Chapter 10

Jillian sits on the couch beside Nessa, looking to her with a pleading expression. The scowl on Nessa's face seems to fade slightly, putting Jillian at ease. "He's so handsome." She says, leaning forward to brush her hand across her grandson's cheek. "You can see a lot of Mike in him."

Mike stands beside the two of them, nodding his head with a smile. Nessa puts Charlie down on the floor to play with Ruby, still never saying a word.

"Ness, I'm sorry. We just couldn't…."

"I know." Nessa says, closing her eyes. "I know."
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They are all still staring at me silently; I can hear the slow chirping of the crickets. Dad walks over slowly and takes the gun out of my hand, pulling me close to his chest. He hugs me tightly for a long while before pulling away. He then bends down and takes a knee, looking me in the eyes. "You okay?" he asks, looking so deep into my eyes I think he knows what I'm thinking before I do.

I nod my head yes, "I'm fine." I say confidently. He continues to stare, trying to read my face. "really, I'm okay." I say reassuringly.

Accepting my answer for what it is he stands up and looks around. "Okay, we need to get what we can from them quickly, weapons, flashlights, radios, you name it take it." He orders. We all spread out and raid the bodies around us. Three or four minutes later we regroup taking inventory of what we have.

Six pistols
Three AK47's
Three flashlights
Two radios
A half empty canteen of water

"Okay, we take four of the pistols and the clips from the other two" he hands a flashlight to mom and grandpa and one for himself, he does the same with the AK47's, gives mom the canteen, a radio to grandpa and himself, and then distributes the pistols, but he stops as he gets to me.

"I know how to handle a pistol dad." I say with confidence. Dad nods his head.

"How do you know how to use a pistol?" Mom asks, her voice getting higher as she looks to dad with a raised eyebrow.

"What? I thought he needed to know, and good thing." Dad says defending himself.

Mom sighs reluctantly and nods her head. Dad hands me the pistol slowly. As I take it from his hands he points and says, "flick that and it's the….."

"It's the safety, I know dad." I say curtly. Both mom and dad look to each other, unsure of their decision.

"He'll be fine…" grandpa says walking over to me, patting me on the shoulder. "If he has an ounce of our blood running through him he'll be fine."
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"So where's pop's if he's not here?" Nessa asks, looking around.

"He's with Danny, Delinda, and Josh on the way home." Jillian replies smiling.

"Danny's coming home?" Nessa asks, her face lighting up.

"Only for a week, then they're sending him back." She says, her voice lowering with sadness.

"Back? How can they send him back after this? He's done four tours now, and been tort…." Nessa stops, remembering that Ruby is in the room. "Ruby, can you take Charlie into Josh's room and find him something to play with?" Ruby nods her head and smiles, taking Charlie by the hand down the hall. She waits until their footsteps can no longer be heard before she starts again. "The last time he was over there we thought he was dead, they tortured him! Then they make him go back all these years later, he gets hurt and they send him back again? They can't do this Jillian, it's not right. We need to do something!" Nessa spits with rage.

Jillian nods her head, "I agree, but you know Danny would never go against his country, he's just like Ed."

"Yes, but do you think he would put his country before his kids? If he goes back over there his children may lose their father."
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We walk in the darkness, listening to the soft chirps of the crickets and the cool breeze rush past us.

I see dads face wince each time he takes another step forward on his leg. I think to myself how much pain he must be in. I remember the time he and uncle mike were playing basketball and he broke his finger. I could hear it snap all the way from bleachers. It was all distorted and facing a way it shouldn't. He showed no sign of pain though; he just looked at it and said, 'How am I supposed to type up those reports like this?'

He drove home, put a splint on it, and didn't complain about the pain once. I wish we could do that now, just drive home and put a Band-Aid on his leg, make everything better.

Dad stops walking and puts his arm up with a fist. I stop; trying to see whatever it is that has him hesitating. I squint, trying to see through the pitch black that is darkness. I think I see something, but my eyes have a difficult time focusing.

After a few seconds I realize that we are looking at a fence. It's tall with wooden stakes and chain link fence, topped with barbed wire. I haven't decided yet whether the security measures are to keep people in or out.

"What is that place?" I ask.

"The place where we need to be." He answers, still surveying our surroundings. "No sudden movements." He orders.

He looks around a bit more, discussing his game plane with grandpa.

"No, I have to go." Dad argues. "Technically you don't have any military clearance."

Grandpa sighs and looks down to his right, "Fine…"

"Okay you three stay here while I go and get them to let us in."

It doesn't seem like a dangerous mission, at lease compared to what we've been through and what he has done, but I think he must know something that I don't. He looks to me, staring at me. "I'll be back in a bit." He says, reminding me a little of the terminator movies. He hugs me tightly and turns to mom, he kisses her; the look on her face is filled with worry.

As he begins to head towards the fence he looks to grandpa and gives a simple nod.

It's hard to see him as he gets farther away, but I can't figure out why he's walking so slowly.

"What's he doing?" I ask, as I watch him kneel to the ground. Neither of them answers me. "What's he…"

"Disarming a landmine." Grandpa answers.

My stomach sinks; I can feel my knees go weak. I bring my hands to my stomach, "I don't feel so good." I mumble, turning to lean on a rock as I throw up the little amount of food that was in my stomach.

I wipe the corners of my mouth as I come back up. Mom pats my back and grandpa gives me an understanding nod.

I can shoot a man in cold blood and have no problem, but the slight chance of him being in danger makes me sick to my stomach. Is that normal?

"How many do you think there are?" I ask.

He shrugs his shoulders as he watches dad intently. Dad finally stands and takes three small, slow, steps. He stops again and extends his right leg about four feet out in front of him. He then pulls his left leg over too, and hesitates before moving again. I can see his shoulders move up and down as he lets out a large sigh.

We continue to watch with our eyes fixed on him. I turn around quickly as I hear someone talking.

"What?" grandpa asks.

"Voices." I reply softly, gripping the pistol tightly in my hands.

"Stay here." He commands, moving in the direction of the chatter.

Mom stands behind a rock, still watching dad as he moves across the mine field. I kneel just behind her; facing the direction in which grandpa just went. I hold the pistol firmly, but not too firmly, my right shoulder up, with my elbows slightly bent.

I hear running, I want to shoot but I don't know if it's grandpa or not. I hear a shot and then see someone fly around the corner. It takes me a second to determine who it is, but as soon as I see it's not a familiar face I fire.

Mom screams, "We're fine! Keep going!" to dad, who obviously heard the shots.

The man falls to the ground with a loud thud. Two more shots are fired and another man comes barreling towards us. Again I fire, this time twice in his upper torso; he too falls to the ground. There is more running, I move to pull the trigger, but this time it's grandpa. He's running fast and suddenly sees one of the bodies on the floor and jumps over it. He runs to my side and takes a knee, aiming his AK-47 in the same direction as I am.

"How many were there?" I ask, never taking my eyes off my target.

"Six, I got one."

Now there is a spot light coming from behind me. I can hear dad screaming with panic. "I am a United States Marine!" he shouts. "My family…..our plane went down! Please let us in, there are hostiles shooting at us!"

Another one comes around the corner, we each fire two bullets in him.

"I'm a United States Marine!" he yells pleadingly. "Danny McCoy!"

Suddenly there are two shots from behind me. I turn quickly and see mom holding her pistol, shooting the two men who were coming from our left.

"Danny hurry!" Grandpa yells, unsure if there are more coming.

Dad looks to us and back to the men in the tower. "Look, my family is being shot at! Please!" He screams, pointing to us. I hear a loud buzzer and dad running.

"They're opening the gate." Mom says hurriedly. We run in his direction quickly.

"Stay on my path!" he cries. I hear a shot behind us and stop, turn around, and take a knee. I fire two shots at him and see him fall. I turn to run again, I feel my foot hit something hard, something that shouldn't be in sand. I run faster as I hear three quick beeps. Suddenly I'm thrown to the ground, the heat on my back singes off a few hairs on my neck. I open my eyes, everything is moving, I can hear them all yelling, but I can't make out what they are saying.

Suddenly I'm standing up, but I'm not sure how because I can't feel my legs. I look to my left and see grandpa, my arm over his shoulder; which seems to explain why I'm standing up. My head feels too heavy….things seem to become darker than they were before. I close my eyes…….only for a moment.
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"So when should they be here?" Nessa asks.

"I don't know, a couple hours." Jillian replies, "I guess we can call them and find out." She says standing up. She walks in the kitchen and picks up a satellite phone from the kitchen drawer. She dials a few numbers as she makes her way back to the living room.

She frowns as it rings repeatedly with no answer.

"What?" Mike asks.

"No answer." She says, closing the antenna on the phone.

"Well maybe they're just sleeping." He says with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Yeah….maybe." Jillian says, her voice filled with doubt.

"You don't think they're sleeping do you?" Ness says looking her surrogate mother in the eyes.

Jillian looks over to her, not saying a word, yet saying so much.