No Greater Love

"Capt. Weber is set to be buried at a national cemetery near his home town of Springfield. He is survived by his parents and grandparents, a brother who just graduated from the Military Academy at West Point and a sister. We have been told that General Avery Johnson, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, is set to personally accompany Capt. Weber's remains to the funeral site. Capt. Weber was the commanding officer of a recently formed company of Special Forces troops organized specifically to rapidly respond and deal with terrorists like those in Africa."

As the announcer ended his report, a picture of Mike in uniform appeared on screen. Lynette watched as the screen focused on his chiseled face, hard, resolute eyes looking out from under the green beret he had worked so hard to earn. The station placed Mike's name along with his date of birth and date of death beneath his face. A familiar song began to play in the background, a tune that dated back to the Vietnam War.

"Fighting Soldiers from the sky,

Fearless men who jump and die.

Men who mean just what they say,

The brave men of the Green Beret

Silver Wings upon their chest.

These are men -- America's best.

100 men will test today,

But only 3 win the Green Beret..."

Lynette began sobbing uncontrollably, her whole body shaking, hot tears streaming down her face. She noticed the report never mentioned that he was still married. Apparently, Mike really had removed her from his life.

"No, no, no, please God, no," she cried. "Please forgive me, God, please. I'm so sorry."

After a few minutes, her phone buzzed. She looked to see that the call was coming from Mike's phone number. How could that possibly be, she asked herself. But there it was. Her hands shaking, she answered.

"Hello," she said.

"It's okay, Lynette," said a quiet, calm voice that sounded just like her husband. "All is forgiven. I love you. Please, come join me. We can be together again, forever. It's nice here. You'll like it." The call ended as Lynette looked at her phone. She tried dialing the number back but got a message saying the number was no longer in service.

Her body still shaking, she made her way to her bedroom. Holding the last photo she had of her husband, she cried as she held it to her breast.

"Come, dear, join me," she heard Mike's voice whisper in her ear.

Suddenly, she knew what she had to do. She put on her best nightgown and grabbed a bottle of sleeping pills she got earlier that day. She opened the bottle and swallowed all of the pills, washing them down with a glass of Scotch. She laid down, holding her husband's picture and closed her eyes.

"I'm coming, sweetheart," she said quietly as she fell asleep for the last time. She was found two weeks later when base housing personnel entered the house to collect Mike's belongings.

General David Masters saw the report from his tiny apartment on the base. After his arrest in Africa, he was relieved of his command, placed on house arrest and required to wear an ankle bracelet that monitored his movements. He knew that his goose was cooked. No one would speak to him, not even Lynette. The list of charges against him was a mile long, and he knew he'd be lucky to escape the death penalty.

He did have a friend here and there, however, and one of them managed to slip him a service revolver with a single bullet. He watched the report, changed the channel and saw the same report delivered by a different person. No matter what, he was finished. There was no telling what else might get uncovered if CID looked deeper into his flimsy record.

The Army, working with various intelligence agencies, had uncovered the network of enemy agents David worked with and had taken them out with a series of surgical strikes. The Defense Department, meanwhile, was working to assess and mitigate the damage caused by his actions. In the meantime, they had frozen all of his assets and stripped him of his security clearance. His wife's attorneys were also working to destroy him financially.

He looked at the revolver and steeled himself to embrace his fate. Better to eat a bullet now than be Bubba's bitch for the rest of his miserable life, he thought. If anyone remembered his name at all, it would probably be right along with the likes of Benedict Arnold. The thought made him shiver. He picked up the revolver, ran his hand over the shiny metal, put the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

He was found an hour later when military policemen responded to a "shots fired" call from the apartment complex.

General Johnson kept his word and accompanied Mike's body to the funeral service. It seemed that half of Springfield showed up to pay their last respects. A number of soldiers, many wearing the signature green beret, also showed up and shared stories with Chris and his family.

The preacher gave a stirring message, but one passage he read struck Chris. It was a passage from the Bible, John 15:13, which read, "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." That fit Mike perfectly, he thought, wiping a tear from his eye.

Several soldiers talked about their service with Mike, how he had helped them through one tough spot or another or how he made them all laugh. Several others spoke about Mike, all of them recalling positive memories.

Brian, wearing his dress uniform, spoke about growing up with his brother, how he always wanted to be a soldier just like Mike and had always hoped the two would serve together fighting a common enemy. The battle-hardened Green Berets nodded in appreciation as the young newly-commissioned second lieutenant spoke.

First Sgt. Roberts, wearing his full dress uniform, spoke to the crowd.

"I'm a simple man, so I'll make this short and sweet. I've served with a lot of soldiers in my life," he said. "But Capt. Weber was the best man I've ever served with." He looked up. "God, I don't know if you can hear me, but if you need someone to storm the gates of Hell, here he is." He looked at Brian, stepped down and walked to him with a small box.

"Lieutenant," he said. "Your brother spoke of you a lot. He was damn proud of you, the way you graduated first at West Point. Said he'd love it if the two of you could serve together. I think he'd like you to have this," he said, handing Brian the box. Brian opened it and saw Mike's beret, neatly folded, with his shiny rank insignia still pinned on the unit patch. He looked at the 1^st Sgt, choking back his emotions.

"Thank you, 1^st Sgt," he said, shaking the man's hand.

"Who knows, Lieutenant, maybe one day you'll put one of those on yourself," Roberts said. Brian smiled and nodded his head before sitting back down.

After arriving at the cemetery, Chris and Chloe watched as the burial detail carefully folded the flag covering Mike's coffin. An officer carried the flag to Chloe and knelt as he handed it to her. Looking at her with compassion in his eyes, he said a few words. Standing before her, he raised his hand slowly to salute.

Chris and Chloe jumped as the detail fired their salute and tears ran down their face when "Taps" was played. After the service was over and Mike's body was laid in its grave, Chris, Chloe, Amy, Brian and Marilyn walked to their car, holding and comforting each other. General Johnson walked over to meet them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weber," he said. "You didn't hear this from me, but I got word not too long ago that General Masters was found dead in his apartment from an apparent suicide. I thought you might like to know."

"Thank you, general," Chris said.

"Your son meant a lot to us all," the general said. "He certainly was one of a kind. By the way, Mr. Weber. I've read all your books and I thoroughly enjoyed them. Your historic novel about Vietnam was very well done in my opinion."

"I'm glad you liked it, general," Chris said.

"I have an idea. Perhaps in your next book, you could explore the life and love of a good, decent, honorable man. Do you think you might have that in you?" he asked. Chris looked at the site where his son had just been laid to rest. He nodded his head.

"I think so, general," he said. "And I know just the man to write about."

"I look forward to reading that book," the general said, shaking Chris' hand. "Mrs. Weber," he said, touching the bill of his hat.

Six months later, the president held a ceremony at the White House, handing Chris the Medal of Honor. Chris accepted it and shook the president's hand. A few months later, his next book was published.

He titled it, "No Greater Love: The Life Story of Captain Michael Weber, United States Army Special Forces." Below that was written: "With special foreword by General Avery Johnson, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff." The book remained on the New York Times best-seller list for many months. In this way, his loving son would forever be remembered, Chris thought with a smile. And maybe, he thought, Mike's soul would finally find peace.