The Opposite of Need

Aftermath

"She deserved a hero's burial."

Tom threw a look sideways towards Michener. The President looked somber, but Chandler couldn't decide if POTUS' demeanor reflected his upset at the loss of Rachel Scott herself, or of Dr. Scott the scientist. Tom's jaw clenched for a moment before he responded. "Yes. She did."

"I know that you and she were very close."

Chandler nodded, his fingers tightening on the hat he still held. Close. Is that what they called it? This need he'd felt - this want that had seared his soul. He'd battled through his grief at losing Darien and come through on the other side to find Rachel there, filling a hole he'd figured would stay empty. But now - she was just gone. The chasm felt deeper than ever. Close. "She was an amazing woman."

The President hesitated, and Tom could feel his companion's eyes studying him. If anything else, Michener was a shrewd man, and a perceptive one - a fact evidenced even more so by his next words.

"I kind of got the impression that there was more to it than a mutual professional regard."

"No. There wasn't." He'd answered too quickly. Too strongly, probably, but that couldn't be helped. It had only been 36 hours, and he still wasn't quite in control. He was still processing the fact that they were standing over her grave.

The day was cloudless and bright - exactly wrong for a funeral. Around them, trees swayed in the too-cool breeze, their leaves rustling as the air tickled against them. Chandler still couldn't quite believe that such a place existed in the middle of a city as large as St. Louis. The hauntingly beautiful garden of tombs and headstones was interspersed with old-growth trees and what appeared to be Greek temples. It was like an outdoor museum, only the real pieces of art were all dead. Obviously, the cemetery had suffered in the plague. The grass hadn't been cut in months and the bushes had taken over the majority of the footpaths. Here and there, mounds of dirt had started to sprout grass and weeds. There hadn't been anyone left to finish burying the dead.

It was almost better that the wilderness seemed to seek to reclaim this place. Rachel would prefer wildness to freshly pruned shrubbery, anyway.

Someone at the hotel had taken care of finding a casket and the President himself had presided at her service. They'd buried her quickly - there hadn't been the time or the resources to do much more than prepare her body and find a suitable place for her. There had been talk of cremation, but Tom himself had balked at that. She deserved a memorial in this world-something people could visit once the Apocalypse was behind them. Some way to commemorate what she'd done for the human race. At the very least, she merited a grave. That was more than had been given to so many, many others. Darien included. If Chandler were to be honest with himself, that was part of his vehemence on the subject. He hadn't been able to do right by his wife - hadn't been able to lay her to rest - but he could give Rachel this much.

A local official had found a grave already half-way dug near a large oak tree at the cemetery just up the 70 from the Gateway Arch. But while Bellefontaine was beautiful and historic and serene, the fact that they were burying Rachel Scott anywhere at all cankered inside him. Anger and grief washed freshly over him, and he steeled himself against the pain.

His jaw hurt, and Tom realized he'd been clenching his teeth. Forcing himself to relax, he took a low, deep breath - deliberately exhaling when what he wanted to do was rail against the universe. When what he wanted to do was grab his civvies and a few dozen magazines, strap his weapon to his vest and head out on a hunt. He stilled, then worked up a blank expression."She and I went through a lot together. We were friends. Close friends."

Michener's eyes narrowed. He wasn't convinced. He raised his shoulder in a resigned half-shrug, turning away from the graveside they'd been facing. "Ah. Well. There's one thing to grasp hold of that should give us some comfort."

"What would that be, Sir?"

The President had already begun walking back towards the phalanx of SUVs that had brought them to Bellefontaine. "We still have her research."

"Yes." Tom paused, lifting his hand and placing his hat on his head with deliberate precision. Pivoting, he fell into step beside the Commander in Chief. "At least we have that."

They walked for around ten yards before Michener spoke again. "So, Tom."

"Yes, Sir?"

"You haven't given me a final answer to the offer I made you."

CNO. Chief of Naval Operations. He honestly hadn't really had time to think about it. "To be honest, Sir, I think that there might be someone else who is more qualified."

"Where? Who?" Michener paused, stopping out of earshot of the guards standing near the line of vehicles. "We haven't found anyone else who has the bearing, the credentials, or the experience to take on that job. We've got Kearns out of Fort Huachuca to take leadership over the Army. He was able to establish a safe zone there and save hundreds of soldiers and civilians. I made contact with a contingent of Air Force pilots who say that there's an enclave of leadership still operating in Colorado. We're still working on the Marines. For all intents and purposes, though, you're the only one that can do this. You're the most well-known face in the world. People trust you. You're the one we need out there playing ball with our allies and our enemies."

"I'm still not certain that I'm your man, Sir." Tom looked down at the ground, where his white shoes stood out in stark contrast to the green of the grass. "The Nathan James was only my second command opportunity. I'm fairly sure that doesn't equate to being elevated to the Chief of all Naval Operations."

"You're who I want." Stubborn. The President raised a brow. "The Nathan James will be in dry dock for a few months. The helo is being overhauled and upgraded. Your crew is being moved around, positions redefined, their abilities utilized in different ways. Why don't you use this time to sit in the chair for a while, so to speak. Try out the title and position and see how it fits."

Tom sighed. Glancing over towards the line of SUVs, he skimmed past the President's ride and requisite protection detail. A few cars behind Michener's was his assigned vehicle. Slightly older model, a little more well-used, Tom had chosen the Excursion himself from the cars that had been presented to him. Leaning against the passenger door were Wolf and Tex, their heads bent together in deep conversation. Burk and Green stood shoulder to shoulder near the back wheel well, the white of their uniforms reflecting brightly off the dark paint of the beast behind them. Nearly all the crew had come to the funeral service, but only these four had accompanied Tom to the graveside. They'd wanted to provide security - at least, that's what they'd maintained. Tom knew it was for more than that - they'd wanted to lend him some moral support.

That, and they wanted to know what his next move was. Men of action. Not a single one of those guys would rest until Rachel's killer was found. Though none of them had spoken a word since the conversation they'd had in the hallway, Tom knew as sure as he was still breathing that they were all ready - both physically and mentally - for the job ahead.

The President wanted an answer. Tom pressed his lips together into a tight line before giving him one. "Mr. President, I'll sit in that chair. But first, I'd like to ask a favor."

"Ask away."

"I haven't seen my children since leaving Norfolk. There's an enclave of safe houses in St. Louis City Center. I'd like to bring my family and the Tophets here, so that I can keep an eye on them."

"Of course. That's always been the plan, Tom."

"But I'd like to go get them." Chandler's gaze flickered again towards his men, his team. "I'll take a small contingent of my men and we'll go back to Norfolk over roads, rather than flying. Moving my family back myself will give me time to reconnect with my children. It'll be a week. Maybe two."

Michener paused, his expression deliberately bland. "Road trip, huh?"

"Truth be told, I could use a break. A road trip might be just what I need."

The President's mouth lifted slightly at one corner. "You know, I do have investigators trying to find the man who shot her."

"Excuse me?"

"Dr. Scott. We've already got a team of detectives out there looking for him. Following leads. I recognize that a man like that can't be let go. He needs to be brought to justice."

"Of course he does."

"This isn't the Wild West, Tom. I'm not about to let you saddle up your posse in search of a hanging tree."

Chandler kept his voice carefully mild. "I wouldn't dream of it, Sir."

For a long, long time, POTUS merely stood there, studying Tom's face. After what seemed like forever, he let out a long, ragged breath. "So, road trip?"

"To Norfolk. To get my kids and bring them back home."

"A week."

"Maybe two."

Michener sighed again. "I'll give you that time. I'll give you your team. I'll expect you back and ready to work as soon as possible."

"Yes, Sir."

Michener gave him a long, piercing look, then abruptly threw a truncated two-fingered salute in Chandler's direction before striding towards his Suburban. Just as one of his guards opened his door, he turned, pointing at the Captain. "Remember what I said, Tom. No posses. No hanging trees. Let's let justice be served in the right way."

Chandler nodded, his lips thin. "Yes, Sir."

As the SUV roared to life, Tom started towards his own ride, where four of the people he trusted most waited.

"What was the President saying about a posse?" Danny scratched absently at his jaw. Green had shaved for the occasion, but this late in the day, the blond stubble had started to itch.

"He has a team of investigators looking for the shooter."

"He's thinking they're going to arrest the little son of a bitch? Bring him to trial?" Tex scowled. "That's a load of crap."

"Michener's hoping to reestablish law and order."

"It'll take longer than a few weeks." Burk's brows rose. "In the meantime, we can't let this guy escape. Who knows who'll be next?"

"There are some people who just need to be taken out of the equation." This from Wolf, his face stern. "To my way of thinking, this bloke's one of them."

"I've asked Michener if I can take a team with me to Norfolk. I'd like to get Ashley and Sam and my father and move them back here. And Kelly Tophet and Ava, if they'd like to. If I'm going to be stationed here, I'd like my kids near."

Another of the Suburbans rumbled past them, kicking up dust from the side of the paved road. Tom waited until it was gone before continuing.

"I know that all of you have things you need to be doing. People you'd like to look for. Family. Friends. But I'd like you along with me on this mission."

"Mission?"

"The President said no posses. No hanging trees."

"Right." Tex's look glazed over with what could only be described as anticipation. "So?"

For the first time in two days, Tom felt himself smile. "He didn't say anything about Vulture Team or the business end of an AK-47."