Strength of the Soul Pt. 02

"Uh, yeah. That sounds good," Rhonda said nervously. "Please."

"Cream or sugar?" Rita asked.

"Both, please," Rhonda replied.

"Why don't you have a seat and I'll be right back," Rita said. Rhonda sat down on the couch as Lisa talked about her night with the Keyes. A few minutes later, Rita returned, handing Rhonda a cup of hot coffee.

"Thank you. That's delicious," Rhonda said when she took the first sip.

"Are you all right, Mrs. Barnes?" Rita asked blandly. "You seem a bit... nervous."

"Honestly, I am... scared," Rhonda said. "For Mike, you know. I hate it when he's out there doing God-only-knows what."

"I can't say I blame you for that, Mrs. Barnes," Rhonda heard Harold say from behind her. She turned to see Harold wearing the green fatigues of an Army colonel. What? "I think I'd be a little frightened if I were in your shoes," the man she knew as "Harold," said. He smiled and sat down in a chair across from the couch.

"I don't understand," Rhonda said. "Why are you wearing... that uniform?" Harold looked at Rita, who took one of Lisa's hands and led her away. Rhonda had a terrible feeling about this.

"I think we need to have a talk, Mrs. Barnes," Harold said.

"About... what?" Rhonda asked, her hands starting to shake.

"I think you know what, Mrs. Barnes," Harold told her. "Do you know what the penalty is for sabotage? How about for aiding and abetting an enemy of the United States? Or how about conspiracy to commit murder? No? Let's just say that right now, you stand to face the rest of your life behind bars. That is only if you're lucky if you take my meaning. Is that what you want?"

"No," Rhonda squeaked, tears falling down her face.

"Then help me out here, Mrs. Barnes. Help me bury Jim Tyson, and I'll do what I can to minimize your jail time. Oh, yes, you're going to jail. I can't stop that. But it doesn't have to be for the rest of your life."

"Even though I didn't do anything?" Rhonda asked.

"Didn't do anything? You knew Tyson planned to sabotage your husband's craft. Tyson assured you that sabotage would lead to your husband's death. Yet you never reported it to anyone, not even your husband. So yes, you'll face jail time for that. Cooperate with me fully, and I'll do my best to make sure you only spend a couple of years in a minimum-security facility."

"What do you want to know?" Rhonda asked, sobbing.

"I want to know everything, Mrs. Barnes. About your relationship with Jim Tyson, what you two planned to do to your husband - everything. Was it your idea to murder Mike? Or his?"

"Oh God, no," Rhonda cried. "That was all Jim. I begged him not to hurt Mike. Please, you have to believe me."

"Actually, Mrs. Barnes, I believe you," Harold said. Rhonda looked at Harold with hope in her eyes. "So, tell me everything about the relationship between you and Jim Tyson." Harold wrote in his notepad as Rhonda told him her story - how she first met Jim in a civilian bar in southern California during the Korean War, how their relationship grew, how Jim introduced her to Mike - everything.

By the time Rhonda wound down, Harold had a good picture of the ongoing relationship between Rhonda and Jim. It was clear to him that Jim was the instigator of the whole mess, and Rhonda was nothing more than a tool.

"Will that help you out?" Rhonda finally asked. Harold nodded his head as he placed the notepad in his pocket.

"Yes, it helps a great deal, Mrs. Barnes. I have a much better picture of Jimbo Tyson now. Thank you. It's a good start."

"Can I take my daughter and go home now?" Rhonda asked desperately.

"I'm afraid that's not going to be possible, at least for now, Mrs. Barnes. Not until we have Col. Tyson in custody, anyway." Harold snapped his fingers, and two large military policemen entered the front room.

"What's this?" Rhonda asked, getting agitated.

"I'll need you to accompany these two gentlemen. They'll take you someplace... safe."

"You're arresting me?" Her shaking was back, very intensely.

"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Barnes."

"You said you would help me," she blurted out, tears dripping down her cheeks.

"And I will. After we have Tyson in custody."

"Can I at least say goodbye to my daughter?" Rhonda begged.

"Of course." Harold turned to the back of the house and called for Rita to return. Rita came out with Lisa in tow. Harold turned to the little girl. "Sweetheart, your

mother is going to be working with us, and I need her to go someplace where she'll be safe."

"Is Mommy in trouble?" Lisa asked, sadness written on her face. Harold threw a startled looked at Rhonda as he thought about his answer, then turned back to Lisa.

"I hope not. But she's going to help us catch a really bad guy. So why don't you give your mother a hug and a kiss? You'll see her again real soon. I promise." A tearful Lisa hugged Rhonda, and the two said their farewells.

"Oh, I'll need your house keys, Mrs. Barnes," Harold said. Rhonda handed her keys over without a word and then turned to the uniformed military policemen.

"Let's go," she said tersely. She hoped that this meant Mike would be okay - and she wouldn't have to face him.

...

Jim Tyson stood in the operations room, watching the monitors that tracked Mike's progress to the H't'quiy ship. According to the trackers, he was more than halfway to his rendezvous with destiny. Telemetry indicated the X-67C was so far performing well beyond anyone's expectations. He noted with satisfaction that no one had spotted the damage he inflicted on the retro-unit control modules.

"Nerve-wracking, isn't it?" General Allen said as he stepped up next to Jim.

"Yes, sir. It's the waiting that gets to you," Jim replied.

"If all goes well, Major Barnes should be able to visually acquire the H't'quiy ship any second now."

"I don't see how he could miss it," Jim replied.

"Let's hope the stealth technology works as well as advertised."

"Yes, sir," Jim said. The general moved on, looking at the consoles of the technicians monitoring the flight. Jim used the absence to slip into the break room to warm up his coffee and call Rhonda. He dialed the Barnes' home phone, but no one answered.

Strange, he thought. Rhonda was always close to the phone. Perplexed, he hung up and dialed again but got no answer. Maybe she's stuck at the neighbors, Jim thought before returning to the large room.

...

Mike closely monitored his instruments, taking only short glimpses out the windows at the blue planet below. So far, "Little Angel" was performing better than he - or anyone else - could have expected. It was as if this ship belonged in space. Looking at his chronometer, he realized he should be able to see his target.

Looking up, he saw it - a large sphere sitting in the middle of what reminded him of a doughnut. Even though he was still nearly 1,000 miles away from it, he was struck by the sheer size of the thing and wondered if a single 200-megaton nuclear warhead would be enough. At the speed he was traveling, he would be on top of it in no time, so he began preparing for his bombing run.

Right on time, the countdown clock flared red, indicating it was nearly time to launch the nuclear missile. He turned on his heads-up display and looked for a suitable target. He found it in the form of what looked like an open bay on the side of the alien craft. He locked onto the bay and watched the clock count down.

He broke the safety wire, armed the firing switch under his thumb, and began counting down, "5...4...3...2...1...0..."

He pressed the button on his control stick and saw the missile launch, racing for its destination. He wasted no time and fired the flight control program that would send "Little Angel" into a large arc back toward Edwards Air Force Base. The control jets followed their programming, and Mike saw the alien spaceship move out of his line of sight. So far, he remained undetected.

Knowing he only had a few seconds before detonation, Mike flipped down his protective face shield to protect his eyes from the nuclear flash. He wasn't worried about the shock wave as Deke had explained there's no air in space, therefore, no shock wave.

Mike saw the reflection of the flash and knew the weapon had detonated. He resisted the urge to look, focusing on his instruments to ensure he was on track for re-entry. He waited a minute, then two. Then he looked and saw a giant fireball in space where the alien vessel had been.

He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw flashes of debris flying out from where the vessel had been. He breathed a sigh of relief and reached for the communications console. Then his collision alarm sounded, and something struck the left side of his ship, sending it out of control.

"Oh no you don't," Mike cursed to himself, quickly responding to the collision. Fortunately, Deke trained him well. Using his thrusters, he checked the tumbling, and he was able to get "Little Angel" under control. But by then, he had used up more fuel than anticipated and wondered if he had enough to make it back.

"Don't worry, darlin'. Daddy's coming home," Mike said. He keyed his microphone, hoping to reach base, but got only static. He wondered if the collision damaged his antenna.

...

"Sir, the package has been delivered," one of the operators announced. "The target has been completely eliminated."

"Good. Any word from the '67?" General Allen asked.

"No, sir. We can't reach him."

"Dammit! Where is Barnes?"

"No idea, sir. The trackers lost him shortly after the detonation."

"Was he at a safe distance from the alien ship when the device exploded?"

"As far as we can tell, yes, sir," the operator replied. "It's as if he just... disappeared, sir."

"FIND HIM! NOW!"

"Yes, sir. On it!" The operators frantically worked their consoles as Jim looked on, barely resisting the urge to smirk, thinking about Mike's widow accepting his medal from the president. He would have to comfort her after the ceremony.

...

Mike got his bearings and looked at the planet's surface below. His navigational computer was offline, and his instruments didn't seem much better. He realized he would have to re-enter the atmosphere flying by the seat of his pants. Looking down, he recognized the Mississippi River and knew he would be over New Mexico soon. It was now or never, he thought.

"Fuck it," he said, pulling on the knob that would fire his retro-units. "Muroc Dry Lake is huge, and I sure as hell can't miss it from this altitude." The four rockets fired, slowing down his rate of speed. He would be hitting the atmosphere soon at this rate and angle of descent. He raised the X67's nose, using the reticles on his side viewports as guides. This placed the craft's well-protected belly to take the heat's full force as he re-entered the atmosphere.

This wasn't something Deke taught him - it was something he learned during his time in the simulator, and he hoped the training unit was as accurate as Deke said it was. Before he knew it, the craft began to buffet, and his wings glowed a bright red. He prayed they would hold together.

...

"Anything?" General Allen asked.

"Not yet, sir," one of the operators said.

"General! We just received a report of a sonic boom about 200 miles west of Flagstaff, Arizona," another operator announced.

"Flagstaff?" Deke asked, surprised. Jim looked shaken as if in a panic. No! It can't be! Mike should be burned to a cinder by now, he thought. Operators began calling the "Little Angel," but there was no response. Several minutes later, another operator ran into the room, excited.

"General! It's the '67! The tower just reported they saw him do a victory roll on the final approach to the dry lake bed! He made it!"

"Tell that hot dog to get his ass back on the deck! Now!" the General ordered as the room burst into cheers. A fleeting smile of relief crossed the General's face.

"Yes, sir!" the operator shouted. General Allen turned to Deke and Jim.

"You two, come with me," the general ordered. The three men ran to the general's jeep, parked outside the operations building. A sergeant jumped in the driver's seat and fired the vehicle up.

"Dry lake bed, Sergeant. As fast as you can get there," General Allen ordered.

"Yes, sir," the sergeant said, shifting the jeep in gear.

...

General Allen's jeep and several other vehicles converged on the still-smoking X-67C, now sitting motionless at the end of the long dry lake bed. Seeing Mike walking away from the "Little Angel," General Allen held up his hand, motioning for the sergeant to stop. All four of them got out of the jeep as a crash and recovery truck braked alongside the X-67.

"Mike! I can't believe it! You made it," Jim shouted as he ran ahead of the others.

"No thanks to you, you sorry son-of-a-bitch," Mike growled, meeting his former friend with a fist that seemed to come all the way from the Golden Gate Bridge.

"What the hell?" General Allen asked, shocked that Mike had just punched his commanding officer square in the nose right in front of witnesses. "What's the meaning of this, Major?"

"I believe I can answer that, sir," another man spoke up from behind the General. Turning, General Allen saw an Army colonel getting out of an olive-drab staff car.

"Colonel Carlisle. You have a report that can explain this?" the general asked.

"Yes, sir, I do," Harold said. Reaching into a satchel slung over his shoulder, Harold pulled out the control module plugs Staff Sergeant Newton gave him that morning and handed them to General Allen.

"What are these?" the general asked.

"Control module plugs for the 67's retro-units, General. The ones Col. Tyson sabotaged yesterday, sir," Harold said.

"Sabotaged?" General Allen asked shock and anger on his face. "That's a very serious charge, Colonel. I hope you can back that up."

"I can, General," Harold said. The general's face turned red with rage as he considered the officer Mike had just punched.

"And to think I endorsed your promotion to brigadier. Colonel, get this... piece of shit... off my lake bed," General Allen snarled.

"Yes, sir," Harold said, moving behind Jim, handcuffs at the ready. "Colonel Tyson, you are under arrest for sabotage, conspiracy to commit murder, and other violations including Article 134 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice." Deke, Mike, and General Allen watched as Harold forced Jim into the back of his staff car.

"Major, your wife is already in custody and your daughter is staying with us until you finish here," Harold told Mike.

"Thank you, neighbor," Mike said. Harold smiled, got in his car, and drove off. General Allen looked at Mike before speaking.

"Under the circumstances, Major, I'll overlook your... breach of protocol. But so help me, if you ever think about punching another senior officer, I'll have an Article 15 on you so fast it'll make your head spin. Understand me, young man?"

"Yes, sir," Mike said. General Allen smiled, then slapped Mike's shoulder.

"C'mon, Major. Let's get you out of that suit. Beer is on me—it's not every day one of my pilots saves humanity!" General Allen said.

"Yes, sir," Mike replied happily. A beer sounded very good to him right about now.

"By the way, that was some pretty fancy work you did up there," Deke said. "It's going to make a helluva debrief, but you'll surely never fly combat and might not go into space again. Official Washington doesn't risk its heroes, you know. Sad because we'll go to the moon someday, but if anyone can stay in the astronaut program, it's you, the guy who saved the world!" Deke smiled warmly as he shook Mike's hand. "Good job."

"Thank you, Deke. I owe it all to you," Mike said. Deke chuckled at that.

"Bullshit. But I'll take what I can get."

"Take us back to base, Sergeant," General Allen said when the four men crowded into the jeep.

"Yes, sir," the sergeant said, whipping the jeep around. Mike took one last look at the X-67. It had been a damn good ship and, as promised, brought him back home. No matter what he flew after this, a piece of that ship would always be in his heart.

...

Epilogue:

"Did you come here to gloat?" Rhonda asked when her soon-to-be ex-husband sat down across the table from her. He had been back for three days now, seen an attorney, and had her served with divorce papers.

"No," Mike said. "I just wanted to hear your side of this. Maybe try to get some closure. Why, Rhonda? Why did you do it? And with Jim Tyson, of all people?"

"I've known Jim longer than I knew you," Rhonda said. "I know you don't believe me, but I did fall in love with you. I wouldn't have married you otherwise." Mike considered her response. She didn't have the same defiant attitude she displayed before he left.

"You knew he planned to sabotage my ship, didn't you?"

"Yes," Rhonda said in a small voice.

"And you knew that if he was successful, I wouldn't have made it back."

"Again, yes," Rhonda said.

"Why didn't you say anything? Did you want me killed or something?"

"No, I didn't want you hurt. I begged Jim not to hurt you."

"But you said nothing. To no one."

"No, I didn't. I was... scared," Rhonda said.

"Of what? Jim? Me? What?"

"Mostly Jim," she replied. "He can be pretty scary sometimes."

"Hmmm. Yeah, I can see that," Mike said. "By the way, I have something you should see."

"What?" Mike pulled an envelope from his pocket, then took out a folded piece of paper and set it on the table. Rhonda looked at it, not understanding what she was seeing.

"This," Mike said.

"What is this?" Rhonda asked.

"It's a genetic comparison between me and Lisa," Mike said. "I'm told the technology is still in the experimental stages, but it's still quite accurate. I know you wanted Lisa to be Jim's child, but that's not what this says."

"What does it say? I don't understand this gibberish and all these numbers."

"It says Lisa is my daughter," Mike said. Rhonda's face collapsed further. "What, did that disappoint you? Too bad. Look, Rhonda, I know you're going to be in jail for a few years. Harold told me you've been cooperating with him fully. Sign the divorce papers, and we can end this sham of a marriage. Deal?"

"Yeah, okay, Mike. It's the least I can do," Rhonda said. "Just do me a favor, please?"

"What?"

"Take care of our girl. Send me some pictures now and then. Just don't... bring her to see me. I don't want her to see me like... this." Mike thought for a few moments, then nodded his head.

"All right, Rhonda. I understand. But you're going to have to tell her some day."

"I will, Mike," Rhonda said. "After I'm out of where ever they send me."

"Well, I have to get back. General Allen put me in charge of the squadron, which means I have paper to push. I don't know when I'll see you again. Just sign the paperwork, okay?"

"Okay, Mike," Rhonda said, wiping a tear from her face. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Rhonda," Mike said before leaving.

...

Four months later, Mike was promoted to Lt. Colonel and officially made the commanding officer of the squadron Jim once commanded. In recognition of his service against the H't'quiy, President Kennedy presented him with a specially-allocated Medal of Honor. After the ceremony, Mike introduced the president to his daughter.

"And what do you want to be when you grow up, young lady?" the president asked, kneeling in front of Lisa.

"I want to be an astronaut. Like my Daddy," Lisa said with a smile. JFK smiled wide and nodded his head.

"I tell you what, young lady. You hold on to that dream with all of your heart," the president replied. "That's quite a girl you have there, Col. Barnes," he remarked after standing up.

"Yes, sir," Mike agreed, smiling with pride at Lisa.

Harold's investigation of Jim Tyson and Rhonda Barnes concluded two months later. Jim faced numerous charges and opted for a general court-martial. His wife, Janice, had already divorced him and left for greener pastures with their two children.