The End of the Beginning

“You are too hopeful of humanity, Will. Hope is not a strategy, it is an excuse!” shouted Hernandez quickly.

He swung his gun around and fired into the adjacent construction site through its chain link fence about sixty feet to William’s right. His bullet hit the release valve of a large hydrogen tanker truck at the base of the tower crane, releasing the gas with a loud hiss. He fired another bullet just below the hissing stream. The bullet grazed the metal tank creating a wisp of sparks. The sparks ignited the stream with an orange flame, which found its way into the tankers chamber.

Hernandez grabbed the object in Hammond’s hand. He released his headlock only to punch her in the jaw, knocking her to the ground. He took off running out across the apron towards the airports runways. William watched as Hernandez sprinted away.

“Stop,” he stammered. “Sto - ”

The tanker truck exploded into a tremendous fireball. The patrol cars closest to it were thrown over. Guardsmen’s uniforms caught fire. The explosion flashed boiled rain falling around it into a cloud of steam. William and his team were thrown down by the shockwave. All of Hammond’s planes windows blew out, as did the rest of the vehicles in the dissolving semicircle.

William fell into a puddle, hitting the back of his head hard. He looked up and saw the boom of the crane moving violently. Within seconds he realized the boom was collapsing as the foundation of the tower crane buckled. He saw it was going to fall in the space between him and the plane. With adrenaline pulling him off the ground, he dashed over to Base Commander Hammond. The metal cranes foundation snapped and creaked, smashing through the chain-link fence and through the overturned ISAF vehicles. Several guardsmen were pinned below its beams, crushing them. William dove and rolled just as the crane smashed into the tarmac beside him, cracking it. The boom buckled back on itself and landed on Hammond’s small plane, cutting it in half, igniting its fuel into another fireball.

William looked through the twisted beams. His team was okay; the impact had missed them by about ten feet. William keeled over once again in pain, panic, and fear. He couldn’t stop seeing his grandfathers whitening face as life escaped him in the hot New Orleans sun twenty-two years earlier. The heat from the fires brought images of the nuclear blast he agonized through… “Help me, Lieutenant Emerson! I’m burning up! It burns! Help me…”

William caught sight of John again through the dispersing steam. He still hadn’t moved. He couldn’t be… Life couldn’t do that. Life couldn’t possibly be that cruel. William pleaded in his head for the sight in front of him to not be true, not to be another waste. John’s blood moved across the tarmac puddles, reaching William’s hands. Once again, they were doused in the blood of those he loved.

One of John’s fingers twitched, then another, and another. William began crawling over to him, his legs cramped with anxiety.

“John!” he cried. “John please, wake up! Wake up!”

John didn’t answer. William dragged himself up to the colonel. Blood was everywhere. An entry wound was just above his heart.

“John!” cried William again. “Wake up! Wake up damnit.”

“Captain!”

William looked back. Hammond was staring at him, clenching her right jawbone.

“Captain,” she said, “he’s not dead. He’s not dead. He’s not dead unless you let him be.”

“Ma’am…”

“Don’t let John become just another aching memory of someone you failed. He will die if you do not fight. He will die if you accept this as your own fault as you have so many times in the past. The water in your life has already drowned. The knife has already killed. The bomb has already burned. That cannot be changed; but, the bullet has not yet killed, nor does it ever have to. Hernandez is still out there, running. He is death. He is your retribution to your past. Face him. Fight him. Stop him, for all our sakes!” “Ma’am… He, he was right. Look at me… The pain of those memories - ”

“Your grandfathers death was not your fault Captain! Your past was not your fault!” Hammond screamed. “It was life!” Hammond pointed out towards the runways. “That man is not life, he is mortal that, unlike life, can in fact be stopped. So do it!” William looked down at John’s blood soaked body…

I saw my grandfather fall into John’s place, on his back dying outside the Superdome, covered in blood.

“Poppy no, no, no, not you too,” I said to him, crying. “I’m sorry. This is my fault! My fault! Don’t leave. Don’t leave! I don’t want to be alone. Stay here! Please. Please Poppy. You promised I wouldn’t be alone anymore!” My grandfather took my hand, trembling. I remembered his next few words to be his last. But the memory changed. He looked different. He looked alive. Color returned to his cheeks and blood cleared away. A comforting smile swept his face. His hand stopped trembling. I settled in my breathing as I was overcome with peace.

My grandfather brushed my puffy cheek, looked me in the eyes, and said, “You’re my grandson, Will. You are never alone. Nothing was your fault. It wasn’t your weakness that killed me; it was just a knife being held by the hands of someone as scared and as innocent as you were.” “But I didn’t even try to stop the boy, Poppy. I didn’t even try.”

“What we do in one moment of our lives does not define us, it is what we do after that moment and how we bear the consequences of it, that do. Let your grandmother and I go, Will. You saved us by just giving us the chance to have a child again. Your friend before you, and the world as well, are the moment you must attend to right now so that the consequences of it do not overtake the future you still deserve, of the future we always wanted for you, one in which you do not suffer and do not fear.” My grandfather squeezed my hand and wiped away tears from my eyes.

“It’s finally time to let me go, Will.”

I smiled one last time at him. “Okay, Poppy. Okay,” I tearfully nodded.

“Now, go,” my grandfather smiled. “Be all that you can. Save all that you can, Captain William Emerson… Captain William Emerson… Captain Emerson…” “…Captain Emerson!” shouted Hammond, now kneeling beside William, shaking his shoulder. She was putting pressure on John’s wound with her other hand.

William suddenly grabbed her hand ferociously. “Where is he?” he demanded zealously.

The sudden change in William’s attitude startled Hammond. He was refocused and strong.

“Where is he?” William demanded again.

“He ran off towards the west. I think he’s heading towards the vertical landing pads. He’s going to try and leave the base.”

“No,” William shook his head, “he won’t. Get communications back online. Get a medical team for John.”

“They are already on their way.”

William stood up but Hammond tugged his arm down.

“I need what he took back, Captain. I need the flash drive.”

“What’s on it?” William asked.

Hammond scowled and looked over at the raging fires all around. “My mission.”

“Do you need him?”

“No.”

“Thought so,” reveled William coldly. He ran towards the last intact ISAF patrol car on his side of the fallen crane and got in it. It was already running. He floored the accelerator and skidded out of the parking space onto the apron and headed west.