Page 108 of Luck Be Mine
Carter handed the folded flag to Commander Gregg. With care and attention, the man stepped to Bess and offered the tribute.
“On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Navy, and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service.”Gregg offered comforting words and stepped back.
Hunt knew those words by heart. Tears dripped from Cait’s eyes, and he squeezed her hand.
Twenty-one SEALS stood and made their way to the right aisle of the church. The line stretched back to the last pews. Pounding a SEAL trident into the fallen teammate’s coffin wasa tradition that showed honor, respect, and brotherhood and stood as a commitment to never forget his sacrifice.
Hernandez went first, his face still a stone mask. His bloodshot eyes gave him away. He stood motionless for a moment. All eyes in the church stayed on him. He slammed a trident into the wood.
Each man went.
Each man offered his own silent thoughts to their dead teammate.
Each man slammed a trident into the wood.
Minutes and more minutes passed.
Hunt let each SEAL go ahead of him. The sweet smell of roses and lilies filled his nostrils, but comfort wasn’t there.
He would be last. He’d been his commander and the last man to talk to him. He would be the last to say goodbye.
Hunt’s turn came.
All the men had returned to their seats.
He eyed the casket and the arrangement of tridents. Baxter deserved this and so much more.
He stood in grave silence to honor Robert’s sacrifice.
No eye remained dry, yet the poignant stillness was not broken.
Saying goodbye always hurt.Rest easy, brother.
Hunt slammed his trident into the wood of the coffin.
The thwack echoed through the church.
Bess Baxter quietly cried.
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◊ Quiet After the Storm ◊
Hunt followed Cait into their house.
Goodbyes to his team at the curb had been rough.
On a clear, beautiful night like this, he and Cait usually sat on their porch and talked to the neighbors.
Not tonight.
Many had stopped by to offer condolences and support, but he hadn’t been up to any conversation and neither had Cait. They were holding the team and their families together by a terribly slim thread, and he was trying like hell not to drown Cait in his own anguish.
His logical brain knew Bax’s death was not his fault. They opened the door. It was a toss up who went out first. It could have been him.
Him.
He locked eyes on the security panel, buried in memories – the ghosts of violence and death from the past taunting him. The pain in his chest ricocheted from gut to heart to brain. The massive effort to slam the doors in his head stabbed in hard thrusts. He wouldn’t remember. Not now.
