lynn in on the details adding that it ended well but the general may be mighty upset about having been disobeyed. Generals tend to get that way.

We continue to chase the sun, both of us on our westward journey but to different destinations. It is moving a little faster than us and will set down on its journey to the horizon much sooner than when we will set down on our journey to the Azores. I double check our fuel and make sure we are set at our best range cruise speed. The one that will give us the best bang for the buck. Or, put in better terms, will give us the most distance for the fuel burned. I’m exhausted and my mind ventures over to fuel and how things were not that long ago. Not only will the trees and air have a chance at recovering from our influence on them, but gas prices have plummeted. Way down from the four dollars per gallon they had just climbed to. The experts claimed that crises across the world caused the dramatic increases in cost. I guess they were right up to a point. This crisis drove the price substantially down. Although really, the price of free gas was a costly one , I think refocusing my mind on the flight.

The shores of North Africa and Europe are coming together ahead, signaling the end of the Mediterranean and the beginning of the vast Atlantic. The sun begins its descent below the horizon, filling the sky with oranges, reds, and pinks, delivering its goodbye in splendor. Silence has claimed the aircraft as we all rest wrapped in our own thoughts, trying to grasp the reality of what has happened and what the future holds.

“Lynn, are you still on?” I ask over the intercom.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” she answers in a tired voice. “Just laying here.”

“Just letting you know we should be in Lajes in about three hours if you could let everyone know. And get some rest. I’m not sure what kind of reception to expect. We’ll get everyone together and brief in two hours.”

“Sounds good. How did you ever manage to stay sane on these long flights?” She asks.

“Nintendo and a good selection of games,” I reply. “Oh, and books. Now you know why insanity and I get along so well. There’s a bunk up here that may be a bit quieter if you want to use it instead.”

“Normally I’d send someone else up to use it but I’m flat out beat,” Lynn says before I hear the click of her disconnecting the intercom.

I look back to see her climb the stairs and give her a smile as the last glow of the setting sun reflects off her. She flops down on the lower bunk and pulls the thin, flimsy cover over her. She tries to adjust the too small pillow for comfort before giving up entirely.

“I thought you were going to beat that pillow into submission for a sec,” I shout over to her.