Hush Little Baby

Unknown to me, that paper, like many others, get handed around and some even go up the chain. Mine fell into the hands of General Hibbertson. When Desert Storm loomed ever closer, the General dug my paper out, and when he got authorization, he came looking for me. Ghost Squadron was formed and it hadn't yet managed to leave the desert, just moved countries as the bad people seemed to do.

We'd driven into the most heavily fortified enemy positions, in broad daylight and painted specific buildings for drone strikes, provided reams of intel on the inner workings of the Taliban and other fringe organizations, sent in pictures of who's who amongst its command structure, as well as pull other special forces units out of the desert when things went south with their own extraction plan.

Between General Hibbertson and I, we dragged Ghost Squadron into existence and managed to keep it so secret that only the elite such as the special forces units, even know of its existence, but never its true purpose. The General allowed me to use Ghost Squadron to fool Dana.

It was a prerequisite in Ghost Squadron; we all had at least two specialized skills and invariably one skill would cross over another one of the groups. Conner was a pilot before he came to Ghost Squadron. The General maneuvered Conner into being the last Apache to leave the area. Jamie Thompson's shot wasn't planned, but he knew his own skill with a sniper's rifle, and that one shot sealed the deal.

For three days Dana and I were in a protected circle of thirty of the most elite solders in this man's army. I would meet with one of them on my supposed scouting missions, update their orders if needed and receive the location of our next bolt hole, in return. They kept us safe while Dana came to terms with her father's death.

Death seemed to be a connected theme throughout all this.

With the death of three of my people, the near discovery of our unit and a frantic run across the most inhospitable terrain to friendly lines, although exonerated I still felt that I had somehow made a mistake, one that had cost me three friends.

General Hibbertson removing me from command of Ghost Squadron and sending me states-side was the closest I got to going after not only my friend, but commanding officer. I was at Arlington for two of the funerals, Sergeant Harry White's wife wanted him buried at home. It's difficult for a stranger in uniform to hide in a small town where everyone knows each other, and although keeping on the periphery of the funeral, she spotted me straight away.

It took her Police Chief uncle and her own father to peal her off me as she set about attacking me and placing his death firmly at my feet. I left so they could at least bury her husband and the man who died keeping me alive, in his final resting place. When General Hibbertson found out what happened, he placed me on full leave pending a review from a psychiatrist.

When he read that report, I was effectively removed from that world and that, of course, included Ghost Squadron. I was given a new last name and a job with a company in the employ of the CIA. Yes, death held a theme throughout all this: the death of Marcus Hamilton that set an avenging angel on my path.

"Hush little baby," three words that would place to rest two, and now three, empty hearts. I just needed one on one time with her and in a setting she couldn't control. The death of her father affected her more than she cared to admit to anyone and I understood that, although perhaps from a different standpoint, but being the company enforcer, she became too single minded.

Dana just needed time. Mind you, even I didn't predict the final outcome, and somewhere on my personnel jacket from the Army, it does actually say strategist.

*******

The chill of the evening made me kick the fire once again into life and as I continued to stare at the fire, a long-forgotten memory clawed its way to the forefront of my mind. Both my folks had an inane saying. "If you've lost something and can't seem to find it, stop looking. It will eventually come and find you."

That saying rang through the house when the TV remote went missing, or house keys, you name it, if it went missing for more than twenty minutes one of my folks would always coin that inane phrase. My more clinical mind also had to take a step back because invariably, it turned out to be true.

I smiled at the memory of my folks; they were right after all. I stopped looking for a relationship because my full attention was on getting Ghost Squadron operational, it was a unit that had to remain so secret that only the General authorized any knowledge of its existence, but also had to be operational before troops were deployed. As one month rolled over into another that same excuse rolled on to the extent that, I simply stopped looking for my life partner.

Somewhere in my thoughts, I had finally connected with that saying. When General Hibbertson walked into my life and placed authorization for the creation of Ghost Squadron in my hands, I put my personal life on hold, as did a whole nation that fateful day that is now simply known as 9/11.

Sergeant Harry White died in my arms; his wife could never know that. The letter said he died on active service. Three of my friends died on the battle field to bring me and twenty-six of their fellow comrades back home. It then took Martin Parks and his stupidity behind the wheel of a company car to bring Marcus Hamilton into my life, and Dana Hoffman came some months later.

If you've lost something and can't seem to find it, stop looking. It will eventually come and find you.

Well I stopped looking for a life outside Ghost Squadron, and then Marcus Hamilton placed a gift in my hands and Dana Hoffman came and found me. The key to her heart were three words that meant nothing to anyone but Marcus and Dana. It was time to stop running, Dana had proved that; Charlotte Mendez simply reinforced that idea. They both wanted a life to come home to, and that life was the three of us.

As the fire once again lost its warmth, I knew sleep was moments away. My Squadron and I had a busy few months ahead of us. I knew that I also had to factor staying alive into my actions from then on. The cosmos had given me a chance and with two of the sweetest women I knew, there was no infant sticking arrows through my heart.

Just the cosmos placing us all in the same room and knocking our collective heads together. What we did with the results was, of course, up to us, I think the beating of my heart was a big hint that my life would be better with these two women in it rather than not in it.

I smiled and mentally wished both my girls goodnight before I placed them both in a safe place in my heart.

The End.