The War Journals: Resistance

  “Grandma! Grandma!” JoAnne wailed hysterically as we cleared the war-zone.

  “It's not your fault, JoAnne,” Liz told her, as she and Jesse tried to calm her down.

  “It is,” she sobbed miserably, “It's all my fault, if I hadn't got lost, she wouldn't be dead.”

  “She went back because she loved you and couldn’t let you get caught alone in there.”

  “I killed her,” she shrieked.

  “No honey, that's not true and you know it.”

  “Liz,” I said untying my bloody hand from the gun “we've got to calm her down, she's starting to distract the pilots.”

  “Christ Connor!” she said angrily, “she just watched Jeanine die, what do you want me to do?”

  “I know that Liz,” I said trying to keep my cool, for their sake.

  “This isn't some random person, these are people we care about.” she said “they died Connor, they all died because you had to keep on fighting. Because you drug them into this.”

  “I had no choice.”

  “No, but they did and you made the decision for them.”

  “You know I didn't want any of this.” I said trying to calm her, putting my hands on her shoulders.

  “Don't fucking touch me,” She said, slapping me hard in the face. “How many more people are you going to get killed because you have something to prove?”

  “Liz!” Jesse said making his way over to us, JoAnne looking on in shock. “Just go sit down.”

  “Give her one of these,” I said pulling the pain killers out of a cargo pocket. Liz grabbed them, not saying another word.

  “You need a medic,” he said looking at my right arm, covered in blood from my hand up to my elbow.

  “We'll be in Seattle soon,” I said “Go take care of your girlfriend.”

  “Hey,” he said quietly as I turned to sit down across from them, “We knew damn well what we were getting into. All of us.”

  The rest of the journey was painfully quiet, only the sound of JoAnne's sobbing and the roar of the propellers could be heard. Eventually, the painkillers kicked in and she mellowed out, falling asleep in Jesse's arms. Liz wouldn't even look at me.

  “Leopard One, come in Leopard One.”

  “Go for Leopard One.”

  “You are being rerouted, Stand by for the coordinates for your arrival.”

  “Roger that.” the pilot said as new coordinates were given.

  “Be advised that you will be landing on a civilian building. A team will be on hand to debrief you.”

  “Affirmative, Leopard One out.”

  “Jesse,” I said, he looked up seeming exhausted. “Fresh clip, safety off. Be ready for anything.”

  “Got ya,” he said, adjusting himself so he could reload his rifle without waking JoAnne. I handed Liz a pistol, she took it without looking at me.

  We were now directly over the city, flying through downtown past the skyscrapers. The sun was beginning to set, it was hauntingly beautiful as the red-orange glow began to encompass the buildings around us.

  “This is it.” The co-pilot said pointing toward a 50 or 60 story building in the heart of downtown Seattle.

  “The Vermillion?” he said to himself, “What the hell is a Vermillion?”

  “I think it's the color of the building.” The pilot responded, he had only spoken a few times since we left.