Page 49 of A Deeper Darkness
Susan put her hand on Sam’s shoulder. “He knew. It was his way. That was Eddie for you. He always found a way to understand. That’s why I married him in the first place. He never once looked at me as a daughter of a general, but instead, he looked at me as me. I fell for that in the first five seconds.”
They shared a moment of companionable silence, not friends, but acquaintances on a journey neither one could face alone.
Sam pulled herself together, and moved around the room, seeking. She was able to look at the details now. It was a good office, full of light, even this late in the day, with the windows overlooking the gardens out back by the conservatory. The desk was a wide plank of polished wood, hand-carved by the look of it, with a smaller, thinner credenza behind it. The way it was situated in the room, with his back to the wall, he could see out both the windows and the doors, and have a good view of his books. Typical of the bloody man, wanting to see all the angles.
On closer examination, Sam could see the appeal of the setup. Squirrels ran up and down the branches outside the window, and a feeder covered in cardinals hung from the nearby tree. There would be hummingbirds in the summer, flowers in full bud. It was quite the bucolic little scene.
There were a few framed pictures on the wall: Donovan with his army buddies, a recent family portrait—the girls didn’t look too much younger than when Sam had seen them for the first time—and a picture of Donovan with four other men in fatigues, arms around one another, cigarettes dangling from lips, wild-eyed and grinning, under which was a plaque that read The Ranger Creed.
Sam digested the words, and gained a tiny bit of understanding for the man she’d lost. As she read, she couldhearDonovan reciting the pledge, spine straight, shoulders back, forefinger crisply to forehead, believing every single word. More than believing. Becoming.
Recognizing that I volunteered as a Ranger, fully knowing the hazards of my chosen profession, I will always endeavor to uphold the prestige, honor, and high esprit de corps of my Ranger Regiment.
Acknowledging the fact that a Ranger is a more elite soldier, who arrives at the cutting edge of battle by land, sea, or air, I accept the fact that as a Ranger, my country expects me to move farther, faster and fight harder than any other soldier.
Never shall I fail my comrades. I will always keep myself mentally alert, physically strong and morally straight and I will shoulder more than my share of the task whatever it may be, one hundred percent and then some.
Gallantly will I show the world that I am a specially selected and well-trained soldier. My courtesy to superior officers, neatness of dress and care of equipment shall set the example for others to follow.
Energetically will I meet the enemies of my country. I shall defeat them on the field of battle for I am better trained and will fight with all my might.Surrenderis not a Ranger word. I will never leave a fallen comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy and under no circumstances will I ever embarrass my country.
Readily will I display the intestinal fortitude required to fight on to the Ranger objective and complete the mission though I be the lone survivor.
RANGERS LEAD THE WAY!
Hoo-rah, Sam thought. Damn hero. No wonder this appealed to him. He’d never given anything less than one hundred percent, be it school, the military or his heart. And when he knew he couldn’t give everything to Sam, he’d walked away rather than shortchange her. Donovan was a Ranger to a T, always had been.
“That’s Hal Croswell there.” Susan pointed at the picture above the plaque. “And Xander. I think the other is Billy Shakes. That’s not his real name. It’s William Everett. No one went by their given names, always nicknames. Hal was Jackal—Eddie always said he was crazy. Xander was Mutant, because of the X-Men thing, and Billy Shakes was a Shakespeare fanatic.”
“What did they call Eddie?” Sam asked.
“Doc, mostly. Since he’d been to med school, even though he dropped out. Or MH. For Mother Hen.”
Oh, how that fit.
“Since he’d been to med school, was he a medic?”
“No. Eddie was an infantry officer who happened to have medical knowledge. Medics are usually enlisted men who are recruited and go through specialized education for combat medicine. He went through a bunch of the training, but he was a special case. If one of the guys got hurt, it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him to work on them himself if the medic was otherwise engaged.
“That crew went out on nearly every mission together. They spent weeks marching through the mountains looking for Bin Laden, trying to keep the Taliban from killing everyone—Eddie found them particularly brutal. They didn’t seem to care if the enemy died, or their own people. So long as things went boom.”
Sam couldn’t help herself; a small laugh escaped her lips. Susan arched an eyebrow.
“Honestly, I didn’t sleep while he was gone. Iraq I could wrap my head around. That was just sheer hell, knowing every time the phone rang, it might be the call that he’d been blown up. He used to tell me stories about the IEDs they discovered. Every day the roads would be swept, and every night, the Iraqis would find ways to lay the bombs down again. But Afghanistan—I didn’t know anything about their mission, andthatwas harder to deal with. His silence. It was all very hush-hush. I still don’t know. He never told me. But he came back different afterward. Got out and never looked back.”
“Bin Laden?”
“Perhaps.”
“Glad we finally got him, at least,” Sam said.
“Eddie was ecstatic. Not riot-in-the-street happy, but he truly thought that might be the real beginning of the end. Al-Qaeda may be a hydra, but Bin Laden’s face was on all of the heads.”
Sam stared at the picture. She’d never noticed that Donovan and Simon had the same smile, half-crooked, devilish and devastatingly cute.
“Who was the fifth man? The blond over on the right, kneeling?”
Susan’s face changed. “Oh. That’s Perry Fisher. King, they called him. He’s…passed.”
