After The Last Full Measure (AU)

[Poohbah]

August 18th, 1990
Provo, UT

Sophie gave Josh a hug and said, "Welcome to our home."

Marianne waved from the kitchen. "Hello again! Let me get this to the table."

Mantell said, "It smells delicious."

"Chicken kebab and potato salad, with an apple cobbler for desert."

"Sounds wonderful."

Over dinner, Josh told Sophie and Marianne what had happened, and the decision to move him to BYU.

"And I'm kind of glad Uncle Sam arranged that. Just being in a new place is helping me."

Marianne raised an eyebrow, and Josh said, "I don't have any family left aside from my sister, and she's already planning to move up to Orange County. Too many of my friends are gone. My wife is gone." He sighed. "And my brain works by locations more than anything else. That's how I organize my memories, so most of San Diego County is like a mausoleum for me."

Marianne nodded. "I understand that. I know that folks doing New Year's resolutions will say 'new year, new me,' and that usually doesn't work, because that's not how any of us are really wired. But for you, a new place is a chance to make new memories." She smiled. "So, what do you think of BYU?"

"It's a fine school."

"And the code of conduct?"

"I will abide by it."

Sophie chuckled. "That's why I'm getting my master's at University of Utah."

Marianne asked, "But you're just going to abide by it?"

"I promised that I would, and therefore I will."

Marianne sighed. "That's so wonderfully old-fashioned . . . and I wish it were a new-fangled trend."

* * *

Sophie and Marianne snuggled together in their bed.

Sophie asked, "So, what do you think?"

Marianne said, "He's ruggedly handsome, he has good notions of masculinity and honor . . . honestly, I might have a little bit of a crush."

Sophie started giggling.

"Sophie, you're supposed to be outraged and jealous. Not amused."

Sophie felt herself laughing all the harder as she tried to restrain it.

"Oh, Marianne . . . I had such a crush on him in junior high!"

Marianne asked, "Seriously?"

Sophie nodded, trying to hold in the giggles, and failing.

Soon both women were laughing.

Finally, Sophie kissed Marianne and said, "God, I love you."

Marianne returned the kiss. "I love you, too, darling." She smiled. "Once he's finished grieving, we're going to have to fix him up."

"Oh, Lordy. I'm not sure I can do that."

"Oh, don't worry, Utah has it down to a science. You set up a blind date, and if he asks anything about how she looks, you simply say 'she has a sweet spirit.' Easy-peasey."

* * *

September 4th, 1990
AEROSPACE 100 Class
AFROTC Detachment 855
Brigram Young University
Provo, UT

"Good morning, class! I am Colonel Douglas MacKenzie, United States Air Force, and this is Aerospace 100, which is a survey course that will introduce you to the United States Air Force and the basics of being an Air Force officer. This course, the accompanying leadership lab, and the physical training courses are required to continue in the AFROTC program. If you are not enrolled in all three elements, it would behoove you to add and drop courses as necessary. Failure to maintain full AFROTC status will get you academically released from BYU, and your local draft board will be notified of your change in status. 'Nuff said about that.

"You may notice that there is a Major sitting in the front row. Major Mantell, if you would be so kind as to stand up, please?"

Mantell stood and faced the class.

MacKenzie said, "Major Mantell served as a Marine for most of the war; he transferred to the Air Force during the preparation for the assault on Cuba. He will be going into Air Force Special Operations. Right now, he's dual-hatted as a AFROTC student . . . and as the Detachment Executive Officer. I expect him to set the standard; and I will expect all of you to meet that standard. So, yes, I am demanding a lot. You will learn to be worthy of leading men and women of Major Mantell's caliber. Deal with it."

6 September 1990
Smith Fieldhouse
Brigham Young University


Mantell said, "Good morning, cadets!"

There was a ragged reply of "Good morning, sir."

"Let's try that one more time, with FEELING, please! Good morning, cadets!"

"GOOD MORNING, SIR!"

"Much better! So, first things first, we're going to start off with the Daily 7, and then we're going to do a nice, easy formation run."

* * *

Mantell looked over the groaning, wheezing cadets and sighed.

"How many of you intend to seek pilot's wings?"

Almost everyone raised their hand.

"How of you many want fighters?"

No hands lowered.

Mantell nodded. "All right, then. Y'all better work out on your own on top of what we do here, or none of you are going to make it to fighters. Flying fighters requires outstanding physical fitness; just moving your head under max Gs means you're moving about 120 pounds of weight. Leadership requires it as well. As officers, you're going to be expected to set the example in everything--in military bearing and appearance, physical fitness, professional development, and work ethic alike.

"I'm not dumping on you. I'm telling you that it's going to be an arduous journey to get to where you will need to be to have a shot at your dream. I'm also telling you that, with disciplined effort, you can all get there, and most importantly, I really want you to get there. I want all of you to have the best possible shot at achieving your professional goals. We're going to set intermediate goals, and I'm going to push you to meet them. Physical fitness is but one requirement, but like all of the requirements, it's non-negotiable. As Yoda put it, 'Do, or do not. There is no try.' And as my former branch of service put it, 'Nobody ever drowned in sweat.' So, I'm releasing you for the day. Think about what I said, and vow to work on your weak spots. As for me, I'm going to do my own workout. Y'all are free to watch."

* * *

17 October 1990

Captain Robin Krasner said, "All right, class, who can tell me the top ribbon on Major Mantell's rack?"

A female cadet raised her hand. "Cadet Nielsen."

"Ma'am, if I'm reading the chart and Major Mantell's ribbons correctly, that's the Air Force Cross."

"And the one just below it?"

"That's the Silver Star, ma'am, and I believe he has a second award."

Krasner nodded. "You are correct. Yes, one of your fellow students--who happens to be the detachment XO--is a genuine American hero."

Mantell said, "Cap'n, let's get something straight: I just did what I had to do."

* * *

18 October 1990

Krasner knocked on the door to Mantell's office. "Uh, sir?"

"Come in, Captain. What's on your mind?"

Krasner sighed. "I really shouldn't have singled you out like that."

"What's done is done, Captain Krasner. It was going to come up at some point." He paused, then said, "I wear them for those who didn't make it home."

Krasner nodded. "Look, I'm a Chairborne Ranger, I spent the war flying a desk at the Vandenberg Basic Military Training camp and the West Coast CSP School."

"Important job. Wars chew through people rapid-fire, Captain. Those airmen you graduated kept guard posts manned and wrenches turning." He sighed. "I packed up a lot of Marines' personal effects and sent them to their next of kin, I wrote a lot of letters to parents and spouses."

"Sir . . . you seem to know leadership like you were born to it."

Mantell chuckled. "Some of that was my father. He went to the Naval Academy in 1944, graduated in 1947--the wartime classes were done in three years, and he was in the last one--and served 33 years, retired as a Captain. He taught me the basics--good character, integrity, personal courage, physical and moral alike. The Marines then demanded that I assume more responsibilities during the war. And then I was leading the JTAC training for GABLE COTTONMOUTH, the Cuban POW rescue."

"Any advice for me?"

"Know the Air Force inside and out, be a person of integrity, and set the standard. There's no such thing as bad airmen. They'll perform at whatever level you choose to set by your example."

Krasner was quiet a long moment before finally saying, "Thank you, sir."

[Johnnie Lyle]

One happy ending.

Marriage is a beginning, not an ending.

[Poohbah]

November 22nd, 1990
Salt Lake City, UT

The door opened, and Larissa Henrix smiled with delight. "Josh! Come in, come in!"

She gave Josh a hug, and he smiled. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Don't 'ma'am' me, young man! Make me think I'm an old lady."

"My parents instilled old-school manners in me, Mrs. Henrix."

"And it's well that they did. Right this way!"

Sophie and Marianne waved from the dining room, where they were setting the table. Josh returned it.

Mr. Henrix was tending the turkey in the oven, and he pointed to the sink. "Get in there and scrub those potatoes, chop them up, and get them into the pot per the mashed potatoes recipe."

"Hoo-ah, sir!"

"And he has espect for his elders."

Mantell started work. After a few minutes, Mr. Henrix put the turkey back into the oven and worked on the gravy.

"How are you doing, Josh?"

"Day by day, sir."

Henrix nodded. "All you can do. Look, you ever need to talk, call me, we'll set up lunch."

"Thank you, sir, that does mean a lot."

* * *

Mr. Henrix said, "Josh, I'll understand if you don't want to speak up--"

Josh held up a hand and said, "I'm good, sir."

He paused, then said, "Lord God, this has been a challenging year for me--even more challenging than the war ever was. Thank You for not giving me more than I can handle. I further thank You for the support of old friends, for connecting me to strangers who have become new friends, for Chaplain Butler and Pastor Fluegel for their wise counsel and support, for the faculty and staff at BYU and Detachment 855 who have taught and mentored me, and for the cadets whose instruction and development I've been entrusted with. Most of all, Lord, thank You for the dawn of each day, and every other reminder that, while Roberta's journey has ended, mine is still ongoing."

There was a long, comfortable silence around the table.

Marianne said, "Thank You, God, for bringing Sophie into my life, and letting us begin our journey together. Thank You for the wonderful team at Utah Valley Hospital, and for the opportunities to grow professionally You've given me. Thank you for the love and support of Sophie's parents, and thank You for Josh's friendship."

Sophie said, "Thank You, God, for bringing Marianne into my life, and for the opportunity to work at Novell. Thank you for giving me two loving and supportive parents. Thank You for granting Josh a new life and a way forward."

Larissa Henrix said, "Thank you, God, for the gift of a daughter and a daughter-in-law, for meaningful work on behalf of America, and for the blessings of community and friends."

Charles Henrix said, "Lord, I thank You that the peace is holding, that we can continue to work on rebuilding this nation, and for the freedoms Sophie and Josh fought so valiantly to defend. I thank You that we have a blue star in our window, when so many have one or more of gold; I thank you for Josh's presence at our table as a reminder and a sign of the friends and community we left in San Diego."

* * *

Larissa Henrix took her daughter aside as Charles and Ken did the dishes.

"Something's bugging you."

Sophie sighed. "Mom . . . it's Josh. He's delivering the football to the Holiday Bowl."

"Why would that worry you?"

"He's delivering it by freefall parachute jump." Sophie sighed, then said, "Mom, he grew up just up the hill from the stadium. He and his family would watch the KGB Skyshow fireworks from their back yard. He's lost so much . . . not just Roberta, but his parents, his brother, and so many friends . . . and yet he's going to be performing a somewhat risky task practically right over the old neighborhood. When I asked him about it, he just gave me the 'I'm good to go' answer, and I can tell there's something preoccupying him."

"You don't think he's good to go?"

Sophie rolled her eyes, and her mother poked her. Her voice was mock-stern. "Don't you roll your eyes at me, young lady!"

"Mom . . . I just don't know. If I was convinced he was good to go, I wouldn't be so worried about it. Now, you're an analyst read in on a lot of AFSOC programs, but there are some things you'll never understand unless you do it. HALO jumps require your full attention. When you're falling at two miles a minute, that is not the time to be meditating on your sorrows."

"Point taken. Maybe you need to ask him directly. Operator to operator, as you always put it. And push the issue."

* * *

She found Josh sitting in the back yard, savoring the snow.

"For a San Diego boy, you've sure gotten used to winter weather."

Mantell said, "There's something . . . purifying, almost, about snow. Like God is cleaning the earth and preparing it for a new round of life."

Sophie nodded. "Maybe there is something to that. Walk with me?"

They walked together to the neighborhood park, and Sophie said, "Josh, I'm worried about this jump you're doing."

"How so?"

"There's something else going on in your head, Josh. You're going back to the old neighborhood."

Mantell nodded. "Guilty as charged. Remember Becks Halstead?"

Sophie nodded. "Class of '81, right? I helped her get prepped for her trig finals, because she needed the units to pass her math requirement."

"Yup, that's her. She graduated BYU just in time to get drafted, and the Army looked at her cute face and history degree and put her on the Armed Forces Network."

"She was on TV as an infobabe for the Army?"

"No, she was a radio DJ. Well, she's back at BYU, getting a Master's in Broadcast Journalism. And she's putting together a project around the jump. I'm jumping with a helmet camera. It's going to go live--assuming everything works. And she's done some interviews with me already, and we're doing some shoots in San Diego during the pregame festivities."

Sophie asked, "For God's sake, why?"

"Sophie . . . I ran away from San Diego. And looking back, that was probably what I needed to do in May of 1990. But it's now December, and I realize that I need to face those ghosts squarely if I'm going to find the full measure of peace, and be able to face my future with a clear mind and a ready heart."

"Are you sure that doing that in connection with a HALO jump is a good idea?"

"If not now, when? And I know I can compartmentalize things well enough."

Sophie considered this for a moment, then said, "All right. But the price tag for me being okay with this is that I keep a close eye on you for the next month."

"Deal." Josh held up his hand, pinkie extended. "Pinky swear I'm good."

Sophie linked her pinkie in his. "Pinkie swear I'm looking out for you."

"I know you are, my friend. Thank you."

[jemhouston]

Congratulations, you now me scared.

[Poohbah]

November 26th, 1990
ROTC Detachment 855
Brigham Young University

Marva Bevington stuck her head in Josh's office. "Major? A Lieutenant Miller is here to see you regarding the parachute jump."

"Send her in, please."

Alicia Miller was a tall brunette with piercing blue eyes. Freefall wings and a dive bubble showed on her camouflage blouse. Mantell stood as she marched to the desk. She halted and saluted.

"Sir, Lieutenant Miller reports!"

Mantell returned the salute, then said, "At ease and have a seat."

After they were seated, Josh said, "Sophie asked you to keep an eye on me?"

Miller said, "Yes, sir."

"Well, she trusts you, and I would trust her with my money and my life, so I trust you."

Miller said, "Thanks, sir. That makes this easier. There's also another reason: the Air Force public affairs team wants me to jump with you, to get some air-to-air shots for the broadcast. This is the first college football bowl game since the Armistice, and all eyes are on San Diego."

Mantell nodded. "All right. So we need to practice formation work. The good news is that we have access to a couple of creeper boards so we can work it."

"Well, first thing I need to do is review your logbook."

Mantell turned around and grabbed his logbook, then passed it to Miller.

She looked it over. "Wow. You had three practice jumps after the freefall course before Cuba? That's three more than I had when I did my first jump into Colorado Springs in '86. What a difference winning the war makes. Okay, combat jump into Cuba . . . I was at Camp 26, outside Matanzas. You know that new Star Trek episode with the guys who say, "We look for things, things that make us go?" Yeah, imagine those idiots trying to shoot it out with an AFSOC assault team. It was like the junior Pop Warner kids against the 1970s Steelers dynasty." She smiled. "So where did you jump?"

"Santiago de Las Vegas, the MOD secondary interrogation center."

"Wait. You're the guy who snagged Fidel Castro?"

Mantell chuckled. "Really, he just kinda delivered himself into my custody. I'd rather be lucky than good any day."

Miller nodded. "And then you managed to wipe out the one force that could've stopped the assault at Jose Marti." She snorted. "And all you got out of it was an Air Force Cross? I'm telling you, there ain't no justice."

Miller continued flipping through the logbook. "You're being more than proficient. Lots more jumps than I'd expect from a guy in an admin billet. What's your secret?"

"I'm working with Delta Company, 1-184 Infantry, Utah National Guard--they're 1-184's heavy weapons company. 1-184 got stood up as an airborne task force in '88, and they got parked in the Guard after the ceasefire. There's noises about making a National Guard Airborne Brigade sometime in the next few years, 1-184 is authorized to jump for proficiency, the Utah Guard Bureau wants them ready to roll when the time comes, and the Air Force approved of me working with them. I'm hoping to attend Jumpmaster School on the summer break."

* * *

Miller asked, "All right, go/no-go criteria for the jump?"

"Winds measured at the top of Jack Murphy Stadium must be consistently less than 15 knots for at least an hour prior to the jump, with no forecast increase. 'Consistently' means that the absolute peak gusts are under 15 knots. If there's any wind at all, there's going to be some turbulence as I come down past the light riser ring, and then even more when I enter the main bowl of the stadium way up in the nosebleed seats. I must also have at least 2,000 feet unimpeded visibility vertically and horizontally, but that is a bare minimum at the ground, and if we don't have a solid visual on the drop zone, we say 'no go,' and abort to NAS Miramar."

She nodded. "Very good. What's your overall plan?"

"Given the guidance from Headquarters USAF and the Holiday Bowl sponsors, they want a lot of hang time and video from both of us for both the Jumbotron in the stadium and the television audience. So, the plan is that we dress to go out at high altitude--long johns, face gaiters, and gloves taped in place--pre-breathe for one hour prior to drop time to purge nitrogen out of our systems, and we will be on bottled oxygen when the cabin depressurizes at 30,000 feet MSL. We perform final gear checks, get a good visual on the stadium--we will be headed either east if it's a typical day in San Diego, or west if there's a Santa Ana. Note that our odds of canceling the jump increase significantly if there's a Santa Ana--gusts over 15 knots are fairly common in those conditions. We jump over the stadium, stabilize in box man, and you fly to approximately 210 degrees relative, guiding on me so your helmet camera gets a good visual of me flying the jump. As I'm flying the jump, I'm also getting good video of the stadium getting bigger. We fly to a 3,000 MSL parachute release altitude, pull, and then steer to land lengthwise relative to the field. My touchdown target is the 50 yard line, you're aiming for the 30 yard line behind me. On landing, we collapse the chutes prontissimo, get out of our jump rigs, don appropriate headgear, and get ready to salute the colors during the National Anthem."

Miller chuckled. "All right, you really are paying attention to all of the details."

* * *

December 14th, 1990
ROTC Detachment 855
Brigham Young University

Marva Bevington made a high sign at Mantell as he entered the command suite. Two men in suits were standing by her desk.

Mantell sighed, then said, "Marva, I've got papers to grade and reports to prepare for the CC, I've got to work the FAA and USAF approvals for my jump at the Holiday Bowl, and the CC's got a full plate this afternoon, too. If you could slot these guys for Monday morning, Spuds and I would both appreciate--"

Mrs. Bevington said, "Major, these gentlemen are here from Reno. They're from the Justice Department."

One of the men said, "Major Mantell, this is about Muleshoe."

Mantell stopped and sighed. "Marva, please extend my respects to Colonel MacKenzie, and let him know that my past may be catching up with me."

* * *

In his office, the two men introduced themselves as Mark Spiros and Daniel Porter. Marva then came in with a carafe of hot apple cider and a tray of homebaked cookies that she'd heated in the microwave.

"Now, Major, you need to keep your strength up, and difficult conversations go much more smoothly with food."

"Marva, you are an angel of mercy."

"You just say that because you're an absolute chump for oatmeal raisin cookies."

"Hey, oatmeal raisin cookies should count as health food."

There was polite laughter all around.

After they'd all served themselves, Mantell said, "Gentlemen, you have the floor."

Spiros said, "Sir, we're part of the War Crimes Commission. Certain war crimes have been defined as falling under the authority of the Commission, and Muleshoe is one of them. We have some questions regarding the events there and afterwards. We will be trying Thomas Newberry on charges of treason, violation of civil rights, and . . . "

Spiros consulted his notes. "Violating the Clean Air Act? Really?"

Mantell smiled and said, "I don't believe Soviet combat vehicles meet American emissions standards, sir."

Porter said, "Damn, Major, you're an evil sonofabitch."

Mantell wagged his finger at Porter and clucked his tongue. "Language, sir. This university is run by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and vulgar or profane speech is not tolerated."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I'm both a student and an instructor, thanks to a battlefield commission. And that means I signed onto the BYU code of conduct twice over, as student and as faculty. If I can't cuss, neither can you."

Porter looked chagrined, and Spiros was shaking his head. "Point taken, Major. And you are correct; at the very least, those vehicles were never properly tested for meeting pollution control standards. The lead attorney might go for it simply because it's one more set of charges against a very nasty example of the human species.

"So, we're getting ready for trial at Reno. Per the War Crimes Act of 1988, Newberry, as an American citizen, was granted the option of either a trial by jury or by a panel of judges, and his legal team went for the latter, probably because a jury of ordinary Americans would be unlikely to consider leniency, given how many gold stars there are across the fruited plain. We anticipate going to trial sometime in the coming year, depending on how other Tier I trials shape up."

"I see. I do have multiple obligations as a student and as the second-in-command of the detachment. Would it be possible for me to give a deposition and be done with it?"

Porter shook his head. "The right to cross-examine witnesses in open court is a core part of American jurisprudence. You're going to be one of the early witnesses--you will describe what you found when your unit arrived in Muleshoe and the pursuit of the 27th Motor Rifle Regiment, American Liberation Army. We anticipate the case taking no more than three weeks in total, but you will need to be there for all three weeks. Perhaps you can make arrangements with your professors and your commanding officer."

"It would seem that I will have to. Will I be able to have normal communications with the faculty and the command staff here? I am including electronic mail and Internet."

Spiros nodded. "We're taking over a hotel right across from the courthouse, and we're covering phone bills for local calls. I know that Tymnet and NetDemand both have good service there."

Mantell nodded. "BYU has a service contract with Tymnet, and I have access, so that's good. Do you have any other questions for me?"

Porter said, "Just one item that I think we should clear up sooner rather than later: per Newberry, you almost shot him out of hand."

Mantell nodded. "Hospital Corpsman Second Class Jennifer Daniloff talked me out of pulling the trigger."

Spiros said, "That's going to be kind of awkward."

"How so?"

Spiros stared at Mantell. "You just admitted that you almost shot him dead right there."

Mantell sipped his cider and said, "Mr. Spiros, allow me to quote you some Marine Corps wisdom: 'Almost only counts in horseshoes, hand grenades, and atomic bombs.' None of those circumstances obtain in this case. What is he going to do, complain that I didn't shoot him?"

Porter said, "Well, given how much of . . . well, let's say how much of a jerk Newberry has been so far . . . that's a distinct possibility."

"Well, my conscience is clean, gentlemen. I can't be prosecuted or condemned for not committing a crime."

Spiros chuckled. "Major . . . I fully expect his legal team to give it the old college try. Newberry's daddy is loaded, and Daddy Newberry doesn't want his son going to Terre Haute."

Mantell sighed.

Porter asked, "Is something amiss?"

"Just remembering what a good friend said. She knew my late wife all the way back to kindergarten, and she's now studying at a yeshiva to become a rabbi." Mantell paused, then said, "She said that those who would be merciful when they should be cruel will be cruel when they should be merciful."

Spiros nodded. "I've heard that before. And honestly . . . that describes Daddy Newberry to a T. His legal team will try to rattle you."

"As I said . . . my conscience is clear, gentlemen. I didn't do it, and that meant I was able to reconcile with my once and future love with a clean heart. We got two years as husband and wife . . . and that was more than a lot of people ever got. I didn't need to be told . . . I just needed to be reminded."

* * *

20 December 1990
Smith Fieldhouse
BYU University

Mantell and Miller were lying on furniture dollies, and a couple of cadets were pushing them around in accordance with their instructions as they "maneuvered" across the fieldhouse floor.

Miller called, "Sharp easterly wind!"

Mantell's cadet shoved Mantell's dolly hard to the east.

Mantell tucked his hands and spread his legs apart. "Max descent rate!"

Another cadet with a timer called, "5,000 MSL!"

The cadet slowed the dolly, but didn't stop.

"4,000 MSL!"

Mantell waited four seconds, then resumed his box man orientation.

The cadet called, "3,000 MSL!"

Mantell called, "PULL!"

Mantell called, "PULLING!" and mimed pulling the ripcord.

Miller called, "YOU'VE GOT A STREAMER!"

Mantell called, "CUTAWAY, PULLING RESERVE!" while miming the movements needed.

Miller said, "All right, we're done, sir." She paused, then said, "Good work."

* * *

Mantell bowed his head for a brief prayer over his breakfast, then grabbed a napkin and place it in his lap.

"Sir, I'm not sure what Sophie's worried about. Your head is in the game."

"How much do you know about me?"

Miller shook her head. "Not much. Sophie didn't want to prejudice me one way or another."

"Okay. I'm from San Diego. My parents were in the wrong place and the wrong time, and got caught in a Spetsnaz raid at MCRD San Diego. My oldest brother went down with his boat off Petropavlovsk near the end of the war. I've lost a bunch of friends from high school. Sophie's one of the ones I haven't lost."

Mantell paused, sipped his orange juice, then said, "And I lost my wife to round 2 of the Armistice Flu in April."

Miller said, "Wow. So what's this project you're involved in?"

"Another Patrick Henry Alum is getting her master's in broadcast media, and her current project is a video for the pregame show. I've sat for a couple interviews already, talking about loss and healing. During the run-up to the game, I'm going to walk through the old neighborhood with a camera covering my reactions, visit my parents' and wife's graves . . . and get some closure."

"And after that?"

"And after that, assuming the weather is good, we do the jump, and deliver the game ball."

* * *

29 December 1990
Provo, UT

Sophie and Marianne tuned into the pregame show.

"Tonight, we have a special presentation. The Air Force officer delivering the ball will be making a high-altitude parachute jump onto the field. He's Major Joshua Mantell, a San Diego native, and this is his story."

Josh Mantell appeared on screen, leading AFROTC students in morning PT.

His voice came over the scenes of calisthentics.

"My name is Josh Mantell, and I'm majoring in Computer Science. I'm also both a student within the Air Force ROTC detachment . . . and the second in command.

"On Day One, I was an enlisted Marine up a Tustin. I flew three assault landings, and until I landed at the base that evening . . . I thought we were winning."

The scene changed to a classroom, and Mantell was showing the basics of close-order drill.

"I eventually received a battlefield commission, and transferred to the Air Force during the preparation for invading Cuba. I served as a Tactical Air Control Party commander during Cuba."

The scene shifted again, this time to Josh kneeling in prayer before a grave.

"My wife died during the Bakersfield wave of the Armistice Flu. We got married during the war knowing that there wasn't any guarantee that we'd both make it."

On the screen, Josh bowed down and kissed Roberta's headstone.

"We had two years together. That's more than a lot of people ever got, and I'm grateful."

Becks Halstead appeared on the screen. "I'm Rebecca Halstead, but everyone at Henry called me Becks. I graduated a couple years ahead of Josh, and I knew his wife as well. I had a very sheltered war compared to Josh. And now I'm trying to figure out the why of it all. Why did I get off scot-free, and why did Josh pay such a price?"

* * *

They were walking past the big strip mall on Waring Road. Sophie noticed that the Texaco station had been replaced by a Chevron, and the building that used to house California First Bank was vacant.

Josh gestured to the mall. "The Drug Fair lost their lease in 1986, and they ended up slicing and dicing the space three or four ways. About the only things I recognize in that mall are the Food Basket and Pal Joey's bar."

There was a cut to a residential street. A house was getting built.

Mantell said, "That's where my old house was."

Becks asked, "What are you thinking?"

Mantell was quiet for a moment, then said, "Some kid is going to grow up in that new house. They're going to play at the park up the street, attend Foster Elementary, Lewis Junior High, and Patrick Henry. There will be good times . . . and bad. They're going to ride dirt bikes and play basketball; they're going to sweat algebra homework and book reports . . . they're going to meet someone special, maybe they'll get their hearts broken . . . or maybe they'll marry their high school sweetheart."

Mantell paused again, then said, "Life happens. The world continues. I'm just hoping that kid has it at least as good as I did growing up."

* * *

Marianne watched her wife dab at her eyes.

"A little dusty in here, darling?"

Sophie said, "Onion-cutting ninjas."

* * *

Mantell was walking on the quadrangle of Patrick Henry High School.

A memorial board with pictures from the 1985 yearbook was in place, with a simple vinyl banner that read, "PHASE LINE PATRIOT: LEST WE FORGET."

An Air Force Junior ROTC cadet was standing at parade rest with a demilitarized M1903 Springfield rifle. The rifle was fitted with a chrome bayonet.

When Mantell crossed an unmarked line, the cadet came to attention and brought the rifle up.

"HALT! WHO GOES THERE?"

"Major Joshua Mantell, United States Air Force, Patrick Henry Class of 1983. Report your post!"

The cadet brought the rifle to present arms.

"Sir, Cadet Porter reports Post #1 all secure, nothing unusual to report at this time."

Mantell saluted and said, "Thank you. Carry on!"

Cadet Porter returned to parade rest.

* * *

Sophie said, "The bastard commanding the 63rd Infantry Division got off too lightly."

Marianne asked, "Didn't he get hanged?"

"Should've gotten staked out on an anthill."

* * *

Mantell said, "I can try to live in the past . . . or I can live in the present and carry hope for the future. And I know which is the better portion." He paused, then said, "We're done here. Well, at least I'm done here. The future is a-calling, and I'm not letting it go to voice mail."

* * *

Marianne was openly crying. "He'll be okay, Sophie."

"I know."

Thank You, God, for reaching him.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, the ball for tonight's game will be delivered by Air Force Major Joshua Mantell of San Diego, accompanied by Air Force Lieutenant Alicia Miller of Billings, Montana . . . "

Sophie leaned forward as she watched the feed from inside the C-130.

* * *

Josh watched the sweet golden light touch the Laguna Mountains to the east. The weather was perfect; a mild Santa Ana was banishing the marine cloud layer without bringing high winds.

He remembered a psalm.

O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall announce Thy praise.

He checked Miller's equipment. Satisfied, he smacked her shoulder. She then checked his equipment and smacked Josh's shoulder.

"We good, Josh?"

Josh nodded. He then said, "I'm good. One last word for the Man upstairs."

Miller nodded.

"O Lord, open my lips . . . "

Miller joined in. " . . . and my mouth shall announce Thy praise."

Mantell said, "Let's do this."

The loadmaster called, "THIRTY SECONDS!"

The seconds counted down swiftly.

The loadmaster held up five fingers, then folded them one at a time.

The green light came on, and Josh ran down the ramp . . .

* * *

. . . and Roberta felt the urge to run and jump with her friends.

* * *

Josh stabilized in the box man position, arms and legs out, steering toward Jack Murphy Stadium six miles below.

"Guiding on the Murph."

Alicia called, "Two."

* * *

Sophie watched as the feed switched to Alicia's helmet cam, showing Josh silhoutted against the last light of the sun. The sky was beautifully clear; one could see all the way to the lights of Ensenada.

Sophie whispered, "God, that is so beautiful."

Marianne was snuggled against her. "That view . . . it's like . . . sitting in God's hand."

* * *

The last sliver of sun faded away below the horizon, and Josh squeezed the ribbon switch in his left hand.

LEDs on his harness lit up.

* * *

The crowd roared as Mantell's torso lit up.

* * *

Josh's altimeter beeped, and he called, "PULL!"

He yanked the ripcord and found himself slightly above Alicia. They turned this way and that to line up with the football field and the glideslope into the stadium.

* * *

Sophie laughed in delight as Josh and Alicia landed exactly on their targets--Josh on the 50 yard line's western number, and Alicia on the northside 30 yard line's eastern number--in perfect lockstep.

* * *

In minutes, Josh had handed over the game ball to the senior referee, stripped off his jump gear, and donned his TACP black beret, while Alicia put on on her tan beret.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for our National Anthem."

Mantell and Miller stood to attention and faced the MCRD Color Guard at mid-field.

* * *

After the game, Miller chuckled. "All that effort, and you guys got slaughtered 65-14 by Iowa State, fercryinoutloud!"

Mantell sighed. "We're rebuilding this year."

"Ain't we all, honey."

Mantell smiled. Ain't we all, indeed.

[jemhouston]

Now I know this AU, Iowa State could never win a bowl game by that much. While I'm from Iowa, half the family are Iowa State fans, my father was, and my sister is Iowa fans.

[Belushi TD]

On the screen, Josh bowed down and kissed Sophie's headstone.

I thought he married Roberta ITTL as well. If it was Sophie's gravestone, then who was it who sicced Lieutenant Miller on him? Or did I miss something again?


I don't think I say this enough, but I greatly enjoy these stories. Thank you for your work.

Belushi TD

[Poohbah]

On the screen, Josh bowed down and kissed Sophie's headstone.

I thought he married Roberta ITTL as well. If it was Sophie's gravestone, then who was it who sicced Lieutenant Miller on him? Or did I miss something again?


I don't think I say this enough, but I greatly enjoy these stories. Thank you for your work.

Belushi TD

Botched edit, will correct.

[Poohbah]

07 January 1991
Project Air Force Office
RAND Corporation
Salt Lake City, UT

Doctor Henrix was pouring herself a cup of coffee in the break room when the tall woman in Air Force blue and wearing colonel's leaves entered the room.

Henrix blinked. What was her name again? Cathy something-ian? Armenian, I guess.

The woman brightened and walked over. "Doctor Henrix!"

"You've got me at a disadvantage, I'm afraid."

"Kathy Barzanian. I had you for freshman Western Civilization I and II."

The name turned the key. "You were one of Colonel Lodge's cadets."

Barzanian smiled. "Yes, Uncle Samuel."

"You're related?"

"He rescued me and my family on the Turkish-Armenian border--if his jeep had come along an hour later, we probably would've frozen to death. I was four years old, and I remember how good the heater felt, and his driver was singing something to me--I didn't understand a word, but I giggled, I remember that. My family settled in Fresno. Uncle Samuel visited us when he could, and later recruited me for Air Force ROTC."

"So, what brings you here?"

"They're restarting the military fellowship program, and I'm one of the A-2 fellows, representing Air Force Intelligence."

* * *

11 January 1991
Salt Lake City, UT

Sophie savored her mother's meatloaf.

Marianne said, "This is delicious, Mrs. Henrix."

Larissa "Oh, call me Mom if you want. As a matter of fact, I insist."

"All right--Mom. Anything interesting happening at RAND?"

"Well, you've never met her, but she was a TA at Sophie's high school. Sophie, do you remember Kathy Barzanian?"

Sophie blinked as a very particular memory from Wichita Falls asserted itself. Marianne gave her a brief look that said I'll ask you later.

"Uh, yeah. She was in Air Force ROTC. General Lodge is her rabbi, I worked with her a few times during the war."

"Well, she's at RAND as an Air Force Fellow."

Sophie smiled.

Marianne said, "I know that look."

Charles said, "What look?"

Larissa smiled. "The look that says Sophie's engaging in shenanigans."

"My dear, sweet innocent daughter, engaging in shenanigans? Perish the thought. Besides, she's an officer and a lady by act of Congress."

Larissa said, "She's Up To Something."

Sophie said, "Josh knew her, too. Is she in a relationship?"

Larissa said, "No wedding ring. I got the impression that there's nobody in her life right now."

"Please sound her out about it."

Marianne asked, "Sophie, you're not going to play matchmaker for Josh, are you?"

Sophie nodded. "She's a lovely woman--"

Larissa said, "Sophie, dear, she's also about four or five years older than Josh."

"What of it? They're both adults, he's handsome, she's gorgeous, and Josh needs to get back on that horse at some point before he becomes a spinster."

Charles said, "Larissa . . . far be it from me to have an opinion on this . . . but maybe Sophie's got a point. Josh was a shy kid. Now, command and leadership is a persona that officers wear, and he apparently does it very well. But at his center, he's still that shy kid--and he may very well think that actually winning Roberta's hand was on the same scale of luck as hitting the Powerball jackpot." He sighed. "Kinda like me winning your heart, really. I still think I'm the luckiest man in the world."

Larissa smiled. "Charles Victor Henrix, you are a shameless flatterer . . . and an incurable romantic. So you're thinking something along the lines of setting them up on a blind date?"

Sophie watched her father take a bite of meatloaf and chew at length. He always does that when he's thinking at the dinner table.

Finally, he swallowed, then said, "Maybe. For something that's some kind of social event, not just the two of them alone. Is there anything coming up at RAND?"

Larissa shook her head. "I'll look around for something that would work, and I'll see if she's available while I'm at it."

* * *

Back at their home, Marianne asked, "So . . . Kathy Barzanian?"

"I slept with her as part of building my cover at Sheppard in early '88. And I know she had a soft spot in her heart for Adam."

"You think she might have one for Josh?"

"Maybe. Only one way to find out."

* * *

14 January 1991
Provo, UT

Sophie answered the phone as she watched Marianne dish up pot roast from the crock pot.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Sophie, it's Mom. I talked to Kathy. Yes, she's unattached. She also said, 'Have Sophie hold onto that thought.' I don't think she's exactly ready yet. Maybe a couple of months."

* * *

22 January 1991
AFROTC Det 855

Mantell came into the front office and waved to Marva Bevington, who gave him a tired smile. "How's it going?"

"It goes, for varying values of 'go.' I need to get on the CC's calendar when he gets back from Hill--"

"He should be here by 1500, he wants to see you right when he gets in."

Oh, that can't be good.

"I see. In the meantime, I need Cadet Colin Petersen's file, please."

Bevington pulled it out and handed it to Mantell with a quizzical expression.

"Thanks, Marva. All will become clear after I talk to Colonel MacKenzie."

Mantell sat down at his computer, organized his thoughts, and opened the file.

He opened Wordstar and began typing.

* * *

MacKenzie came in at 1430 and knocked on Mantell's door once.

"Yes, sir?"

"My office." MacKenzie sighed. "Let's get this done."

Mantell grabbed Petersen's file and the memo he'd written.

MacKenzie said, "Shut the door and grab a seat, please."

Mantell did so.

MacKenzie was silent for a moment, then said, "Major, I have learned more about leadership watching you do it than I did across the entire war."

Mantell said nothing.

"The AFROTC Commander, in his infinite wisdom, says you have to go through expeditionary field training at Maxwell this summer. Never mind getting you qualified as a jumpmaster to be on pace with your peers, no, sir! You're just another cadet as far as he's concerned."

Mantell nodded. "Is there any way to have the decision reviewed?"

"Officially? No. Unofficially . . . you know anybody with stars, by any chance?"

"Well, sir, there's Lieutenant General Lodge at the DIA, and Brigadier General Rockwell--"

"You know the State Adjutant?"

"The Guard airborne brigade is his pet project, sir. Delta Company is coming along nicely. Now, he's wired in with the congressional delegation, sir, including one Jonathan Hardcastle."

"What's so special about him?"

"He commanded Hotel Company when I was a platoon leader, and 1st Battalion, 26th Marines while I had Bravo Company, sir."

"And if anyone can attest to whether you need expeditionary training, your CO would know. You have General Rockwell's number?"

"Yes, sir." Josh wrote it down and handed it to MacKenzie.

"Good, I'll set an appointment with his office. Break-break, what's in the folder?"

Mantell handed the folder and the memorandum over, and MacKenzie's face darkened.

"Our problem child, I see." He skimmed the contents of the file, and nodded. "Good job counseling him on his deficiencies." He read the memorandum, and said, "Outstanding work." He signed it, then said, "Notify Petersen that he's dropped, and to turn in his gear. Then notify his draft board."

"Yes, sir."

[jemhouston]

If you don't plan your life, someone else will.

[Poohbah]

24 January 1991
Penn Center Building
Philadelphia, PA

Orrin Hatch smiled pleasantly and shook Jonathan Hardcastle's hand. "Representative Hardcastle, it's good to meet you. General Rockwell said you had some relevant information on this . . . situation . . . with the ROTC."

"Yes, Senator."

After they'd sat down, Hardcastle said, "Major Mantell was one of my Marines during the war."

"Ah, an old war buddy?"

Hardcastle shook his head. "Not at first. I was . . . concerned . . . about him. He was . . . well, when I met him, he was a newly-minted First Lieutenant on a battlefield commission--and he was hurting, sir."

Hatch nodded. "I see."

"Well . . . as fortune would have it, we were directed to Camp Roberts, and he was reunited with the woman he loved . . . and they settled their differences. He ended up marrying her."

Hatch nodded. "And then he lost her to the Armistice Flu. I watched that special on him before the Holiday Bowl. After all that he's lost . . . he's still able to be hopeful about the future." Hatch sighed. "I wish I could have a tenth of his strength. So, what's going on now?"

"Sir, he was commissioned as a Major in the Marine Corps in November, 1989--as a regular, with Senate confirmation. General Gray revoked all of the 'provisional' promotions the next--"

Hatch said, "I remember. Ended up getting Gray fired seven months early."

"Well, the Air Force grabbed him because he was training all of the Joint Terminal Attack Controllers for the POW rescue. Picked him up as a regular, under their authority to do so. The Senate subsequently confirmed his commission in February, 1990."

Hatch nodded. "And there seems to be some sort of controversy?"

"The ROTC commander is insisting that Mantell--a very experienced and skilled infantry officer, my best company commander when I had 1st Battalion, 26th Marines--needs to go through field training."

Hatch held up a hand. "Now, hold on a minute. By what legal authority is the Reserve Officer Training Corps commander presuming to judge the qualifications of a Regular officer who has been duly confirmed by the Senate?"

I didn't even think of that.

Hatch smiled. "Jonathan, my lad, you're not an attorney. You're not an expert in the law. And that may be your greatest strength; you can look at things and ask the kinds of questions that lawyers will never think of because the law is, to them, what water is to a fish. But it can keep you from seeing things that are obvious to lawyers." Hatch smiled. "I'm going to ask that question of the Legislative Affairs Office over at McGuire. That should get this situation resolved quickly."

* * *

24 January 1991
AFROTC Detachment 855
Brigham Young University
Provo, UT

Mantell came in from leading morning PT to find the entire cadre waiting for him, clapping loudly.

"What's the big occasion?"

MacKenzie smiled. "Upon further review . . . which apparently means that Senator Hatch started using words such as 'subpoena' and 'Senate Armed Services Committee Hearings,' you're no longer required to attend field training, and you can commit to attending the jumpmaster course at Benning. As a matter of fact, you're not even required to attend Aerospace Studies after this semester, so you can fill in other units."

* * *

Mantell went over the inventory of Petersen's gear. "All right, he's missing a field jacket and a set of load-bearing equipment. Let's pass that over to the financial office and let BYU collect the debt."

Master Sergeant Patricia Yates smiled. "Yes, sir!"

Yates left, and Petersen wandered into the office.

"So, you happy now, Major?"

Mantell said, "No, I'm not. You've wasted my time--which is extremely annoying. But more importantly, you've wasted your time--and that is criminally foolish. None of us have any idea when we're going to pass on--the only certainty is that it will happen someday. It's pretty obvious you were only in the ROTC to avoid facing the draft. You never gave more than the minimum, at most--and sometimes, not even that. It would've been better all around if you'd simply taken a two-year tour as an Army 11 Bravo and then come here with no obligations. All right, lecture ended, get out of here and don't come back."

* * *

04 February 1991
Federal Courthouse
Reno, NV

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

Mantell's voice was firm. "I do."

"Please be seated."

Spiros stood and went to the lectern.

"Major Mantell, I understand that you were a platoon sergeant in H Company, 2nd Battalion, 26th Marines when your unit reached Muleshoe. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what are the typical duties of the platoon sergeant?"

"Essentially, the platoon sergeant is the senior enlisted person in the platoon, and acts as an advisor to the platoon leader. Typically, platoon leaders have less than three years of active service and are learning the profession; most platoon sergeants, at least in peacetime, have anywhere from nine to fifteen years of service, so part of their job is to mentor newly minted lieutenants. Additionally, the platoon sergeant acts as the platoon leader in the actual platoon leader's absence. Now, in wartime, things change, but I had four years of experience as a Marine, while the platoon leader had a shade over six months."

"And your platoon leader at Muleshoe was?"

"Second Lieutenant Jason Rothman, sir."

"I understand that Lieutenant Rothman did not survive the war."

"That is correct, sir. He died during the fight for Lubbock Airport, about three weeks after we reached Muleshoe."

"I see. So, please describe the situation you found out Muleshoe."

"Sir, our first warning that there was something seriously wrong was when he arrived on the town outskirts, and there weren't any civilians moving to greet us. We dismounted from our vehicles with the exception of the vehicle crews themselves--driver, gunner, and assistant gunner/loader--and we began moving into the town. When we hit the first structures on the outskirts, we found evidence that small arms fire ranging from assault rifles to heavy machine-guns had been used indiscriminately on residences. We found no indications of an actual fight, just a lot of shooting.

"The first house I entered, we found several dead people. We cleared the house; we didn't find anyone alive, and then we moved to the next house. This went on for about fifteen minutes, and then Stenford--"

"Excuse me, please clarify who you're talking about."

"Corporal Charles Stenford, he was a fire team leader in second squad."

"I see."

"So, Corporal Stenford radioed that he'd found a survivor."

"And that survivor was the woman you named 'Rachel,' correct?

"Yes, sir."

"What prompted you to give her that name?"

"The platoon corpsman--Petty Officer Second Class Jennifer Daniloff, United States Navy--found the remains of a newborn child in the front room of the house, next to the woman . . . the umbilical was still attached. And she concluded from her initial examination that she'd just given birth."

Mantell paused, then said, "Preacher Cartwright--Corporal John Cartwright, we called him Preacher because he'd been a seminarian on Day One--said to call her Rachel, because she was the voice heard weeping in Ramah."

* * *

Finally, Spiros said, "No further questions."

Judge Albert Welch said, "Defense cross-examination?"

A man with a full head of silvering hair stood up and went to the podium.

Charles Newberry, the defendant's father.

"Major Mantell, did you observe my son commit any of the actions that took place at Muleshoe?"

"No, sir."

"I see. And what makes you so certain that he was fighting on behalf of the collaborationist government?"

"Well, sir, when I captured him, he was in the uniform of the American Liberation Army with collar insignia for a major, he was carrying an AK-74 assault rifle, it was in the middle of a firefight between Hotel Company and the 27th Motor Rifle Regiment, American Liberation Army, and he'd been shooting at me not thirty seconds before. He identified himself as Major Thomas Newberry of the ALA. When we searched him, we found an ALA paybook in that name."

"If you were close enough to identify him as shooting at you, how are you still here to testify?"

"Because Mr. Newberry couldn't hit the broad side of a barn at ten yards, sir."

There were chuckles from the gallery, and Welch tapped his gavel once. "Order, please."

"I see. Now, when you captured him, you held a rifle on him, and your platoon corpsman--Miss Daniloff, I believe--had to talk you out of shooting him?"

"That's substantially correct, yes."

"And you simply admit it in open court."

"Yes, sir. I almost committed murder. However, I do note for the record that 'almost' only counts in horseshoes, hand grenades, and atomic bombs, and none of these obtain in the instant case."

Charles Newberry smiled triumphantly. "If it may please the court, we have a confession."

Welch asked, "Of what?"

"He admitted to almost murdering my son!"

Welch said, "As Major Mantell has pointed out, 'almost' doesn't apply in the law. Either he did, or he didn't, and given that your son is here in the courtroom, that's pretty strong evidence that he didn't. He didn't commit murder; indeed, it would be impossible to sustain even an aggravated assault charge, given the circumstances."

Newberry suddenly deflated. After a moment, he sat down.

* * *

07 February 1991
Reno, NV

The hotel room was quieter than the dorm at BYU.

I will be grateful when I can move into an apartment at the end of the school year.

Mantell tapped away on his laptop, replying to an email regarding Cadet Nielsen's readiness for field training over the summer. Satisfied, he hit SEND.

Another email came in. "DINING-IN 01 MARCH 1991." He read it, then sighed.

Mantell sighed, then began typing another email.

From: mantellj@afrotc855.usaf.mil
To: shenrix@novell.com

Subj: HELP!

Sophie,

I have a dining-in on March 1st. I am expected to bring a guest. Being a more than full-time student and the exec of Det 855 has meant I don't have an opportunity to get out and socialize. Do you have any friends who would be willing to wear a formal to a generally indifferent dinner meal, with dancing to follow?

Regards,

Josh

* * *

07 February 1991
Provo, UT

Sophie read the email and wrote herself a note.

* * *

08 February 1991
Salt Lake City, UT

Larissa Henrix gave her daughter a hug, then hugged Marianne.

"Glad you could make it! I've got someone else coming--and there she is!"

Sophie turned and saw Kathy Barzanian coming up the walkway.

There were hugs and introductions, and then everyone went in to help get dinner together.

* * *

Kathy hit it off well with Marianne, and Sophie decided to bypass her mother.

"Listen, Kathy, I have a friend--a mutual acquaintance, even--who needs a date for the BYU AFROTC Dining-In."

Kathy said, "Good Lord, I'm not dating a cadet."

"Relax! He's the Detachment XO."

"All right, who am I going with?"

"Josh Mantell."

Barzanian looked at Sophie dubiously. "Seriously? Last I remember, he was a shy, retiring teenager."

Marianne chuckled. "Oh, he's no shy, retiring teenager. He's serious beefcake, actually."

Larissa said, "Maybe somewhat shy. But he's a good man."

Kathy considered this for a moment, then said, "Give me a bit to think."

* * *

Over hot chocolate in the kitchen, Kathy said, "Sophie . . . look, I just turned 30. I'm not getting any younger."

Sophie said, "Nobody is. Including Josh. Look, Kathy . . . he's an adult. He's a widower. And I'm worried about him. He's always been a bit of a workaholic, and he needs to remember to take time for Josh."

"But . . . is he just looking for a date? I really don't have time to have a purely 'fun' relationship. There's got to be something more."

Sophie smiled. "Right now, he thinks he's looking for a date, but you know what a romantic he is. Play your cards right, sister, and he'll move from the fun zone to husband material . . . "

Sophie snapped her fingers. "Just like that."

Kathy chuckled. "Just like that?"

Sophie said, "Just like that. Trust your wing-woman Sophie on this one. So, are you on board to party with the big dogs, or are you just going to sit on the porch?"

Kathy raised her cup of hot chocolate. "All right, I'm in."

Sophie gently touched her cup to Kathy's.

[Matt Wiser]

Good one: though just wait until this AU's version of Josh has to testify when Helms has his round of hearings.... Hatch has always been a straight shooter when it comes to the military (RL as well as canon and AU).

[jemhouston]

Things are getting interesting.

[Wolfman]

Things are getting interesting.

That they are! I’m looking forward to seeing what happens next!