Canyons of Steel - Lawman in a Lawless Land Pt 5

Bullets flew across the room. Walker and Monty hunkered down behind a row of beaten up slot machines. Not that they weren't good before this little fire fight, in fact, they were being used quite a bit. Until the bullets started flying. The pair of Ex-Illuminati agents had busted into the speakeasy quickly, the intent was a warning for one cell of the Family mafia. Frankie Paddaluchi had told the two about this operation, after claiming to know of a good safe house they could use as a base of operations for themselves.

Do this for me, an' I'll hook you two up, capisce?

They never really expected this to be easy, but they also weren't expecting this kind of resistance. And then, they also weren't expecting the Capo to be a woman.

Fancy was her name, with mannerisms that would appear as unseeingly for someone to be associating with the hired gunsels of the Maximus Family. But she was as deadly as she was refined. "I always find it interesting when brutes such as yourselves attempt to rest from my hands the territory and materials that I have worked so very hard to acquire," she called out as she fired off a few rounds from her .38s. "Allow me to ask you gentlemen, what exactly do you believe that you were attempting to accomplish by an action such as this."

"Can I squeeze off a few rounds an' hope ta take her head off, mate," Monty said in a hoarse whisper. "Her bloody limey's the worst I've ever heard."

Walker would have laughed had the situation not been so dire. "Way I hear it, Ma'am, you been puttin' the squeeze on some honest folk 'round these parts. Somethin' like that just ain't right."

"My word, someone with a heart of gold," she called back with a laugh. "Such a thing as that is not commonly found in the Isles."

"Whyn't ya come here an' I'll show ya my heart o' gold while I'm puttin' a bullet through yer skull," Walker suggested, a touch of venom in his voice. He looked to Monty as he heard the shuffling of feet. The shooting had died down, and gunsels were moving into a better position. Walker and Monty wordlessly positioned themselves.

The guns started blazing again as gunsels tried dropping in on them, only finding ripping death as the guns held by the gunslingers took them out quickly and effortlessly.

"She in that bunch?" Walker asked in a loud voice, knowing the answer, using his words to taunt.

"No, mate," Monty replied, just as loud. "Dare say that's a lotta Armani that just got wasted, though. Bloody shame, ya ask me."

"Nah, it ain't no shame. I'd rather go fer a good pair o' Wranglers any day."

Fancy shook her head as she listened to the words coming from the pair. "Dreadful, truly dreadful that such as yourselves would even consider yourself at such a station as we are."

"Hell, Shiela. Ya boys're dead, an' we're still breathin'. I would gather that we're doin' alright. Whaddya say, mate?"

"Hell, boy," Walker replied with a chuckle. "I wager I'm gonna haveta agree with ya." Walker's voice had a smile in it, knowing right away, even before asking, what Fancy's answer to his upcoming proposition would be. "Darlin', tell ya what. Whyn't ya make this easy on yerself. Just call it off, agree ta Heck's terms an' we'll stop shootin'."

Fancy laughed aloud as though she were on stage. The mere thought of such a suggestion was, in truth, laughable. "And where, pray tell, would the profit be for such a venture as that?"

"Well," Walker replied with a smile. "Fer one, we'd stop usin' so many bullets. I think Monty here missed a coupla times."

"I bloody did not, mate," he remarked with a voice that sounded angry, but he couldn't help but smile as he spoke. He knew what Walker was doing. Wearing down the opponent with verbal jabs, and keeping them off guard. "Not like you hit one hundred percent..."

"Oh for!" Fancy finally cried out in dramatic voice and posture. "I give you... gentlemen the same offer you gave me. Give up, and I'll allow you to crawl back to Heck, and receive whatever punish..."

Her words were cut off as she stared at the serrated blade that now protruded from her chest. She marveled at it for a while as she watched the blood begin to drip from the wound. And then she felt the arm wrap around her throat, and her body thrust backward, held fast by a muscular, yet lithe individual.

"Let me guess, Miss Fancy," Marianne Wollcott whispered in Fancy's ear. "A little girl from Oregon wished to be British, and far higher than her station. So, she joined with Don Maximus, first as a whore, and then worked close to the Don and secured herself some property. All the while pretending to be, oh so Shakespearean. How borish. Bloody colonial." Marianne pulled the serrated blade back, ripping new wounds into the woman's flesh. Fancy fell to the floor, tears streaming down her eyes.

"I could... I could have had everything..."

"No," Marianne replied with a whisper, knowing full well that the life had ebbed from Fancy. "No you couldn't. Because this was always your fate." She surveyed the room as the gunsels looked to her. One held up his gun and Marianne replied by pointing her blade in his direction. "If any of you fools knew who you were dealing with, then all of you berks would have run scared well before this fight ever started. Your so called boss was an ignorant bitch. She deserved what she got."

"Is she bloody dead?" Monty called out as he peeked over a crate. "Shite! Walker..." The gunslinger sat up, and peeked over the crate. What he saw was an amazing sight. The gunsels tossed down their weapons as they warily watched the woman who had just killed Fancy.

"Son of a bitch," Walker whispered.

"Aren't the Sisters sticking close to the Web?" Monty asked in a hoarse whisper.

"She ain't a Knife," Walker said with a smile as he pointed toward the woman. "The patches. They been ripped off. She cut an' run, just like us."

Marianne stood her ground as the gunslingers crawled out from their bunker, weapons trained on her. "This is not exactly the reception I had hoped for," she said with a scowl.

"Then respect the fact that it ain't usual procedure fer a member, whether ties 'r cut 'r not, o' the Sisters come save us poor ass the Illuminati."

"Ex-Illuminati, if I remember correctly," Marianna replied.

"Bloody hell," Monty said as he lowered his gun and looked to Walker. "She's good."

Walker nodded to the woman as he lowered his rifle. The frays on the patches weren't new. They'd been ripped off a while ago. "What's yer name, darlin'?"

"Marianne Wollcott," she said quickly. "And if I might say, Operative Violet Rose, your reputation proceeds you. Your exploits are known amongst the members of the Sisters."

"Why you quit?" he asked as he pointed to the torn patches.

Marianne looked down to her shoulder and then back to Walker. "Do you know of Stewart Industries?"

"'Course I do," Walker said with a scoff. "One o' the biggest biogenetic an' pharmaceutical companies in the western hemisphere. Have ta be an idiot not ta know. Why?"

"My sister, Maxine Wollcott, was the personal secretary for the CEO, Derrik Stewart," Marianne explained, a cold look in her eyes. "A sect of the Sisters killed her when Mandrake attempted a very hostile take over of the company. Mandrake failed, and my sister paid the ultimate price. I left the Sisters as soon as I learned what happened."

Walker nodded as Marianne gave her reasons. He studied her for a long while, sensing there was no disception at work. "Ya realize what me an' Monty 're doin'?"

"Law in a lawless land?"

He smirked as he heard the answer. "Well, I guess ya do. Ya ain't gettin' no feelin's o' takin' that pig sticker ta me 'r Monty, an' darlin', we'll get 'long just fine." He looked back to Monty and smiled. "Three o' us is better 'n two. What say we go back ta Heck an' see what he's got fer us in the form o' property ta set up our shingle."

Monty nodded and flashed a smile to Marianne. She merely responded with a nod, not falling for the perceived charm from the Aussie. But at least now, she had allies. And ones she had known of from her former life. Things in the William were about to get more interesting.

Canyons of Steel - Lawman in a Lawless Land Pt 4

The limp form of the monstrosity slipped into the sludge quietly. A woman pulled out the serrated blade with ease and moved back into the shadows. The frayed edges where the arm patches were still bore some of the insignia of the organization she called home. The Sisters of the Blade. Long ago, after hearing of the death of her sister at the hands of one sect of the Sisters, she decided to leave. The group was no longer a family of hers. They had struck out and killed one of her own. And now it was time for revenge.

A comm on her belt chirped a low sound. She narrowed her eyes as she studied the readout. Blast! she cursed under her breath in a near perfectly enunciated British accent. She hit the receive button as she crept deeper into the shadows. "This had better be important, Eleanor."

"Marianne," the voice on the comm spouted excitedly. "Do you realize how long I've been trying to find you?"

"I really wish you hadn't, Eleanor," Marianne replied with a hint of disdain. "I love you dearly, but you shouldn't try and contact me." She checked her position, taking note of the Mafia gunsels and local government soldiers that patrolled near what was called the Web.

"Marianne, I noted some movement in the Isles," she said, trying to get her sister to listen. "There's someone there who can help you. Someone you can trust."

"I take it you found all of this via the company you work for," Marianne remarked, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "How is it, being the personal secretary of Derrik Stewart?"

"Marianne," Eleanor replied with a shocked tone. "Enough. Will you take this information?"

The blade mistress paused for what seemed forever before answering. Having allies in this wretched place would be worth it. And she knew that Eleanor had connections, even more so now that she worked with Stewart Industries. "Who is it, Eleanor?"

"Ex-Illuminati. Codenamed Operative Violet Rose. And his second in command, Omega Six. Both are situated..."

"I know where they are," Marianne said as she typed on the keys of her lap top. While her sister was talking, Marianne connected to the central hub of the web, tapping into the security cameras that dotted the islands. "Port William. I just watched them take out a group of Don Maximus' men."

"How did you..."

"You have your connections, dear sister," Marianne came back with a smirk. "And I have mine." Without another word, she clicked off the comm and gathered her things. It was time to head toward Port William. She knew who John Walker was. She'd undertaken a pair of missions with him during her time with the Sisters. He was good, and he knew the value of honour.

And that was something sorely needed in this lawless land.

to be continued...

Canyons of Steel - Lawman in a Lawless Land Pt 3

Johnathon Tiberius Walker stepped off the unmarked Blackhawk helicopter, stepping lightly on the cobble stones that made up the streets of the town. Port William. One of two communities on an island chain at the tip of Bermuda. The other, Cinco Muerta. He looked back to the Blackhawk and waited for it to lift off before moving. It sat for several more minutes, giving Walker a moment to pause. Why would they just sit there and wait? It made no sense.

And then the answer came.

A tall, dark haired man stepped off the transport. Walker knew who it was, he'd been the gunslinger's second in command in the the Illuminati unit they ran. Walker gritted his teeth and shook his head. "Omega Six, what the hell 're you doin'?"

"I'm with you, mate," Omega Six replied in his thick Australian accent. "The way I see it, if I stick it out I'm as good as dead. Especially if I ever have to face off against you. With you, I've got a better chance." He paused for a moment as he studied Walker's reaction. "Besides. You could use my help."

John Walker shook his head and wordlessly waved the Aussie gunslinger over. They both watched as the chopper lifted into the air, and out of sight. "That may have been the dumbest thing you ever done, Monty," Walker said quietly.

"Explain to me how joinin' the Illuminati was smart?"

A chuckle escaped Walker's lips and he shook his head. "C'mon, Monty. We gotta find digs ta settle down in. May as well start huntin'." Monty grabbed his gear and followed the old gunhand. They were fresh and green on this island compared to some, but they had tactical smarts, and that alone would be their saving grace.

to be continued...

Canyons of Steel - Lawman in a Lawless Land Pt 2

"We lost the signal, ma'am," a communications officer reported quickly.

Christa Rayne, a.k.a. Red Surge, high ranking officer within the RCMP and on loan to Interpol, slammed her fist onto the console in front of her. "Dammit, Johnny! Damn you!"

"Orders, ma'am?"

Christa looked to her tactical officer and glared. If Violet Rose escaped now, it could be months, years before they could pick up the trail again. "Get to work. Now! I want him found. If we can bring him in, then there's a damn good chance we can bring the Illuminati to it's knees."

*****

John Walker gently lay the woman's body onto the ground. She wasn't dead, but merely knocked out. A much more merciful thing to have happen than what the Sisterhood would have done to him. But he needed to be here, he needed to see her. Sister Jade, a woman that for some unknown reason, he felt drawn to. So much so, that together they had a child. And because of that child, he realized that what he did, was no longer an option.

Maybe it was his age, maybe it was the child, he didn't know what it was, but he couldn't do it anymore. He snaked his way through the base, bypassing security and stealthing past the Sisters that were on patrol. He had to get to her room.

And then he felt it. He cursed himself as the blade rested on his neck. Slowly, he rose to his feet, hands held up to show he had no weapon drawn. "Do yer worst," he said in a gruff voice.

"You are very fortunate that I was the one who found you," the woman said as John felt the blade leave his neck. "Anyone else would have killed you where you were." John Walker turned slowly, and took a deep breath. Sister Jade stood before him.

"You could come with me," he said to her. "Gather up Danielle's things an' come with me."

"You know I can't," she replied in a voice that bordered on pleading. "If I were to leave, you know that both the Sisters and Illuminati would search the world over for us."

John took a step closer to her, feeling the tip of the blade touch his chest. He didn't look down as he effortlessly pushed it to the side. But then, Jade wasn't about to use it on him. "Jade, I don't know what it was, but somethin' came alive in my heart. For years, I'd only known one thing. An' that was what I did for the Iluminati. An' I was damned good at it. But when I met you... my world suddenly changed." He held up a hand as Jade began to speak, stopping her. "Don't say anythin', darlin'. Don't. I thought I'd come here, convince you ta come with me. You an' Danny. But I can tell how you feel just by lookin' in yer eyes. Alright, I'll leave. But I will wait fer you, Jade. If I have ta wait ta be on my death bed fer you ta come ta me, then so be it. But if all I have is those final few moments with you, then I know it were worth it."

Jade sighed deeply. She'd trained hard with the Sisters, worked to obtain her station with the Knives, and was a well respected member. But this man had done something to her. He had filled something in her that she desperately wanted, but knew she couldn't have. "You know what the penalty is."

"I do," he said with a firm nod. "An' I ain't 'bout ta risk yer life b'cause o' me. When yer ready, come lookin' fer me. I'll leave a trail only you can follow, darlin'. When yer ready, I'll be there." He took one last look into her eyes, then took a deep breath and moved past her. It was the most difficult thing he'd ever have to do.

to be continued...

Canyons of Steel - Lawman in a Lawless Land Pt 1

The computer screens flickered back and forth with information vital to the existance of the Illuminati. And Operative Violet Rose watched everything carefully. Every so often there seemed to be what appeared as a small glitch in the system. Violet Rose smirked slightly as he recognized it right away. He tapped a few keys on the keyboard and lifted the mask over his features. The middle view screen came to life, and the features of an attractive red head began to come into focus.

“Well, well,” Violent Rose drawled as he sat back in the chair. “Look what we have here.”
The woman on the view screen shook her head and sighed deeply. “What makes you think I was on the look out for you, Rose,” she replied in an even toned voice. “Or maybe I should start calling you by your real name, John. Seems only fair, as you managed to deduce mine about two months back.”

Rose, or John as was his name, laughed aloud. “Now, I guess I shoulda figgered you’d pick up on that soon ‘nough. You bein’ the only one smart ‘nough ta figger it out. Shoulda known it’d come ta that, Miss Rayne.” He paused and studied the view screen for a moment. “Or maybe, seein’ how we’ve upgraded ourselves ta a first name basis, would it be too forward o’ me ta call ya Christa.”

“I don’t see any reason why not, John Walker,” she replied, finally letting a smile show on her face, softening her voice somewhat. “I have to admit, the chase has been entertaining, but I’m just one step behind you now, John. It won’t be long.”

John Walker’s tone became very serious, the smile seemed to fade just slightly. “I hate ta disappoint ya, Christa. I really do. But maybe I seen the light. What we had b’tween us, this game o’ cat an’ mouse, been fun an’ all, but I realized somethin’. It ain’t gonna last ferever, an’ somebody’s gonna get killed b’cause o’ it. Now maybe I started ta grow a soft spot fer ya, ain’t too sure, but I do know this. A man b’comes dangerous when he starts spoutin’ that he’s got God on his side. A man also b’comes dangerous when he’s weilding a gun. He b’come down right fanatical when he’s got both.” John sighed and pulled down the mask as he reached for a pack of cigarettes. “That’s sorta what’s happenin’ with this branch o’ the organization, an’ while I may be a God fearin’ man, I ain’t ‘bout ta start sayin’ it were God tol’ me ta do the things I set out ta do.”

“What are you up to’, John? What are you scheming” Christa’s tone had become very even, and even more serious than usual. She knew John Walker well enough that he was capable of calling on an air strike from any military in the world. His connections and his ability to subvert had become that great. “Because if it means the taking of lives...”

“No Miss Rayne. No worries there.” He lit the cigarette and reached for a bottle of JD. “I’m out. I’ve had ‘nough.”

“Come to me, Walker. We can cut you a deal, get you relocated....” Her voice held some desperation to it, as she knew if she could not get John Walker to agree, then she’d spend the next few years, and limitless Interpol resources trying to find him.

“Hell, no,” he said cutting her off quickly. “I done too much ta too many. I know when I die, I’m gonna burn in hell. But let it come ta that when I die. In this life, I gotta make amends in my own way. The only way I can.” He took a pull off the cigarette and exhaled deeply. “Wish I could tell ya more, Christa, really wish I could. Be nice ta have a fine filly like you with me, but I can’t risk it. I’m sorry.” He tapped a few more keys on the keyboard and suddenly the connection was gone.

John Walker, formerly Operative Violet Rose, rose from the chair and gathered up what few belongings he intended to take. A pair of Colt .45s, a Derringer, and an assault rifle. The rest, would go up in flames. He removed his jacket and tossed it onto the chair, then looked back to the computer console. “I need ta see someone I care ‘bout, Christa. An’ then I need ta disappear, so I can take care o’ her.”

to be continued...

Loonie Toons Lolcat

Love this picture. As seen on Icanhascheezburger.com.


moar funny pictures

Canyons of Steel - Johnny Come Lately

It's been a while, yes, since I've posted anything at all. I've been a bit busy, but felt as this is Veteran's Week (November 5th to November 11th) I would put up a post from a story I wrote about a grizzled old gunslinger I created. This story, I dedicate to all the men and women who have made sacrifices during times of war.

Canyons of Steel
Johnny Come Lately

I'm an American, boys, and I've come a long way
I was born and bred in the USA
So listen up close, I've get something to say
Boys, I'm buying this round
Well it took a little while but we're in this fight
And we ain't going home 'til we've done what's right
We're gonna drink Camden Town dry tonight
If I have to spend my last pound
When I first got to London it was pourin' down rain
Met a little girl in the field canteen
Painted her name on the nose of my plane
Six more missions I'm gone
Well I asked if I could stay and she said that I might
Then the warden came around yelling "turn out the lights"
Death rainin' out of the London night We made love 'til dawn

London, England, 1944

She pulled her coat closer around herself as she walked down the street as the cold wind picked up. Olivia Gallant muttered to herself as she moved through the cobble stone streets toward the medical station. Her journey would often take her past one of several stations that housed either American or Canadian troops, most fly boys, too cocky for their own good. More than once she had to cross the street to avoid some leers and wolf whistles. And this night was no exception.

"Hey, cold wind t'night, you tink." A Canadian airmen, obviously from Quebec with his thick Quebecois accent betraying him. It wasn't Parisian, of that she was certain. It sounded too, what was the term she'd heard her friend say once. Ah yes. Hillbilly. A strange American term if anything.

"I'm fine, really," she replied in her crisp English. "If you'll excuse me..."

"Ah, Miss. Just wanna give ya an escort." An American airman, and from the sounds, quite drunk. When they weren't flying missions, they spent most of their time drinking. There wasn't much else they could do, really.

"That's 'nough, boys," a gruff voice called out. It was the kindness in the voice that caused Olivia to stop. The man who approached her did not make her draw back, but for some reason, there was a feeling of complete safety with him. "Hit the sack. Some o' you got missions ta fly soon. An' Pierre, I figger Halladay's gonna have yer hide, what bein' 'way from the Canuck barracks." The Quebecois made a rather rude gesture once the man's back was turned, but walked away nonetheless. "Ma'am. Sorry 'bout the ruckus."

"It's quite alright, really. None of them actually do anything." She couldn't help but stare in amazement at this man. The smart airman's uniform, complimented with a stetson. "I was hurrying to attend my duties at the aid station."

"Well now, ma'am," he replied as he tipped the hat slightly. "Would ya mind an escort?"

She gave a nervous laugh and her hand clutched the scarf she wore to keep her neck warm. "Really, I'm alright. I don't even know your name."

"Major Caleb Walker, Ma'am," he said in his lazy drawl. "Eighth Air Force. Me an' the boys 're takin' a rest b'fore the big one. Hope none 're botherin' ya 'tall."

Olivia shook her head and smiled. She felt safe with Caleb for some strange reason. "I suppose an escort wouldn't be too troubling. The streets are rather empty and cold."

"Always nice ta have some comp'ny, ma'am," Caleb remarked as he offered her his arm. Olivia gently placed her hand at his elbow and the pair began walking together. "You from 'round here, ma'am? Ya don't mind my sayin', but I ain't heard anyone like ya in these parts b'fore." He meant no slight, it was his polite way of commenting on her accent.

"I moved here three years ago." She chuckled nervously for a moment as she corrected herself. "Well, I should say I was transfered here. I worked at an aid station in Swansea, Wales, where I grew up." She smiled and looked up to the tall man beside her.

"Beautiful country in Wales," Caleb replied. "I managed a stay with the rest o' my men when we first come here two years ago. Been flyin' missions ever since."

"And where are you from, Mr. Walker. I have to admit, most Americans I have meet are from Boston and New York."

Caleb chuckled a bit. "I grew up in what my daddy always called God's Country. Texas panhandle. Amarillo, ta be precise." The thought of a real Texas somewhat thrilled Olivia. She'd heard about men of the plains, but had never met one before, and at this moment, she was excited. Her lonely walk had turned into an adventure, albeit, a very calm one.

"I've never been away from the British Isles," she replied with a smile. "And I've only seen pictures of much of the Americas."

"You should come out that way some time," Caleb replied with a nod. "If ya came out in fall, then ya see some o' the most picturesque sunsets."

The pair walked together for a few more blocks, talking, sharing their experiences since the beginning of the war, and laughing together. Olivia looked up as she saw the sign denoting the aid station. Her heart sank just a bit as she didn't wish for the walk to end. They both stopped and Olivia turned to face Caleb. "I must thank you for your escort, and the conversation. It's a lonely walk sometimes, and having someone to talk to is wonderful."

"My pleasure, Ma'am," Caleb said as he tipped his hat. "Any time you need an escort, just come ta the barracks. I'll let the boys know, an' they won't do nothin' ta disrespect ya."

"I appreciate that, Mr. Walker."

"Please, Ma'am. Call me Caleb."

She smiled as she quietly voiced the name to herself. A very different name than she'd heard before. "On one condition, Caleb. If you would, call me Olivia."

Caleb smiled and his eyes seemed to sparkle. "I think I can do that, Olivia. You take care, now. Hope yer shift goes without any problems." He tipped his hat again and walked back toward his barracks, leaving Olivia to watch after him, smiling as she tried the name again for size.

"Olivia," a woman called from the doorstep. "Love, ye gonna catch ye cold out there." Alice McGuinty, considered to be the den mother of the nurses at this station. Alice gazed off in the direction Olivia was looking and smiled. "Ye get yeself a bit o' an escort t'night?"

"Yes," Olivia said with a shy smile. "It helped keep the cold away."

Alice laughed out loud and shook her head. She knew that many of the American flyboys would often sweep the local girls off their feet, and it seemed as though it had happened with a chance meeting tongiht. "Well, get yeself inside. Dunna need ye catchin' yer death from the cold." Olivia climbed the stairs to the aid station, the smile never leaving her face. Her duties would be completed with cheer, but the hours which she would see Caleb again would be long.

But when Johnny Come Lately comes marching home
With a chest full of medals and a G.l. loan
They'll be waitin' at the station down in San Antone
When Johnny comes marching home

Olivia stood outside of the barracks and watched the men come and go through the chain link fence. She actually had some time off and decided to use it tending to some chores and a bit of relaxation. Tensions weren't nearly as high as they had been in the past. There was a rumour that the end of the war was in sight. Four days before, the air field was a buzz of activity as planes took off on a massive mission. Nothing had been leaked but everyone had their own theory.

But Olivia knew. Caleb told her that they were about to move out, there were orders coming and he wouldn't be around for a few days. They'd spent the night together before he had to join his airmates. It was only four days. She had so much that she needed to take care of during that time to take her mind off Caleb, but she always drifted back to him. The warmth in his voice, the touch of his hand, the sparkle in his eye. She hadn't thought that she could be swept so easily off her feet, but she had. Caleb Walker had been the man she had been looking for, without even knowing that she was looking at all.

Olivia bit her lip in nervous anticipation, watching as pilots began filtering into the buildings. The mission was complete, and from all appearances, they were victorious. But she didn't care of the outcome of any battle. Olivia only looked for one man.

Alone, and haggard looking, one lone pilot walked the tarmac to the bunkhouses. Carrying his gear under his arm, he wiped his brow and seemed to take a deep breath, one that he could have been holding from the shores of Italy until he landed on English soil. Caleb Walker looked up as though something inside him told him to. He smiled as he saw Olivia, and began walking toward her.

Olivia laughed a nervous laugh that allowed her worry to shed quickly. She wanted to burst through the fence, not waiting for the airman that opened it to finish. She wanted to burst through and run to Caleb, but she composed herself as best she could. Still, her excitement pushed her to rush toward Caleb. Throwing her arms around his shoulders, she sobbed into his chest, not tears of sorrow, but tears of absolute joy.

Caleb smiled, dropping his equipment to the ground as he placed comforting arms about her. "Olivia," he said softly. "Darlin', ain't no cause ta weep like this."

"I thought I'd never see you again," she sobbed as she held tight to him. "I didn't realize that the time we'd spent together..." She let her voice trail off as she looked up into his eyes.

"Darlin'," he said softly as he smiled his comforting smile. "I ain't goin' nowhere. God didn't want me, b'cause he knew there were an angel here on Earth I needed ta come back ta. Up in the skies, I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout ya. I knew I had ta come back ta ya, darlin'. An' there weren't nuthin' them Jerries could do ta keep me 'way."

They stood in silence for what seemed forever. In that moment, Olivia knew she had been truly blessed. With Caleb Walker by her side, there was no reason to fear and no reason to cry.

MY P-47 is a pretty good ship
And she took a round coming cross the Channel last trip
I was thinking 'bout my baby and letting her rip
Always got me through so far
Well they can ship me all over this great big world
But I'll never find nothing like my North End girl
I'm taking her home whh me one day, sir
Soon as we win this war

1955, San Antonio, Texas.

Olivia held the small child in her arms as her oldest son stood beside her. Neither boy could understand what the scene was about. Neither child knew why the tears ran down her cheeks. A soldier dressed in his military best presented her with the flag that drapped the coffin. And the tears flowed even faster. The soldier lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, and whispered words of encouragement to her, words that told her that her husband had died completing his duty. She had only pride to keep herself standing tall.

But even though the words held some strength for her, she still felt a great loss. This man she had met only a decade before was now taken from her.

She would strengthen herself, however, as she looked to the two boys. Caleb's boys. Christopher Malcom Walker and Johnathon Tiberius Walker. She would teach them about their father and let them know the kind of man he was.

And perhaps, they too would grow to be their father's sons.

Now my granddaddy sang me this song
Told me about London when the Blitz was on
How he married Grandma and brought her back home
A hero throughout his land
Now I'm standing on a runway in San Diego
A couple Purple Hearts and I move a little slow
There's nobody here, maybe nobody knows
About a place called Vietnam

Washington DC, National Vietnam Memorial, present day

John Walker stared at one row of names intently as he stood solitary before the wall. He'd served with most, made friends with a few. It was almost forty years ago, but he remembered. He'd lied about his age when he enlisted, at the age of sixteen. His first tour was on his seventeenth birthday. His mother never knew until he had returned, believing that he'd gone to look for work. She was angry, but the angry turned to relief that he was alright.

As the sun shone brightly down from above, John Walker said a silent prayer. Only the foot falls behind him made any noise that someone had arrived. Nothing was said, whoever it was kept quiet, respectfully allowing John to finish. And as he placed his hat back on, Marianne Wollcott finally spoke.

"I apologize for the interruption, Sir."

John turned to face her, a small smile on his lips. "It's alright, Mary. Ya ain't interruptin' none 'tall." He looked back to the wall and sighed before turning to face Marianne. "Been comin' out here on this date every year now since they built this. Only seem right."

"Vietnam?" Marianne asked quietly.

John nodded his response, the memories coming back to him of the hell on earth he'd survived. "One tour o' duty. Commandin' officer tol' me ta go home after he found out how old I was." He chuckled slightly as his commanding officer's words came back to him, crystal clear. "Truth is, I don't blame 'im. I'd o' done the same thing in his situation." He studied Marianne for a moment, for the first time since she'd joined him noticing her smart military uniform, a good pairing with the one John wore. "You served back in Britain, didn't ya?"

Marianne smiled with a small nod. "I never saw any action. Never was sent overseas. I was still a cadet when the Persian Gulf War began. They sent me to Haiti to assist with efforts there. But outside of that..." She merely shook her head. "I can't imagine the things you've experienced, Sir. I don't know what any of it was like."

"I pray ya never do, Mary," John replied softly. "Ta be shoved inta a war like that," he stated as he motioned toward the wall of names. "Ain't nobody should see that. Ever."

"With everything I've heard that happened to men that served in Vietnam," Marianne commented. "I find that you have a strength above that."

John took a deep breath as he carefully thought his answer. "I live with the horror o' that war, ta this very day. Like I said, no one should ever have ta go through that. Ever. On that same note, I'm glad there's men an' women that have the courage ta stand up. If we didn't, we might as well roll over an' die."

Marianne studied John Walker closely for a moment. He seemed at his most vulnerable at this very moment. The strength he usually displayed was only a glint compared to the pain and sorrow that he felt being here. But there was one thing she knew. Through the horrors of all the wars fought during the last century, if it wasn't for men like John Walker, then they may as well have just rolled over and died. "In Britain we don't honour our soldiers until November. But there is a saying, said throughout the Commonwealth. Perhaps it is also appropriate for this time as well."

John looked to Marianne for a moment before answering. "What would that be?"

"Lest we forget."

With three simple words, Marianne Wollcott gave John Walker a stiff salute. The tired and worn body of Walker's seemed to slouch just a bit. The words fit, and with them, gave him some strength to continue on. He returned the salute in kind, unable to find the words he wished to convey to Marianne. None needed be said.

lyrics from Johnny Come Lately as performed by Steve Earl