Genomorph

Chapter 69

CHAPTER 69

DECEMBER 27, 2005

The Humvee pulled through the broken down gate of the compound and stopped a short distance away from a small marble marker. It was escorted by a pair of Bradley fighting vehicles carrying two infantry rifle squads. There had been insurgent activity in the surrounding area, and the brass did not want anything to happen to the two young women in the hummer.

Staff Sergeant Ken Lerner was amazed that they had even been given clearance to come out here. The site was still something of an enigma; no one knew for certain what had been in the bunker. But the story still made the rounds of a platoon of Navy SEALs, outnumbered almost twenty to one, and the officer who had single-handedly held off a reinforced company of Republican Guards while the support personnel and his men escaped.

Brandi took a deep breath and then exited the Humvee. Admiral Hammerstein had pulled a lot of strings to get them out here, and now that she was here, she was tempted to tell them to turn around and leave. She did not though, and as she stood beside the hummer, she felt really odd in the desert pattern BDU’s, body armor and Kevlar helmet. She smiled at the thought; there was a time when she’d felt odd dressed in anything else.

Melissa joined her on the sand, and their escort, Sergeant Lerner did as well. Brandi turned to the tall, handsome NCO and smiled.

“Could we have just a few minutes, sweetie?” she asked. “I promise we won’t get into any trouble.”

“OK, Miss, but please don’t wander far from the marker,” Lerner said. “And don’t stray outside the fence, there may still be mines out there.”

“We won’t, honey,” Brandi flashed him another sunburst smile. “And if you don’t start calling me Brandi, I’m gonna be sad.”

“Well, I sure wouldn’t want that, Brandi,” Lerner grinned.

The two young women walked over to the stone and stood there for a moment. There was an inscription on the marker:

In Honor of Lieutenant Commander Brandon Anderson

United States Navy, 1st Platoon, Seal Team Eight

June 23, 1965 - April, 18, 2005

Congressional Medal of Honor Recipient for action against a numerically superior force on 23 March, 2003. On that day, Commander Anderson demonstrated valor and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty, upholding the finest traditions of the United Sates Navy and the Navy SEALs. While engaged in the investigation of a suspected chemical weapons storage site, Lieutenant Commander Anderson’s platoon came under heavy fire….

“Are you okay, love?” Melissa asked.

“I’m fine,” Brandi assured her. “I just really needed to see this place. In a very real sense, this is where I was born.”

Melissa looked around at the bleak landscape, which showed no evidence of the battle that had raged here. She slipped her arm around Brandi’s waist and pulled her close.

“You know, three other men died that night,” Brandi said. “They were no less brave than me. They stepped up and put on the uniform … no one forced them. Why should I be singled out as a hero?”

“Because we need heroes,” Melissa told her. “We need those men and women who show us that one person can make a difference. Make no mistake, love, what you did was special. The world may never know how special; that on that night you altered the course of history forever.”

She turned to look Brandi in the face, her eyes lit with intensity.

“Don’t you ever doubt your heart!” Melissa told her. “You bear that title for those three men, and the two thousand others who have died in this war, and the countless others in wars past.”

Brandi considered her words, looking around at the buildings, already showing the ravages of the desert. She closed her eyes, vividly recalling that night, the mission, the explosion. A single tear rolled down her face.

She knelt before the stone and laid the small wreath of flowers she had brought against it.

“Goodbye, Brandon,” she whispered. “I’ll never forget you. You’re a part of me, the best part … but it’s time to live my life.”

Rising, she stepped back, took one more look around and smiled, a little sadly, at Melissa.

“We’d better get back before the boys get antsy,” she said.

The two walked back to the hummer arm in arm. Sergeant Lerner held the door open for them as they entered the hummer, and then took his seat next to the driver.

“Did you know Commander Anderson, Brandi?” Lerner asked as the small convoy headed back to Baghdad.

“He was … a friend,” Brandi smiled. “A very good friend.”

“I never had the pleasure, but he was a hell of a soldier, even if he was a swabbie,” Lerner said. “Yes ma’am, they don’t come along like him often. He was an honest to God warrior.”

“Yes, he was,” Brandi said, still smiling.

Melissa leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and then whispered softly in her ear.

“You still are, love. You still are.”

The End