Eagle airships create very little sound even when descending. Nonetheless, Ashley plainly heard the arrival of the transport because it came moments before dawn’s first light, disturbing the gentle chatter of the day’s first songbirds.
The sound caused her to sit up in bed not because it woke her-she had already been awake-but because the arrival of Eagle One to the lakeside mansion came as a surprise. She had not expected Trevor’s return for quite some time. Well, in honesty, based on the reports in the media and whispers overheard, she wondered if Trevor would ever return from the front.
Unlike other returning soldiers, Trevor would not receive a romantic homecoming from his ‘wife’. Ashley walked by his side and played her role in the grand scheme of The Empire, but it had been years since she had shared her bed with him, having moved to one of the guestrooms quite some time ago.
Nonetheless, she grabbed a thick white robe and walked along the hall to the main staircase. As she neared the bottom, the front door opened and Trevor hurried in flanked by his Rottweiler bodyguards; their spiked silver collars glinted in the dim light.
“Trevor? Is something wrong?”
“Where is JB? Is he awake?”
“What? Jorgie? At this hour? The sun isn’t even up yet.”
“Ashley, I need to speak to him.”
The voice of the couple’s son carried out from a dark spot further along the first floor hallway.
“I am here, Father.”
Ashley finished her descent of the stairs and stood next to Trevor in the hall. JB-who had turned nine years old on the same day Voggoth’s armies blasted through the Rockies-revealed himself in the gentle light of a lonely lamp. He wore racing car pajamas and clutched a soft little stuffed animal-Bunny-wrapped in a small blanket.
A tremble in the boy’s body suggested Jorgie felt frightened.
Ashley took backseat to Trevor on all things, except her child. When she had awoke from the strange green goo that had transported her through time along with thousands of other people to ‘ride the ark’ like life boats escaping the initial storm of the invasion, Ashley had come to know that very little in the world belonged to her, including the man she once loved.
But JB did belong to her. She did not care what the doctors said. She did not understand the significance of JB’s body containing a massive amount of neurotransmitters-many of an unidentifiable configuration-nor did she care. She understood him to be special the way all mothers thought their child special.
The voice of the dangerous stranger who had invaded their home six years ago replayed in Ashley’s mind: “You and Trevor here. You started this. You caused Armageddon.”
That cause, according to the man eventually revealed as Trevor’s half-brother, had been the conception of their son.
Regardless, the boy belonged to her. She had earned that ownership during years of care and comfort while JB’s father raced off fighting the war and even traveling to another dimension.
She would not sit idly by. She answered Jorgie before Trevor could say a word, “What are you doing up so early? Are you feeling okay?”
“I am afraid, Mommy.”
To his credit, JB found his mother’s eyes first. Something had happened last summer. Certainly the boy still admired his father’s leadership. He still re-enacted battles with toy soldiers. But JB had come to realize that his father did not truly love his mother. That ‘mommy’ lived all alone.
What a terrible revelation that must have been for the boy.
“What are you afraid of, sweetie?” Ashley glided to JB and knelt in front of him.
“I don’t know. Bad dreams. I think-I think I am afraid of Father. Of what he’s planning.”
Ashley whipped about and glared at Trevor who cocked his head to one side in an expression of curiosity like a dog hearing a new sound.
“What is it I’m planning, buddy?”
The boy struggled with something. His lips opened and closed, but he did not have an answer. “I don’t know.”
Trevor took a step closer to his son.
“I have to talk to you, Jorgie. There’s something I need to know.”
Ashley felt herself become a non-factor in the conversation, a position to which she had grown accustomed over the years. This was her life; a bit player on Trevor’s grand stage. She needed to deliver her lines to the public or press with aplomb, then stand aside and let the star work his show.
“Last year-when the bad guys had me-they brought you to that island, too.”
Jorgie closed his eyes and nodded.
“They tried to put you in the same machine I was in. But something happened.”
“Don’t Trevor. Don’t scare him. He doesn’t need to re-live that.”
He ignored her and pushed, “You did something. I’ve only heard about it second-hand, I never asked you directly. Not really. Not like I am now.”
“I don’t want to think about that,” Jorgie opened his eyes and insisted, but it did not sound as if he might be afraid. It sounded more like he felt it inappropriate to discuss.
“You have to, Jorgie. I must know. It’s important.”
Something did surface in the boy’s memories. He turned to his mother and said, “They were bad men, Mommy. The Missionary man said he went looking for you back when I was in your belly. Back when the war first started.”
This confused Ashley. She answered, “I don’t-I don’t remember anything like that.”
“You were gone,” Trevor reminded. “He must have went looking for you right away. Something saved you. Something took you away on the ark. When I got to your house there was nothing. But-but at my parent’s house,” Ashley saw Trevor’s mind return to the early days of the invasion. After a pause he continued, “There were a couple of Deadheads waiting for me. They killed my parents. If it hadn’t been for the dogs, I would’ve been killed. Deadheads come from Voggoth’s realm. That son of a bitch tried to take us out right off the bat. I’m guessing that was pretty much against the rules.”
“What do you mean- rules?”
Trevor brushed her aside and spoke to JB, “But what happened then? What happened when they plugged you into the machine?”
His eyes gazed at something far away; perhaps the memories of that horrible day last summer.
He told his parents in an angry growl, “They weren’t supposed to do that. I don’t think Voggoth knew. I think he was angry with them for doing it.”
Ashley glanced at Trevor as if demanding an explanation. He offered none. She returned her attention to Jorgie and asked, “What do you mean by that? What happened while you were there, Jorgie?”
“They’re all dead,” JB said with a stiff lip.
“You killed them all?”
The son corrected his father, “I suppose so. But Father, they were dead before I got there. They are all empty. Everything about them is empty.”
“And when they put you in the machine..?” Trevor led.
“I filled it,” JB said and Ashley saw a hint of anger; of revenge in the boy’s face. Her child had found satisfaction in whatever he had done to The Order.
“You filled it?” She asked. “What does that mean?”
Trevor answered in another riddle, “Life over death. Or-life conquered the emptiness.”
“Yes-yes that is it, Father. When I touched the machine of Voggoth I felt as if there was much more to me. I felt-I felt something powerful inside. I do not understand. But I found it easy to control his machine. It as was as lifeless as-as…” Jorgie held his stuffed animal aloft. “As lifeless as Bunny.” He quickly added, “But I love Bunny.”
Ashley felt a knot of in her stomach. It spun and turn and grew larger and larger with each passing second.
She told Trevor, “I don’t know what this has to do with anything. Jorgie is a special boy. We’ve known that for years. He’s been through enough already. Let him be.”
Trevor stood alongside his son and placed an arm on his shoulder.
“You are special, JB. And I love you.”
“I love you, too, Father.”
Something in the way Trevor stared at Jorgie made Ashley uneasy. She felt urged to speak. To defend.
“No, Trevor. Leave my son out of all this.”
“I can’t,” Trevor’s answer came fast and Ashley felt the entire house spin.
“You leave him alone!”
JB retreated into the darkness of the hallway.
“He may be the answer, Ashley. If he is why all this started, then maybe he is the key.”
Ashley stood nose to nose with Trevor and glared but despite the mask of defiance she felt a sense of inevitability creep into the fear. From the day Dr. Maple had told them about JB’s unique chemistry she feared this end. Perhaps that is why she had forbid any further tests.
“He is our son, Trevor. You will not put him in the middle of all this.”
Trevor took hold of Ashley’s shoulders.
“Ashley-he is the middle of all this.”
General Jon Brewer removed his cap and ran the sleeve of his uniform across his sweaty forehead.
I’m going to ring the neck of the guy who decided to make these uniforms black.
Admittedly the sweat dripping from his crew cut came as much from the task at hand as the warm May afternoon. Of course the overheated, cracked blacktop that comprised the Poplar Street Bridge reflected much of the mid-day sun giving the long deck girder span a frying pan feel.
The engineering company working the bridge coped by rolling up sleeves or simply removing their shirts. A few managed to sneak quick dips into the waters of the Mississippi.
Jon did not begrudge any of it. The men carried out a difficult task under a hot sun preparing last-ditch defenses while knowing Voggoth’s coming onslaught would probably be the end of the line for many of them.
General Brewer crossed the empty eight lanes of the roadway from the south side to the north railing and glanced over. Several soldiers worked on ropes to affix brackets where charges would eventually be placed. They also pre-wired the bridge so that, when the time came, detonation would be easy.
A Chinook dual-rotor helicopter flew overhead on its way east; somewhere below on one of the concrete supports an officer barked an order; far off to his right a crane lifted an artillery piece into position along the railroad tracks on the outskirts of East St. Louis. Yet it was another sound that grabbed the general’s attention. This sound came from the docks in front of the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial; a cozy park from which sprouted the trademark St. Louis arch. That icon still stood, but much of the foliage in the park had long ago burned to cinders.
The sound of laughter, chatter, and gentle music came from the decks of the red and white Tom Sawyer riverboat a couple of hundred feet north of his position. Jon squinted and saw a party there complete with fancy dress and champagne glasses. Nearly a dozen people enjoyed the afternoon while the soldiers toiled. A subtle smell of grilled meat carried in the air tempting his nose with a barbecue aroma.
Jon could have been angry at the partygoers, but as he watched he came to understand the nature of their celebration. He had seen similar parties in the last few months and, considering the mood permeating The Empire, he expected to see many more now that Voggoth raced across the Great Plains unchecked.
“Sir?”
The voice from pulled Jon’s attention away from the riverboat to a young officer with a freckled face wearing a uniform with a patch depicting a hand holding an axe. This symbol Jon recognized immediately as belonging to the 1 ^ st Mechanized Division. As for the face, he recognized that immediately, too.
“Benny! Hey, welcome to St. Louis.”
“Yes sir,” Captain Benny Duda replied.
“Relax, Benny, it’s me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jon should have known better. Benny Duda had been no more than twelve when he had ridden north as Stonewall McAllister’s bugle boy (with a trumpet). He served by Stonewall’s side until the general’s death during the last days of the California War.
The sounds of celebration found their way to Benny’s ears. He looked around the general and shot a nasty look in that direction.
“A party?”
Jon distracted Benny with a question. “First Mech back in the line?”
“Not all the way yet. 4 ^ th Brigade is unloading right now. 5 ^ th brigade is, well, not much of a brigade anymore even with the new recruits. Captain Bass’ mobile artillery is trucking in and should be here in a couple of days.”
The unmistakable sound of a champagne cork carried across the open space between the bridge and the riverboat. Even the soldiers working on the span gave the group a quick glance before carrying on.
“What the hell-” Benny led but Jon kept him focused: “Captain, do you understand your orders?”
“I think so.”
“We’re taking down most of the bridges on the Mississippi, but leaving the ones here in St. Louis intact. Our little way of taking some initiative away from the enemy; make this place look like the easiest way to get across. When Shep and the rest of 1 ^ st Corps gets out here we’ll be able to better position your boys, but for now you need to dig into the city. We’ve spent the last month building up some set positions, artillery emplacements and clearing kill zones to the north and south, but St. Louis here is one big trap for Voggoth.”
Duda asked, “A ghost town, right?”
Jon knew what Duda meant. Unlike many of the eastern and southern cities leveled by organized armies during the invasion, St. Louis had suffered through predators and strange monsters. Or, rather, alien animals. Most of the people had been chased away or killed during the first year of attack leaving.
Of course there was another type of ghost city, too. Places like Oklahoma City, Cincinnati, and Seattle. Places overrun by Voggoth’s legions and the entire population killed in grisly fashion but, when The Empire had come calling, those monsters had disappeared in the same manner in which many thousands of people vanished during the initial weeks of the invasion some eleven years prior.
Jon answered Benny, “Pretty much, yeah.”
“Then it should be easy to dig in. But sir, a Leviathan can level a city like this in five minutes.”
Jon pointed out, “The Nazis leveled Stalingrad with Stukas before they moved in. Soldier, bombed-out buildings make great foxholes. Now look, I’ve got to head to the estate for a big meeting. General Fink is organizing the withdrawal to these lines. His HQ is at McConnell Air Force base in Wichita but he’ll be pulling back before the end of the week.”
“How long ‘til we get hit here?”
A distant sound of glass breaking-just a soft tink — floated through the air from the riverboat. The music still played a soft rock song from the 70s. Sad Eyes or something like that.
Benny tried glancing over Jon’s shoulder but Brewer kept the younger man focused on the conversation. “Am I some kind of fortune teller? Why don’t you go ask Voggoth when he plans to knock on our door?”
“Of course, sir. I mean, um, of course not. I mean, you’re not a fortune teller. Sorry.”
Jon softened. He had not meant to be so hard but he did not want Benny worrying about the morbid party on that riverboat.
He remembered playing touch football with Benny back in Pennsylvania during that first post-Armageddon Thanksgiving. Of the group that played that day, Tolbert had died during the Battle of Five Armies less than a year later, Dustin McBride had disappeared-presumed dead-while leading his cavalry unit in pursuit of errant Red Hands, Dante Jones had killed himself in the face of Trevor’s return last summer, and now it appeared Anita Nehru had gone insane.
Benny, for his part, scored the winning touchdown that Thanksgiving by faking out Ross, a former NFL linebacker.
Just a kid.
“Sir?”
“Huh? Oh. It seems they’ve slowed down. They could probably get here in two weeks or so if they wanted, but it seems as if they might just take a little longer.”
Duda asked the question on many of the top brass’ minds, “Why would they slow down? We’re kind of in a bad spot.”
Jon ignored the question. “While I’m back in Pennsylvania you’ve got to oversee the set up here. Dig in, watch the skies, and get ready for what’s to come. I’m guessing that Shep will get back here first and take over operational command of this sector through First Corp.”
“Okay,” but Benny’s attention slipped again over Jon’s shoulder, toward the old style riverboat at rest in port. “Um-sir?”
Benny moved around Jon with his eyes focused on the riverboat. No more voices or laughter, just recorded music.
Jon closed his eyes and remembered a sign he had read on a front porch in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania long ago:
“Here hangs the South Side Suicide Club,
We couldn’t take it no more.
So we dressed in our best, stood straight and abreast,
And kicked away stools numberin’ four.”
“Sir, I think they’re all-they’re all…”
Jon turned around and shared the view with Benny Duda.
The party goers lay strewn along the decks of the riverboat, dressed in their best with a few still holding the spiked champagne glasses that had served as the final act of the celebration. A large banner strung across the bow said to the world, “Goodbye!” with a yellow smiley face punctuating the message.
Lori Brewer held her nine-year-old daughter’s hand as the pair left the cafeteria in the church basement and walked the perimeter road toward the estate. A few scattered gray clouds moved overhead threatening to sprinkle but nothing yet materialized.
As she neared the main gate she saw several usual sights: K9s walking the grounds, heavily armed human sentries, and support personnel in uniforms ranging from suits to tactical BDUs walking to and fro.
She saw something very unusual, too.
Just north of the main entrance to the estate ran a driveway that traveled a short distance to both the A-frame house where the Nehrus lived and the garage on their property which included an apartment overhead.
At the end of that driveway stood a blonde woman sporting a ponytail drooping to her shoulder blades and wearing a black beret over a green BDU/black tank top ensemble, not to mention a sword strapped to her leg.
Nina Forest? Here?
Lori bypassed the estate.
“Mom? Where we going?”
Lori ignored her daughter’s protest and approached the visitor from behind.
“Nin-I mean, Captain Forest?”
Nina turned around and a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, taking Lori by surprise.
“Mrs. Brewer? Hey, hello.”
The events of the previous summer had drawn the two together for a brief time as Lori’s husband, Jon, came to Nina’s rescue. Yet it was the events of a decade ago that Lori missed most of all. She and Nina were friends in the early days. Then The Order’s implant stole those memories away.
“I was hoping I’d run into you.”
“You were?”
“Yes.” Nina gave her attention to the dark haired nine year old for a moment. “Hello, there, how old are you?”
“I’m nine years old!”
Lori remembered her manners and made introductions.
“This is my daughter Catherine. Cathy, this is Captain Forest.”
The captain bent over and told the girl, “Nina.”
“Nina?” Lori’s daughter jumped. “Hey! I’m Nina, too”
Lori shuffled uncomfortably.
“My middle name is Nina! Catherine Nina Brewer!”
Nina Forest considered that revelation with an air of suspicion and turned to Lori saying, “What a coincidence.”
“Um, Cathy, why don’t you head on up to the mansion. Go find a good book to read in the den or something. I’ll catch up.”
But Catherine’s attention focused on the sword strapped to Nina’s leg. Her eyes traced the weapon up and down.
“Cathy? Are you listening to me?”
“Oh, right. Okay, Mom.” zzz
The nine year old walked away turning around twice to study the blond woman with the pony tail and black beret before finally moving through the open main gates. Nina and Lori watched her go.
As Catherine left ear shot, Lori asked, “What brings you to the estate?”
“General Shepherd is on his way to the front so I’m hitching a ride with him. After the meeting tomorrow we’re both going to head west.”
Lori sensed that something weighed on Nina’s mind and she desperately wished she could share everything she knew. A promise made years ago kept her silent.
Nina said, “Listen, I never got a chance to tell you ‘thank you’. Sometimes I’m not so good with that.”
Lori felt a strong sense of deja vu and stumbled, “Um-for what?”
“For a bunch of things. For helping me adopt my daughter way back when. You pulled the strings on that. You and Jim Brock, that is. And also for last year. Things move so fast and all that, well, look I’m just saying that you kind of came to the rescue.”
A car drove by. The two women turned and walked together toward the estate.
Lori said, “You were the one who did the rescuing. If it weren’t for you and Gordon, hell, we never would have found out.”
Nina asked, “How is he?”
Lori shook her head as she answered, “He still can’t use his legs. They don’t think he ever will. A few months ago he returned to work but he sort of stays in one of the houses here on the lake and refuses to go out. I don’t know. A guy like that-”
“You’re thinking maybe he would have been happier if that bullet had killed him.”
“Maybe,” Lori said.
“Tell me something,” Nina switched subjects as they passed two sentries and entered the grounds of the estate. “You and I were friends once, weren’t we?”
That stopped Lori in her tracks.
Nina went on, “It’s okay. I don’t remember everything from that year. Not at all. But there are pieces coming back to me. And I’ve seen some old photographs and stuff.”
“Oh, well, I guess-“
“And your daughter’s middle name is Nina.”
Lori stuck her lip out and threw her eyes to the sky contemplating her next move. She could nearly see her husband shaking his head and telling her to ‘keep your nose out of it!”
As usual, she ignored him.
“Oh, screw it. Yeah, we were friends. Good friends. After you lost your memories, well, after that the whole war thing was really picking up and you were moved away from the estate and out to fight battles and all that. We didn’t see each other much after that.”
“Thank you for being straight with me.”
“You deserve it.”
Nina gazed at the activity across the estate grounds: Dogs walking patrol routes, a courier with a box under his arm bounding through the front door, and a Humvee with a mounted machine gun creeping along the sloped driveway.
She asked, “What was it like around here, back in those days?”
Lori considered for a moment and then said, “Well, there were less people, of course, but still a lot always going on. There’s always been a feeling of excitement around here. Well, except for those few months last year when this place was empty because Evan moved everything down to DC Anyway, since the beginning the mansion and the lake have always felt like the center of it all. Lots of energy but without the bull. You were a big part of that in the early days.” Her eyes wavered as she admitted, “But back then that energy felt, well, optimistic. Nowadays it feels-it feels desperate.”
Lori saw Nina hesitate, perhaps summoning courage, before asking, “How is-how is The Emperor doing these days?”
Lori felt another powerful blast of deja vu and quickly traced it to the conversations she had had with Nina during those first few months at the estate, a time when Lori had correctly guessed that Nina Forest was falling in love with Trevor Stone, even if she did not know it..
“Trevor? I’ll admit it he is a little different nowadays. I think he’s more…” and Lori chose her word carefully, “ lonely. That’s because of how things are going out on the front. And how things went, well, after he got back last summer.”
Those things, Lori knew, included rooting out the conspirators, public hangings, and a brutal purge of the political system. As far as she knew, a dozen bodies still hung from the rotunda in the now-closed Capital building in DC For a while, things had been brutal. She saw first-hand the dark side of Trevor Stone.
Lori focused again and added, “You did a job bringing him back.”
“Oh, well, I-look-I just did what I had to do. I suppose.”
Lori wondered exactly how Nina had brought Trevor back. His mind had been a mess of nightmares and grief. In one of his few confessional moments since his return, Trevor had hinted to Lori about a supernatural bond formed between himself and Nina, one that had taken much of the weight of guilt and sorrow from his spirit and given it to Nina, a willing gesture on her part to lift a measure of his burden.
That, Lori thought, is what people in love do for one another.
Whatever she had done, it relieved Trevor enough to pull him from the madness, although his anger and determination returned more powerful than ever.
She wondered, as she watched Nina fidget nervously, how much Nina knew. Or how much did she feel?
Lori said, “You should go say hello to him.”
Nina did not reply, but her eyes wandered in a sure sign of increasing nerves. At that moment Lori realized she would need to try some of her old tricks again.
“Hey, look, this conference tomorrow is important. I’ve got to make some decisions on equipment transfers and personnel. I’d like your input on all that.”
“Me? I’m not really good at that sort of thing. I’m just a soldier.”
“That’s the type of input I need. Someone who has been on the front lines. Besides, you were in on all the big meetings back in the old days. I’d like you to be there.”
Nina’s eyes widened and she gasped, “Me? In a meeting with the counsel? Listen, I don’t think I’m the right-“
“Nonsense,” Lori interrupted. “As the Chief Administrator I am requesting your presence. Tell Shep I suggested it and I’ll bet he’ll think it’s a good idea. Besides, there isn’t much of a council left. It’s sort of Trevor’s extended group of friends and advisers. You’re a part of that group, I think.”
“I–I don’t know what to say. Or, what to say at the meeting.”
“Just be there. At some point, I just know Trevor will want to talk to you.”
Trevor sat with Ashley in the soft glow of the living room fireplace. While one couch remained, much of the room had been transformed into makeshift workspace including a pair of desks against one wall, cabinets, and a long table under the front windows.
Still, with the lights down and the workers long-since departed, the room took on a cozy feel, especially with those desks, cabinets, and tables relegated to shadows.
The tears were the final stage, preceded by pleading and defiance. In the end, Trevor Stone saw that she realized he planned to take away the only thing in this miserable world that belonged to her. The only person Ashley loved who loved her back.
The time for argument passed, so did the time for protests; she lacked the energy to continue fighting.
Outside, the last rays of sunset faded like a dying fire. A vehicle motor revved as it traveled the driveway. The sound of scattered voices-handlers commanding K9s and sentries conversing-seeped through the front windows as muffled background noise.
“I’m sorry,” he said for what might have been the fiftieth time that evening, but this time the apology encompassed a greater wrong. “I’m sorry things turned out this way.”
“Me-me too,” she sobbed. “What happened? How come the old world seems like a faded dream? I don’t even know if it’s real any more. Was it real? Any of it?”
For the first time in a long while he slipped an arm around Ashley’s shoulder and pulled her close.
“It was real. But I know what you mean about it seeming a dream. Sometimes I have trouble remembering what my folks looked like. That bothers me.”
“Do you remember-you remember making the plans for the wedding? I thought it was important.”
He chuckled and told her, “I remember. And it was important. Back then. I guess our definition of ‘important’ has changed a bit.”
“I kept moving those seating charts around. It must’ve drove you nuts.”
“No, no,” he did not sound convincing. “I was right there with you.”
“Oh, you liar.” She actually flashed a brief smile.
“Say, you remember that time we went on a picnic up to Francis Slocum State Park?”
Ashley nodded. “How could I forget? That was Memorial Day.”
“Perfect day, it seemed. Then that storm rolled in and we didn’t even notice. Next thing you know-”
She picked up, “We were too busy staring into each other’s eyes,” she used the right mix of melodrama in her tone, “to notice that everyone else at the park went running for their cars. By time we did the rain was coming down in sheets. Oh, geez, that was horrible!”
“Nah, it was fun. Something to remember, right?”
“Well you know me, I had to have everything perfect. Best plans, you know?”
“I know.”
“I changed,” she admitted. “I’ve gotten used to the idea that things don’t go as planned.”
He sighed and, after a silence of several seconds, spoke to Ashley in a whisper, “I’m sorry, Ashley. I’m sorry we didn’t get that wedding. I’m sorry we didn’t get that house and the picket fence your dad would’ve built for half-price.”
She snickered at that and cuddled a little closer.
He went on, “I never asked for any of this. Never wanted it.”
“I know. I mean, when I really think about all that has happened I don’t really blame you. You’ve done the best you could. Better than my dad ever would have thought, right?”
This time he snickered.
“You too,” he told her honestly. “You were dealt a bad hand, Ashley, but you rose up. I don’t say this a lot. I don’t think I’ve ever said it. But Ashley, I’m proud of you. I admire you, too. You deserve better. I’m sorry I was never able to give that to you.”
She quietly told him, “And now you’re going to take away the only thing that matters to me.” But no argument remained in her voice; she merely spoke the truth.
Ashley gently pulled free of his hug, sat straight on the couch, and studied him for several long seconds. He returned her gaze and for a moment he saw beautiful Ashley Trump of a decade ago whom he had somehow convinced to fall in love with him. She had been his dream. In return, he had put her through a nightmare.
She spoke without any acid in her tone, but with strength.
“I know you wouldn’t do this unless you thought it would work. Whether it does work or doesn’t, either way the end is coming soon, isn’t it?”
He nodded.
Ashley told him, “I won’t be here when you get back. It doesn’t matter, not really. The TV cameras are pretty much gone. I don’t think appearances are important anymore. So you don’t need me by your side. It’s all in your hands now, Trevor. You, your Generals, and I guess our son, too. If he’s not here, there’s no reason for me to be.”
Trevor bowed his head and accepted her words.
Ashley finished, “Point is, there’s a life out there somewhere; my life. I need to find it, in what little time I have left.”