Ghost Soldiers

Chapter Eight - Reunions and Rescues - Conclusion

 

Author's Notes: This portion of the story is set, in part, in Haiti after the disaster struck and while relief efforts commenced. It is not meant in any way to sensationalize the human tragedy that has taken place, and is continuing to take place there.  Nor is it meant to trivialize the incredible heroism and courage of those who are working night and day to rescue the injured. It is meant only to honor the courage of the ordinary people who find themselves in extraordinary circumstances and somehow manage to work miracles.

 

 

Written for Germansoulmate in connection with the Help_Haiti pledge drive for Haiti Disaster Relief. This story is dedicated to Beatrix, with my thanks for her generous donation to UNICEF.

 

 

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(Setting: Haiti; January 15^th, POV/Red)

 

I watched John O’Keefe drop from sight at the same time that Luke disappeared from view, chasing the little Haitian kid. Reflexively, I grabbed English’s arm and stopped him from haring off. He glared at me.

 

“Release me, Red! I must....”

 

“Wait here until we get them out,” I finished his sentence for him, speaking slowly and clearly – just in case he was suffering from a sudden attack of “let’s act stupid” also. A lot of it was going around.  His eyes looked so bleak, though, that I felt bad, so I added, “or until we know if they need you inside, and we have a way to get you in to them. But you go running in after one of them and you just know that the other one will be the one who ends up needing you most. It’s guaranteed.”

 

He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes intense and his grip on my shoulder just shy of excruciating; then the tension left his body and he shook his head ruefully. “You’re right – damn you.  So, what do you propose instead?”

 

I was relieved. If Linton had insisted on going in there, I’d have tried to have stopped him, which would have taken force – a lot of force. We’ve never established whether I could stop Linton from doing something if I had to. I wasn’t in any hurry to find out. I suspected it would result in one of us being badly hurt which we couldn’t afford right now. As I strapped on the necessary gear for entering a collapsing building – something Luke didn’t stop to do, the idiot – I asked Linton:

 

“I made sure John has a radio on him – does Luke have his?”

 

Linton looked relieved. “Of course! He always does. Shall we call them? I confess, I don’t have mine. I left it behind in the rush to get here.”

 

“Take this and try to raise them; it’s already set to our frequency. Now that the aftershock is over, I’ll get these California boys organized and we’ll get started on moving these blocks out of the way.”

 

The firemen were good at what they did. It took no time at all – mere minutes really –  to get them assigned to the various tasks that needed doing. I’ve watched Luke do this enough times to know what to do, how to go about securing a building like this. What I didn’t know was which large pieces could be moved without sending the whole thing crashing down on the people inside. He was the engineer, not me. For all that I teased him, he really did know his stuff when it came to loads and stress.  

 

I’d just finished up with the firemen when Linton called me over to him. He didn’t wait for me to reach him – I was still several yards away when he raised a pale face to me.

 

“Neither one is answering. You try...perhaps I’m doing it wrong?”

 

We both knew that wasn’t likely but I ran the rest of the way to him and grabbed the radio out of his hand. I tried the correct frequency and then a couple others, calling for Luke and John by their agreed upon code names and then by their real names, finally just demanding that an “O’Keefe” answer, in the hope that maybe, just maybe, one of the girls could respond if for some reason the men couldn’t get a hand free.

 

Nothing.

 

Resisting the urge to throw the radio, I looked at the area of roof where I’d seen John go down, and then over toward the side of the building, where Luke had entered, chasing the kid Luc, before more sections had collapsed. That entranceway was a lost cause but a crane might be able to lift away a large enough section from that side for us to get in. We needed more equipment.

 

“Linton, get on the line to the French. They have some big pieces of equipment here and they like Luke. All of our stuff is already in place somewhere else but I think they are free for smaller jobs like this. See if you can get their commanding officer, what’s his name, you know, the one Luke was drinking with last night, see if he’ll get it and a crew here as fast as possible. Set them up over there by that section. If Luke survived that aftershock, he’ll stay alive and he’s probably trying to make his way over to the middle.”

 

“Why wouldn’t he be answering his radio?” Linton’s face was bleak.

 

“Cos his hands are full holding up a wall, or he’s busy crawling, or he dropped it, any number of reasons,” I rattled off to English, not adding the ones he could think of himself, like that he was dead, or too hurt to talk or operate it. His hands could be crushed, we’d seen a lot of that type of injury, legs too. I pressed on with my instructions. “Meanwhile, we need these California boys to keep moving the debris away on this side, everything that can be moved without disturbing any load bearing structures. No one else is to go in – that’s an order and I need you to enforce it.”

 

“I need to enforce it? Where are you going to be?” English’s expression was pure suspicion. With good reason.  I was grabbing up water bottles and putting them into a backpack, along with small tools.  Without looking at him I said, “Give me some first aid stuff, not too much, just enough to cover basic stabilization.”

 

“You’re going in there,” Linton made it an accusation more than a question.  I nodded.

 

“Look, I know you want to go in too, but think. I’m physically stronger if someone has to be lifted out, or crap has to be lifted off them. You’re the better doctor, but I know enough for anything that could be accomplished in there.  We need you out here for the tricky stuff assuming we can get anyone out alive. It is the best use of resources – you and I are supposed to be the members of the team who are able to assess this kind of situation cold bloodedly. I’m telling you, in my cold blooded way, that I’m going in there and there’s no way in hell I’m letting you risk yourself by going in too.”

 

We wasted all of three seconds staring into each other’s eyes. Then, he nodded, his face as grim as I’d ever seen it. “Be careful, Red. And get them all out of there, please.”

 

“Such good manners,” I mocked, but I also squeezed his shoulder to let him know I understood. His was going to be the harder job.

 

I left it to English to handle the fireboys, which I knew he would do well. First he placed the call to the French guy who was in charge; he’d been chomping at the bit to do more than he’d been able to do so far. He’d started sending his people out in response to every report they got of people trapped and were systematically rescuing people, as opposed to doing “zones” of the city, section by section. It made sense but so did the French’s way – going to places where there was someone yelling for help.

 

Ignoring the questions that drifted after me – English could deal with them –  I quickly scaled the building, instinctively picking out the most stable foot and hand holds. I made it to the roof – what was left of it – without incident. I didn’t waste time there, but lowered myself inside, bit by bit. I’d taken the precaution of wearing a helmet that was fitted with a light, and I turned it on so that I could see down into the interior of the building.

 

It was a mess of fallen beams and entire sections where the upper levels had collapsed upon the lower ones. The buildings in this city looked like they’d been built by the Three Stooges. I walked lightly on the second level, leaning down to peer through to the first floor, trying to find where John had gone. He had appeared to me to have jumped rather than fallen, which made sense, I’d have done the same, but I was hoping he’d seen something to jump to. I made my way toward the center, which seemed to provide the best access to the first level of the hotel.

 

“Jack! Jack O’Keefe! Answer me, damn it! O’Keefe!”

 

I listened carefully. I was deep enough inside by this point that the sounds from outside were muffled. Was that something? I strained to filter out the extraneous noise, keeping absolutely still as I’d been taught by Grandfather so many years ago.

 

“Help...O’Keefes... here...John too....”

 

A girl’s voice. Weak but definitely responsive. First things first. I grabbed my radio.

 

“English. Got at least one responsive person on the ground level, and she’s saying there’s multiple O’Keefes, including John. No word on the Colonel but he’s probably on the other end still. Once I get down to this group and secure them, I’ll check out the other side.”

 

“Roger. We have a crane and more men on the way.”

 

We didn’t say anything further. We both would prefer that I looked now for Luke – but that wasn’t the job and Luke would be the first one to kill me if I left his brother and nieces to go look for him. Tucking the radio securely into the holder at my waist, I called down into the abyss,

 

“Hang on, sweetheart. Uncle Red is here and we’re going to get you out of there.”

 

I heard a sob. Then, thankfully, John’s voice floated up to me, “Careful, Red. Second level is very unstable. But the sooner you get down here, the better.”

 

His voice sounded odd. It didn’t come from the same place the other voice had, not exactly. It was a bit over, to the right. Two different sections then.  I called down again, my voice level and reassuring.

 

“I’ll be right there. Big equipment on its way. We’ll have y’all out of here in no time.”

 

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(POV/John O’Keefe)

 

Sometimes the dumbest things I do end up being the right thing. Like getting Mickey pregnant when we were still teenagers in college. Not a bright move – but it led to my marrying the only woman I could ever love and to our son Johnny, whom I love more than life itself, for all his flaws. I think sometimes I love him more because of his flaws – thank God he’s not perfect, as I was expected to be perfect.

 

And then there was the incredibly stupid affair I had with my secretary, Carol. I must have been the only one who couldn’t see her true nature – until I married her, that is. But that mistake led to my sons, Joshua and Jared, and it wasn’t until my marriage to Carol ended – horribly – and I had full custody of my boys that I realized what I’d been missing in not spending more time with them. They were great little guys who acted out because they’d been neglected by both parents and the only people to set any limits for them were my mom, who’d died, and my little brother, who they didn’t see enough thanks to me. My divorce from their mother was probably the best thing I could do for them...and me. I finally stepped up to the plate and was a father to my own sons. All three of them.

 

But, ironically, I’d always been there for my sister Mary Frances’ children. Maybe because there was no pressure. No sense of being a failure as a dad with them. They had Liam the drunk as their dad so they appreciated me, someone who didn’t fall down when he came into the house, someone who could be counted on to help out with life’s small snafus such as municipal court summonses, and someone who looked respectable at graduations and championship games, not like he just fell off a bar stool.

 

Johnny expected me to miss the events of his life and somehow, bad luck plagued me when I had something of his to attend. Mary Fran’s kids always knew I would make their events and their confidence in me made me feel confident that nothing would get in the way – and somehow, nothing ever did.

 

So, when I saw Colette and Colleen lying on separate sides of a collapsed wall, and felt the building shaking, it took no thought at all to jump down to them. I somehow knew they’d be counting on me to come to them. I tried to get to Colleen’s side, since there seemed to be slightly more room there but as I stopped briefly midway down, I saw a beam heading down toward Colette and the small girl she was holding close. Colette’s legs were already pinned, I could see from this closer vantage point, so I headed that way, squeezing through the small opening left by the falling beam, which I then shoved further away from Colette and her companions. The lower I went the darker it got and the small flashlight I’d hung from my belt wasn’t providing all that much light.

 

“Colleen!  I’m heading to Colette’s side, sweetie. I’ll get to you next.”

 

“Uncle John...you’re really here?...not a dream?...’Prove it!” Her voice was weak but still had a trace of her usual spirit.

 

“I’m going to kick your ass for getting into this predicament...after I hug you to death for being alive,” I promised her, as proof that it was really me.

 

“You’re you!” She had a coughing spell when she tried laughing.

 

“Stay still and try not to breath any more of this dust in than you need to,” I ordered, finding it easier to focus on small things than on how close they’d obviously come to dying in this tomb of a building. I hoped Colette, who hadn’t said anything, was also in reasonably good shape.

 

I didn’t waste time. The whole time I’d been talking to Colleen, I’d been making my way carefully down to her sister. Once I squeezed in through the small opening that remained, I started to greet Colette, but as soon as I took in the small area illuminated by the flashlight, horror stilled my tongue. An old woman’s body rested a few feet away from Colette and the child, a pipe protruded through her chest. Colette’s body was covered with blood and I couldn’t tell how much was hers and how much belonged to the woman – or the child. I slid down the debris to get to her side. Her eyes were closed. The fallen ceiling had formed a wall between her and Colleen, with only a few tiny gaps that allowed access between the two girls.

 

“Colette, are you conscious, child? It’s Uncle John.”

 

“John...pipe...hurts,” she murmured my name. Her arms tightened around the child. I saw then what looked to be a freshly fallen pipe of the same type as the one I’d moved earlier, it was lying across her lower abdomen; she was shielding the child as best she could with her arms but the full weight was over her pelvis. I reached down and tried to shift it off of her. No luck. I need to get better leverage.

 

“Uncle John?” Colleen’s voice sounded panicked. “Is Colette okay?”

 

“She’s...going to be okay. She’s a bit stuck here but breathing and stable,” I answered. I was lying. I took the time to take her pulse. It was extremely weak and slow. I suspected internal bleeding. But, she was breathing. The child was also. They were both very cold though.

 

“Colleen, hang on for a little bit longer. I left people outside, they’re working to get in.” Luke was a genius engineer, he’d have this building opened up in no time, I reasoned. He’d be pissed off that I came in but it was worth it, if only to give comfort sooner to Colleen, who must be terrified. I continued to chatter to her as I lowered myself down onto the floor of this pit, ready to bench press the pole off of Colette. It was the only way I could see being able to get the leverage I needed.

 

“Okay, Colleen, I’m going to shift this pipe over that seems to have fallen over onto your sister, who’s just out for the count, I don’t think it’s too serious and probably all for the best as it probably hurts like a...well, you know what it hurts like...now, give me a one, two, three, there’s a good girl....”

 

On her feeble count, I pressed the pole up. It struck me that it was probably one of the buildings main support poles, what were they called?  Just as I was getting it positioned to shift over, away from the girls, and the body, I heard an ominous cracking. Looking up, I saw a large section of the remaining roof heading toward us – all of us. I straightened my arms, holding the pole as high as I could get it.

 

“Get as close to the rubble between us as you can,” I yelled to Colleen, relieved to hear rustling that indicated she was moving. I swore something particularly blue as the ceiling hit the pole and it cracked but it formed a type of roof over us, held up by the pole that was held up by my shaking arms.

 

This was one of the few times in my life I wished I was as strong as Luke...or Jamie. Or Matt. Damn, even Danny’s strength might be an improvement over mine right now, I thought as I shuddered under the weight of the rocks and debris that continued to fall down. No, not Danny’s. This required bulk, the kind he and I lacked. Red.  Red had the kind of muscles for this.  And Ben Bruckner. I took some deep breaths to steady myself but that was all I could do. No wind left for chatter now. Colleen must have sensed something was wrong.

 

“Uncle John...are you...are you still there?”

 

I managed to huff out, “Yeah.”  She didn’t ask anything more. Colleen was a smart girl. After a few more minutes, or maybe it was only seconds – time does not fly when you’re holding a ton of crap over your head – I asked, “You okay?”

 

“Could... be better,” was the answer. I would have laughed but I was afraid it would cause me to drop the damn pole which would send who knew what-all down on us.

 

That was about when we heard Red’s voice. Thank God, was my first thought. My second was, where was Luke?  That was when I remembered seeing the little boy heading toward the building when I was on the roof. And Luke taking off after him. Dear Lord, didn’t he catch him before the building started to collapse some more?

 

I didn’t have time to worry. It took everything I had, but I managed to call up to Red once Colleen answered him and alerted him to our presence. Still, I knew he could tell from my voice that something was up. Good. Cos I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to keep it up.

 

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(POV/Luke O’Keefe)

 

I caught up to the little boy just in time to throw both of us to the ground. I shielded him as much as I could with my body, curling my shoulders around him like he was an American football and I’d just been tackled by a good dozen of my cousins. It felt like I’d just had a thousand pounds of O’Keefe land on me by the time the aftershock was over. I’d never thought about it before, but those pick-up games we used to play with my Uncle Frank’s boys were good practice for surviving having a building collapse on you. Shaking five of those two hundred pound plus boys off my back on a regular basis back home made this seem almost...homey. I’d have to remember to tell Red.

 

Assuming I got out of this, I thought, glancing up from my sprawled position and seeing that the clearance was only about eighteen inches above my head.  I jostled my little buddy.

 

“You okay?”

 

He looked at me, all wide eyes and hair. Reminded me of Danny in that way, but with much darker eyes and skin, of course. He answered me in Creole.

 

“Wi, mes!”

 

I ruffled his hair.  “Merite, pa gen pwoblem.” Sure, it was no problem – assuming we could find our way out of here again. He was delighted to find I spoke his language and started chattering a mile a minute. I leaned on my elbow and listened. He was sure that he could lead me to the coffeeshop area, which is where he was sure his grandparents and sister, along with the giant girls, would be since they were there when the earthquake hit.  There was a cellar, running underneath the lobby to coffeeshop. The two areas were connected by a trapdoor in each. That sounded hopeful. I told him he could take me to it.

 

We had to crawl. Twice we came to dead bodies and young Luc clung to me. I had him get on my back, that way I could tell him when to hide his eyes. In this manner, we made it to the trapdoor that led to the storage area. It was fairly heavy, which no doubt explained why the child could not get inside on his own. I imagined that it would have provided a better refuge than the streets.

 

No sooner did the thought pass through my brain as I was lowering myself into the darkness below ground, the child on my back, than a couple things happened at once.

 

Luc yelled, “Atansyon!”

 

A gun went off.

 

And I realized that just because a small boy had not been able to take refuge in the storage cellar of the hotel did not mean no one had.

 

The bullet ricocheted off my rib, the next one hit my radio. All things considered, I preferred them hitting my ribs.  I dropped down low and scanned the room quickly. Seeing some barrels behind me to the left, I rolled that way, pulling Luc into my arms and shielding him from the bullets that continued to fly.

 

“Colonel Micah MacNeill,” I shouted, “British Alliance. I’m here to help.” I repeated the phrase in Creole and then in French and Spanish. The bullets continued, hitting the barrels.

 

Fuck this. I could feel Luc trembling.

 

“Ou byen?” I asked him, as I took my gun out and released the safety. He nodded, his eyes even larger in the dark.  I smiled at him. “This is where I get rid of the bad guys,” I assured him. I said it in English, just in case our trigger happy friends had keen hearing, but Luc understood. He gave me a wide grin. Red would love this kid.

 

I hated killing but I really hated people who put little kids at risk. I peered out. Five scruffy looking men.  I was glad they weren’t boys. I shot one in the arm, causing him to drop his gun with a foul curse. His buddy stood up to see where I was. I got him in his arm and leg. He went down screaming. I stood up then to lure the other three. Two of them came at me in a rush. I slammed them together, using Red’s patented move, the one Peter loved so much where you knocked their heads together to knock them out. He never ceased to be amused by that maneuver.

 

That left one. He shot at me, barely missing my head as I could feel the heat of the bullet as it whizzed past. I didn’t pause but went straight for him. Grabbing him by both wrists, I lifted him high. He dropped his gun and started begging for mercy.

 

“Like you showed us?” I growled. I heard a scrabbling noise at my feet and was startled. I could have sworn none of those men was in any condition to pose further threat.

 

They weren’t. It was little Luc. He was holding the dropped gun with fire in his eyes, pointing it at the man I was holding. He was seconds from shooting.

 

“Pa kounye.”  Not now, I told him gently. I clipped the remaining man on the side of his jaw, hard enough to knock him out and threw him against the wall where he lay, slumped crookedly. I held out my hand for the gun.

 

Luc looked at me, his eyes still filled with something that no one that young should ever experience. I knelt down and opened my arms. He fell against me, crying. I ignored the pain in my side, the fact that I was no doubt needed in a half dozen other places but especially on the outside, helping John look for Franny’s girls. For now, I held this little Haitian boy and let him cry for all that he’d lost. I hoped we’d be able to find something of his old life worth salvaging from this wreckage.

 

“Come. We have to go on,” I told him when his tears slowed to a few intermittent sobs and hiccups. He lifted his head, wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded. I engaged the safety on the gun from the fifth man, but after a moment’s thought, tucked it into the boy’s pocket.

 

He might need it. I’d get Red to show him how to use it later. His big smile of relief told me that my instinct was correct. Life on the street gave a boy reason to need a gun – we’d give him lessons on how to use it responsibly.

 

We walked through the cellar, the boy grabbing some food as we went. Poor kid, he looked like he was half starved.  He also handed me some dish towels and pointed to my side. I’d forgotten I was bleeding like a stuck pig. Luc had knotted the towels together to make a bandage big enough to go around me. I thanked him and tied it in place. No sense losing more blood than necessary. Peter would appreciate my being so unusually conscientious, I thought, amused.

 

Getting to the other trapdoor, I was unable to lift it at first. It was blocked by something on the other side.  I pushed as hard as I could but the damn thing didn’t budge. Seeing Luc’s anxious face, I smiled at him cheerfully, as I looked around for something to use as a tool.

 

“Don’t worry,” I told him. “There ain’t a door yet that I can’t bash my way through. We’ll get through.”

 

Finding a shovel in the corner, I set about doing exactly that.

 

I was able to break away the door easily enough but all I found was a solid wall of fallen debris, presumably from the second floor. Luc was back to looking worried. I grinned at him encouragingly.

 

“Pa gen pwoblem.”

 

As I assured him it would be no problem, my mind was turning over how to get us out of this cellar and into the section of the hotel we needed to get into. Dimly, I heard voices. Jamming the handle of the shovel through a spot that looked likely, I managed to break a small hole through to open space.

 

“Hurry, Red...can’t hold...much longer.”

 

That was Jackie. He sounded desperate. With a roar, I pushed against the blockage, moving it aside like so many dominoes. As I hoisted myself up, I held a hand down to Luc, who scrambled up by my side.

 

The coffeeshop looked like a battlefield. There were bodies and wreckage strewn throughout.

 

“Papi!”  Luc cried out and tried to run toward the body of an older man lying in front of a counter. I grabbed him by his collar and pulled him close to me. I could tell from where we were that it was too late for his grandfather. I held the little guy close as I crouched down low, trying to see through to where John might be.

 

A girl was lying near the end of this section, which sloped down due to the fallen roof and second floor. She was pinned by a bunch of debris but there was a heavy section hanging above her, sort of sloped down, just missing where she was. I could just see the dark hair but from the length of her body I was sure it was one of Franny’s girls.

 

I hesitated. I’m ashamed to say it, but I did, not sure if she was awake or what. But looking closer, I could see her leg was twisted, no doubt broken, and I heard Red calling down to John to hold on just a little longer. What the fuck was I doing waiting?

 

I told Luc to stay where he was but he wouldn’t let go of me. Glancing at the unstable roof above us, he was probably safer with me so I had him cling to my chest like a baby possum as I crawled over to the girl. 

 

I made my way through the rubble, crawling around the body of a young man who looked to be American from his clothes. Probably should let them know I was here, I decided.

 

“Hang on, Jack, I’m almost there,” I yelled. The girl turned her head and startled green eyes met mine.

 

“Uncle Luke?” she whispered in a hoarse little voice before closing her eyes.

 

“Well, that gets that out of the way.” I looked up and saw Red overhead. He was straining to hold up a section of what looked like the floor. “Would you mind getting your ass over here. Jack is bench pressing some sorta lolly column and I’m merely relieving a little of the pressure. We could use a little help before this whole damn crackerjack box comes down on our heads.”

 

I couldn’t help grinning like a fool. I loved that idiot.

 

“Give me a sec, I’ll be right there,” I told him. “But you’d be better off taking the lolly column off Jack and using it to hold up that bit of building there.”

 

“That’s what makes you the engineer and me the good-looking one,” Red grumbled.

 

“Luke...jokes...later...help...now,” Jack was gasping. I wasn’t just joking with Red; I’d been moving the whole time. Getting over to where Colleen was, I saw that he was using the lolly to brace the wall that had collapsed from the second floor and keep it from the girls and a little girl who was held by Colette. Luc, who peeked through a gap in the fallen section that separated the girls, cried out, “Miyole!” He tried scrambling over but I pushed him down.

 

“Almost done,” I promised him. “Preske.” 

 

His big eyes begged me, “Prese! Prese!”

 

I nodded. I planned on hurrying. I could see that Jack’s face was red with the strain of the load he was holding. Even with Red helping, it was more than he could handle much longer. It was a miracle he’d managed as long as he did. I spoke softly to him as I made a few adjustments, crawling over to the right spot, checking the stability of the sides. Then, just when Jack started to give out, I took the weight off him, lifting the lolly column back up slowly, the wall creaking as I moved it.

 

“Quick now, move four of them over to where I broke through from the cellar. There’s an underground cellar there that is safer than here. This won’t hold through another aftershock.”

 

Red had dropped down beside me as I spoke. He glanced at my side and at the bullet damaged radio.

 

“We encountered a little trouble in the cellar,” I said briefly. “It’s been neutralized but it did damage my radio. Jack, you hurt?”

 

Jack seemed unable to sit up. I looked at him concerned. He shook his head and with a grimace, managed to move into a semi-upright position.

 

“Colette has not regained consciousness since I’ve been here. I’m not sure how safe it will be to move her,” he told Red and me. Luc was staring at the older woman who was impaled on a pike – she must have died early on from the looks of her corpse.

 

“Luc, we need your help, lad,” I told him. Can you take big Red here to the other door, show him the way out, past those bad guys we took care of before?”

 

The distraction worked. Puffing his chest out, Luc nodded. He patted the gun in his pocket and assured us he was ready.

 

“I have a crane on the way and a bigger team of workers,” Red said. He’d been doing a quick exam of Colette and the little girl. “She’s got a broken pelvis at the very least, Luke, no doubt internal bleeding and a host of other injuries. I don’t think we should be moving her without a stretcher at the very least. How is the other one?”

 

“You can check, I’m no medic but I saw a badly broken leg at a minimum and possibly other fractures, head injury, along with the dehydration. The little girl looks to be in the best shape. Probably just hungry and thirsty. And tired. I’d wake them up to pour water into them but the twins must be in a shitload of pain. I don’t know if we can wait for stretchers, Red. Jack, can you crawl to get out of here?”

 

“I’m not leaving them,” he told me. Which wasn’t an answer, really, but I guess it was.

 

“Use your radio, Red, find out if the crane is here, and if so, put me on with whoever they sent with it. We’re going to have to take the top off this building, such as it is.”

 

Looking down at Colette, I added, “And then put English on – we need to find out what we can do to stabilize them, just in case we have to move them through the cellar.”

 

Finally, I grumbled, “And give Jack a painkiller, will you? He looks like death.”

 

To my surprise, John smiled at me, a kind of half smile, and leaned forward to grab Red’s backpack.

 

“Tell you what. I’ll get us each a painkiller, since I’m assuming that blood dripping down your side means you must hurt at least a little bit, and then I’ll see what I can find to maybe stop it from bleeding before you pass out on us.”

 

“Thanks,” I said, surprised.

 

“No problem – I know I don’t want to go back to holding that damn thing up,” he retorted.

 

Even in such a hellish place as a collapsed building with seriously injured and dead people all around, Redraven can let out the loudest laugh in creation. I just shook my head, but I knew, deep down, that I’d never change a thing about him. From the slight twitch of Jack’s lips, I suspected he felt the same way.

 

**********************

 

(Setting: Haiti; January 17^th; POV/Peter Linton)

 

I collapsed wearily onto the cot in our tent. I’d just returned from the U.S.S. Comfort, the medical ship where Colette O’Keefe underwent surgery. The poor girl required a hysterectomy ultimately; there was so much damage done internally. One of her kidneys and her spleen were also removed, but it was the loss of the ability to bear children in a family such as hers that was expected to be most traumatic. Her mother was on board the ship; she would be taken back to the mainland as soon as she was stable enough to fly. Danny, Mark and Matt had come down with Mary Frances. Jo Chanders had come down also. She and Matt were staying as volunteers while it was planned that John and Danny would fly back with Mary Frances and the girls.

                                                                                   

Colleen was not as badly injured as her twin but she had not escaped unscathed. Her left leg was very badly damaged, all the more so because of her repeated trips to get water – the water that may have saved her sister’s and the little girl’s lives. She showed remarkable courage and strength, and she was going to need both in the days ahead as she underwent therapy and rehabilitation on her leg, which had been broken in three spots, two of the fractures having broken through the skin. The doctors were not skilled enough here in Haiti to do such delicate work so she had been flown back to Pittsburgh immediately. Mark had accompanied her, though each of her uncles had vied for the chance. She had insisted that her mother stay with Colette, who was too weak to fly that distance. 

 

There had been a moment, before she left, when Colleen had asked to speak to me alone. I had felt fairly confident interacting with the girl as a physician at the rescue site and afterward, sure that she would not know me. Luke had told me of her brief moment of recognition and we’d talked about how to “handle” it should it come up. But it had not.

 

Until it did, in the most unexpected way. I’d walked into the sterile room, not quite knowing what to expect. The twins had been permitted a common hospital room on the ship and had it to themselves despite the incredible overcrowding. I had not been in the room previously while either twin had been awake. Most of my supervision of their care over the past forty-eight hours had been done quietly, behind the scenes. But somehow, this chit had found out my name and had asked for Major Silver to come see her – in private – at his earliest convenience. I was perturbed...but also slightly amused. Not an unusual reaction to an O’Keefe.

 

“Miss O’Keefe? I understand you requested an interview with me?” My manner was its frostiest. She was unbowed, and gave me a friendly smile despite the pain that showed plainly on her face. I frowned.

 

“Oh, please do not frown at me. I did not mean to take you away from your important work and I will not be long getting to my point,” she said charmingly. She reminded me of a young Angel. I had to smile back at her.

 

“I beg your pardon, I was not frowning at you, child. If I appear displeased, it was because you appear to be in pain. Are your doctors not giving you adequate pain medication?”

 

She’d made a face. “I don’t like to take pills.”

 

I was sympathetic. “In this case, admirable as that is, you must allow yourself the relief of the pain medication. Your body needs to heal and it does so better when not in pain. You need to stay ahead of the pain. The doctors will not allow you to become addicted. Come now, what are you to take?”

 

“I have this thing to press,” she’d confessed. “And I can call the nurse if I need more.”

 

“Press it then if you are in pain,” I’d instructed her firmly and waited for her to do so. I felt those self medicating devices were useless. The stoics wouldn’t use them and the addicts used them until they delivered just placebo beeps.

 

“Please, sit down,” she’d invited me. I did so, glancing over at her sister who appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

 

“How is your sister doing?” I’d inquired. 

 

Colleen looked over at her twin and smiled fondly. “Colette is a trooper. She’ll be fine. My mom will have a hard time coping but Colette will deal just peachy. She never...well, this is something she’ll be able to deal with.”

 

I’d suspected she’d been about to say her sister had not wanted children but had decided that was not her confidence to share. Instead, she’d shifted so as to sit slightly more upright and looked me in the eye to say, “So, is it a secret that my Uncle Luke is alive?”

 

I’d managed to keep a perfectly expressionless face while my mind raced, trying to determine what would be the proper response to that question. She’d had the audacity to grin at me, and the resemblance to her Aunt Angel was truly remarkable at that moment.

 

“Too late, Doctor. If you didn’t know anything about my Uncle Luke, you would have said, what Luke, or Luke who?  A deadpan is an asset under most circumstances but it is definitely not the right expression to greet such an outrageous comment as I just made – wouldn’t you agree, Dr. Main?”

 

I felt a bit flummoxed, but I hadn’t been an Alliance operative – not to mention Edward Simon’s lackey – for as long as I was without learning a bit about bluffing. I smiled at young Miss O’Keefe and said, “You’re really a bit off with that one, love, but what is it you think you know about your Uncle Luke?”

 

“I saw him...in the hotel. He was coming toward me.”

 

“In the dust and rubble,” I’d nodded agreeably.

 

“Yes! Like a giant, he was standing on the far side of the coffeeshop, beyond the rubble, actually, and I heard him....” She’d frowned.

 

“Go on, what happened next,” I’d asked her, most encouragingly.

 

“Well, he must have come and helped Uncle John, who was having trouble holding the pole thing up. It was really heavy.”

 

“Yes, I’m sure it was. You do know that Major Redraven came to your rescue, don’t you? Your Uncle Luke’s dearest friend?”  I’d felt like such a cad as I’d watched the flicker of doubt in her eyes grow.

 

“I know Red...Uncle Red is very tall, of course, but....” The poor child had fallen silent then. She’d looked up at me. “Uncle Danny had told me that Uncle Luke was very good friends with a British doctor – George Main – who had come to the Babylon Benefit. You look a good bit like him. His eyes, they were like yours. I know they were! And your voice!”

 

Quick, think Peter. I’d had to come up with something. “I’m from a branch of the Mainwarings. I believe the man you speak of also came from that family. We’re known for our gray eyes and fair coloring but I don’t believe he was as fair, if I am remembering the correct man.”

 

No, as George Main I’d dyed my ash blond hair brown for almost twenty years, so one could say George wasn’t as fair.

 

“So...you’re saying I didn’t see my Uncle Luke rise from the dead to rescue my sister and me?”

 

“I’m saying that your Uncle John risked his life going into that hotel and it was he, with the help of Steven Redraven, who helped save you, but you both did quite well keeping yourselves alive to be saved.”

 

Green eyes had looked deep into mine. “Uncle John and Uncle Red certainly saved us...but I believe that it was Uncle Luke who saved them...and for some reason, you won’t...or can’t...admit that.  Fair enough. But if you see him, would you tell him thank you for us? And tell him we miss him and wish he would come home?”

 

I’d held my silence for a long moment, just staring into those green eyes, which suddenly seemed wise beyond their years.  Finally, I’d answered.  “If I were ever to see your Uncle Luke, young Miss O’Keefe, you can be sure that is a message that I would impress upon him.”

 

So, now I waited back in our tent. Luke was out somewhere, working with the teams who continued to search for survivors, smoothing over disputes, doing all the things he did best. I must have dozed off because it was dark when next I woke. I was disoriented at first, but the soft stroking of long fingers through my hair soothed me.

 

“You’re back,” I said, rather stupidly. Luke chuckled softly, then bent and kissed me on the lips. 

 

“I missed you,” he said. “I was down by the pier, moving some tires out of the way and the strangest thing, as a copter took off from the medical ship, I would have sworn it dipped down toward me and someone waved a green scarf or something in the window. Weird, huh?”

 

“Certainly odd. Maybe it was an admirer – did you have your shirt off?” I forced a smile.

 

“I always work with my shirt off,” he said, grinning. “Anyway, it was strange. Gave me the willies. Mama would have said a goose walked over my grave. So I came back here to have you love them away.”

 

I pulled him close and kissed him – hard.  He laughed and fell back onto the cot and managed to lift me above him so that I was stretched out along his length.

“I hope this cot is strong enough for the two of us,” he murmured.

 

“Luke....”

 

“Hmm”

 

“We need to talk.”

 

“We can talk...after we make love.”

 

“Luke....”

 

I pinned his roving hands above his head. His eyes gleamed with such anticipation I hated to disappoint him – but I had to discuss this.

 

“I think you need to let your family know you are alive.”

 

It was as if all the life drained out of him. His face closed off and he shoved me off him. I think he would have left the tent except his way was blocked by John and Red.

 

“Luke...” John’s face was nakedly pleading. I’d never seen that proud man look so vulnerable. Red had his hands on John’s shoulders, giving him his support, in a surprising turn of allegiance. Luke must have seen it that way too because he glanced from one to the other of us as though trapped.

 

“Are you all against me on this?”

 

“It isn’t a question of being for or against you, Luke,” Red answered, no joking in his voice for once. “It’s a question of what’s the right thing for you to do.”

 

“I can’t,” Luke whispered. John walked up to him and wrapped his arms around him tightly as he looked up to him.

 

“I can’t go on lying to everyone, Luke. I just can’t. I understand if you can’t come back now...I hope it won’t be forever. But, please...release me from the promise I made. Let me tell them you’re alive. And when you’re ready, if you’re ever ready, I promise you, you’ll be welcomed home.”

 

I think we were all holding our breath as Luke looked down at John. Danny had not made this request, maybe because he knew that Luke would never willingly deny him anything and he’d been concerned that this was beyond Luke’s capacity to grant. Maybe it wasn’t as important to Danny – he had Luke back now and that was enough for him.

 

Unlike Danny, John had never really asked anything of Luke, and I could see that he was braced for rejection. Seeing his “perfect” brother looking so battered and worn – this trip had taken a lot out of him and he’d been far from his best for some time, ever since the kidnapping – I couldn’t see how Luke could say no.

 

“Tell them,” was his answer, finally, the words breathed out, barely a whisper. John sagged in relief.  “But,” Luke added, his voice gaining strength as he shook John slightly, “I’m not coming home...yet.”

 

“I understand,” John said, looking relieved to have this much agreed. “Probably just as well. I’ll have to let them rant awhile.”

 

Red laughed. “That’ll take at least a year.”

 

Luke looked guilty. “I’m sorry, Jack. If I could, I would, but....”

 

John waved his hand. “I’m used to them being angry at me, that’s not a big deal. Maybe I’ll finally come visit Scotland if it gets too bad. Promise me you’ll keep that place secret from all of them?”

 

Luke looked positively panicked at the thought. “Hell, yeah.”

 

As Red started teasing him about his hundred or so nieces and nephews wanting to visit, John stepped outside the tent to answer a phone call on his mobile. He had managed to get it charged while on the medical ship. He had a short exchange with someone, then came back in looking...well, it was hard to describe quite how he looked. He dropped down onto his cot.

 

“Bad news?” I asked.

 

His eyes flicked over to me. “No...not really. Just that it’s just as well that Luke decided to let me tell the family he’s alive...since two of them happened to see him hauling tires, shirtless, down by the pier and took a picture which is now making the rounds of the family.”

 

We all stared at Luke who was blushing bright red.

 

Red’s barking laugh was surely heard all the way to Cuba.