Page 3 of A Moment Never Forgotten
Micah returned the salute and the man in his mid-twenties lowered his right hand. If he hadn’t been carefully watching, he would have missed the slight wince. “What are your injuries?”
He heard Berit’s gasp but didn’t take his eyes off the man in front of him.
“Two broken ribs, flying debris grazed my right shoulder, and I’m still thirty-five percent deaf in both ears.” He squared his shoulders imperceptibly. “Nothing major. I’m good to go, sir.”
Micah nodded once. Those injuries were all to be expected given the explosion he had watched via satellite. He was confident that Evan would keep the squad stateside for at least six weeks while the men recuperated. Christmas stateside was a possibility in between training exercises. Slots would have to be filled with FNGs straight out of BUD/s. Deciding where the Fucking New Guys would best fit in was no longer Micah’s job. He trusted Evan to rebuild Mak’s squad. In a matter of weeks personnel issues at Naval Special Warfare Group Two would no longer be his concern. He had orders to the Pentagon.
“No, you’re notgood to goanywhere except to the hospital.” Berit’s declaration kept Micah’s brain from wandering into his future. She spun around and got into his face. “You are going to order my son, and the rest of his squad, to report tomorrow morning to Walter Reed Medical Center where they will undergo extensive testing to determine the precise extent of their injuries. None of them are fit for duty until their bones are completely healed.”
Petty Officer Barker looked ready to panic while Evan was visibly fighting to withhold a snicker.
“Sir, permission to remove my mother. And please forgive her. She’s used to ordering people around over at Langley.” His shoulders raised a fraction of an inch. “She’s kind of a big deal over there.”
“Permission denied.” Micah had never seen a woman defend a SEAL. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the mothering instinct displayed before in his life. He was both impressed and amused.
Micah’s mother had died when he was five and his father never remarried, so he had never seen a mother in action. It had always been just the two of them in the house on the shores of Lake Erie.
There were only two hundred seventy-two people who could give him orders and all except the President of the United States wore stars on their shoulders. Yet, this woman had just given him a direct order.
Through his peripheral vision, Micah could see all the eyes of the young sailors staring at him. He held her gaze. “Thank you, Ms. Barker, for yoursuggestion.” He purposely emphasized the last word. “I’m sure Commander Hubbard will take it under consideration…next week.”
He lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over all the young faces in Navy dress blue uniforms around him. He understood their emotions and knew they needed a break. “Gentlemen, since tomorrow is Friday, and I believe we have all been through enough today, liberty is granted until oh eight hundred Monday.”
“Ten hut,” Mak called out.
Everyone wearing a uniform came to attention, even Micah.
“Sir, on behalf of the men, I would like to thank you.” Mak raised his hand in salute and all the SEALs followed.
“Sir, thank you, sir,” they said in unison.
Micah and Evan saluted back. “Enjoy your weekend, and for Christ’s sake, stay out of trouble. SEALs have been getting enough bad press lately. Dismissed.”
Cheers resounded as fists pumped into the air.
“I’ll meet you all back at Mom’s house.” Mak’s voice carried as they all but ran to their cars.
“It looks as though I need to stop by the grocery store on my way home. Best I be going.” Her smile was that of a proud mother.
“Commander Hubbard, it was a pleasure meeting you.” Berit had moved back into her warm yet professional persona.
“The pleasure was all mine.” Evan grabbed her hand and enveloped it in both of his, giving her his lady-killer smile that under other circumstances was almost a guarantee to get him laid. He was between wives, again, but Micah thought the man had more class than to troll for women at a funeral. On the other hand, there was something special about Berit Barker.
She returned a congenial smile. “Until next time.”
When she retrieved her hand, she thrust it toward Micah. “Captain Reid, it was nice to see you again. Perhaps next time we meet it will be under more positive circumstances.”
He shook her hand in the professional manner it was offered. “We can only hope.”
Micah and Evan started walking in the opposite direction where military drivers waited with official vehicles, secretly armored to protect two of the most sought-after Navy SEALs on the East Coast.
“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Evan commented. “For a few minutes there, I’d forgotten who she really is, besides being Mak’s mother.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Micah’s mind had been desperately hoping that his driver had the heat on. Ever since he’d experienced light frostbite on a mission years ago in North Korea, his toes were extremely sensitive to the cold.
“Berit Barker,” Evan said as though Micah should have known.
“What about her?” Then he remembered his conversation with her and decided he should explain his connection to her. “Ms. Barker handled the funeral arrangements for an old friend of mine who used to be the Director of Special Activities at the CIA. She’s some kind of Casualty Assistance Officer for them.”
