BOOM! The explosion ripped the three-man team off the ground and tossed them into the air. Eric slammed face first in the sand. He pushed up on his
knees, pressed the detached flap of flesh back down on his forehead, wiped the blood from his eye, and fought the pain hammering inside his skull. He
turned toward his friend, but Mac was gone, only a hole remained where he had been seconds before. He saw Duke lying in the sand ...
The sound of the vehicle pulling into the driveway brought him out of the dream and back to the kitchen in his small house. Eric stood up from the table,
walked over to the window above the sink, and stared at the two figures in the black car. The glow from the streetlight was insufficient to see their faces,
but he knew, there in the passenger seat, it was her. The head of the passenger disappeared below the edge of the car window. When the head of the driver
leaned back, Eric gripped the sides of his coffee mug. He watched for a moment to confirm his suspicions, and then he closed his eyes and lowered his
head. He fought the impulse to end it all, to rush outside and set things straight.
Perhaps she’s right. Maybe if I had been here, things would have turned out different.
He took a deep breath, started to glance out the window one last time, but instead returned to his seat at the table, and waited.
Eric tapped his knuckles on the table as he sat alone in the dark. His eyes bored into the kitchen door until he heard the key turn in the lock. He listened to
the door close and the light footsteps as they echoed through the small two-story house and advanced on his position. When the entry to the kitchen opened,
the woman flipped the light switch and was startled.
“Damn, you scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know you were home from your trip. Where’s your car?”
“In the garage.”
“Why are you sitting in the dark?”
Eric surveyed his wife’s attire: the three-inch heels, the opal earrings he gave her on their first anniversary, and the strapless black dress. The same outfit
she used to wear only when they went out, the one that made him proud she was his and no one else’s.
“It’s a bit late to be coming in, isn’t it? Where have you been?”
Karen paused for moment, tossed her keys on the counter, and responded without looking at her husband. “I was out with friends.”
“Do I know these friends?”
“No.”
“It’s really getting old, to come home to an empty house every night, and find out you’ve been with your…friends.”
“Then stop traveling everywhere for that damn job. Besides, why the hell should you care what I do when you’re gone? I’m aware you’re not alone on
those trips. I know you take one of your sluts with you, like that red headed major.”
Eric stood up. He scanned the hard expression on his wife’s beautiful face, the glistening black hair he longed to stroke. He glanced at the tight lips that once
smiled whenever he was near, the soft lips he needed to touch, to taste. “No matter how many times you accuse me of infidelity, it doesn’t make it true. I
swear I have not been with any other women during our entire marriage. Can you say the same for yourself?”
With an expression barren of emotion, Karen ignored the comment and turned toward the doorway to leave, but not without making one final cutting
remark. “I don’t believe you. You haven’t been with me for a long time, so you must be screwing someone else. As always, this conversation has given me
a headache. Don’t wake me when you come to bed, or when you go jogging in the morning.”
Eric remained alone in the kitchen with only the light beneath the doorsill stretching across the floor. While he stared past the door into the next room, he
whispered to the only woman in his life, “Where did it go, Karen? You loved me once. Is it so easy to forget what we used to have, together? I still
remember. I’ve tried hard not to let it go, but it becomes more difficult each day.”
Eric listened to the clock on his nightstand, and resisted the need for sleep. He knew it waited in the shadows of his nightmare. After two hours, he lost the
battle. While he slept, the vision that hounded his dreams for so long returned: the fawn grazed toward the edge of the woodland, unaware of what lurked
just inside the trees. In an instant, the beast lunged onto his prey. While it consumed her innocence, Eric was helpless. Chained to an oak tree, he was forced
to observe while the demon mocked him. He could only watch from the hill as he lost her forever to that ruthless bastard. He ripped at the chains as they cut
deep into his skin. He struggled against the bonds until the shackles that had imprisoned him all these years were covered with his blood. He ignored the
gnawing pain, pushed against the tree with his feet, until the steel tore deep into his flesh and exposed the bone, but the chains remained, stopped him from
saving her. Eric looked away and closed his eyes, but the tears continued to pour down his cheeks. The beast grunted with pleasure as it wrested the life
from her small slender body. Eric screamed in agony, but no one was there on the lonely hill to listen. While he watched her die alone, he wept.
Eric sat up in his bed. The nightmare left him soaked in sweat. He gazed at his wife lying next to him, and started to reach for her. He needed to feel her soft
skin, touch the taut ridge that flowed down her back. He yearned to be absolved of his guilt, or to achieve some semblance of comfort, but he pulled back,
afraid of being rejected, again.
He felt alone, as always, all alone. He got up, walked into the spare bedroom, and curled up on the bed. Eric lay motionless, staring out the window at the
stars in the night sky, until the tremors from the nightmare disappeared. After thirty minutes he fell asleep again, by himself, in the dark room.
knees, pressed the detached flap of flesh back down on his forehead, wiped the blood from his eye, and fought the pain hammering inside his skull. He
turned toward his friend, but Mac was gone, only a hole remained where he had been seconds before. He saw Duke lying in the sand ...
The sound of the vehicle pulling into the driveway brought him out of the dream and back to the kitchen in his small house. Eric stood up from the table,
walked over to the window above the sink, and stared at the two figures in the black car. The glow from the streetlight was insufficient to see their faces,
but he knew, there in the passenger seat, it was her. The head of the passenger disappeared below the edge of the car window. When the head of the driver
leaned back, Eric gripped the sides of his coffee mug. He watched for a moment to confirm his suspicions, and then he closed his eyes and lowered his
head. He fought the impulse to end it all, to rush outside and set things straight.
Perhaps she’s right. Maybe if I had been here, things would have turned out different.
He took a deep breath, started to glance out the window one last time, but instead returned to his seat at the table, and waited.
Eric tapped his knuckles on the table as he sat alone in the dark. His eyes bored into the kitchen door until he heard the key turn in the lock. He listened to
the door close and the light footsteps as they echoed through the small two-story house and advanced on his position. When the entry to the kitchen opened,
the woman flipped the light switch and was startled.
“Damn, you scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know you were home from your trip. Where’s your car?”
“In the garage.”
“Why are you sitting in the dark?”
Eric surveyed his wife’s attire: the three-inch heels, the opal earrings he gave her on their first anniversary, and the strapless black dress. The same outfit
she used to wear only when they went out, the one that made him proud she was his and no one else’s.
“It’s a bit late to be coming in, isn’t it? Where have you been?”
Karen paused for moment, tossed her keys on the counter, and responded without looking at her husband. “I was out with friends.”
“Do I know these friends?”
“No.”
“It’s really getting old, to come home to an empty house every night, and find out you’ve been with your…friends.”
“Then stop traveling everywhere for that damn job. Besides, why the hell should you care what I do when you’re gone? I’m aware you’re not alone on
those trips. I know you take one of your sluts with you, like that red headed major.”
Eric stood up. He scanned the hard expression on his wife’s beautiful face, the glistening black hair he longed to stroke. He glanced at the tight lips that once
smiled whenever he was near, the soft lips he needed to touch, to taste. “No matter how many times you accuse me of infidelity, it doesn’t make it true. I
swear I have not been with any other women during our entire marriage. Can you say the same for yourself?”
With an expression barren of emotion, Karen ignored the comment and turned toward the doorway to leave, but not without making one final cutting
remark. “I don’t believe you. You haven’t been with me for a long time, so you must be screwing someone else. As always, this conversation has given me
a headache. Don’t wake me when you come to bed, or when you go jogging in the morning.”
Eric remained alone in the kitchen with only the light beneath the doorsill stretching across the floor. While he stared past the door into the next room, he
whispered to the only woman in his life, “Where did it go, Karen? You loved me once. Is it so easy to forget what we used to have, together? I still
remember. I’ve tried hard not to let it go, but it becomes more difficult each day.”
Eric listened to the clock on his nightstand, and resisted the need for sleep. He knew it waited in the shadows of his nightmare. After two hours, he lost the
battle. While he slept, the vision that hounded his dreams for so long returned: the fawn grazed toward the edge of the woodland, unaware of what lurked
just inside the trees. In an instant, the beast lunged onto his prey. While it consumed her innocence, Eric was helpless. Chained to an oak tree, he was forced
to observe while the demon mocked him. He could only watch from the hill as he lost her forever to that ruthless bastard. He ripped at the chains as they cut
deep into his skin. He struggled against the bonds until the shackles that had imprisoned him all these years were covered with his blood. He ignored the
gnawing pain, pushed against the tree with his feet, until the steel tore deep into his flesh and exposed the bone, but the chains remained, stopped him from
saving her. Eric looked away and closed his eyes, but the tears continued to pour down his cheeks. The beast grunted with pleasure as it wrested the life
from her small slender body. Eric screamed in agony, but no one was there on the lonely hill to listen. While he watched her die alone, he wept.
Eric sat up in his bed. The nightmare left him soaked in sweat. He gazed at his wife lying next to him, and started to reach for her. He needed to feel her soft
skin, touch the taut ridge that flowed down her back. He yearned to be absolved of his guilt, or to achieve some semblance of comfort, but he pulled back,
afraid of being rejected, again.
He felt alone, as always, all alone. He got up, walked into the spare bedroom, and curled up on the bed. Eric lay motionless, staring out the window at the
stars in the night sky, until the tremors from the nightmare disappeared. After thirty minutes he fell asleep again, by himself, in the dark room.
Excerpt 1 for Tainted Hero
Copyright 2007 by Michael W. Davis
Michael W. Davis
Stories to touch the heart and mind
She lit the last of six candles flanking the mirror on the bedroom dresser, walked back into the kitchen where Eric had finished washing the last dish, and
called out softly, “Eric, have you got a minute?”
When he turned, he was spellbound by the silhouette of her shapely figure outlined by the flickering dim rays of candlelight piercing seductively through the
thin layer of lace.
Eric issued one low pitch tone, “Whoa.”
“Is this too strong an answer on how I feel, Eric?”
Eric reiterated his one syllable response, “Whoa.”
“I guess this is alright for us, I mean our relationship . . .,” but before she could finish, Eric was there, all around her. No mores words, no confusion,
everything was clear between the two of them.
Eric picked up the woman he had wanted in his private thoughts for so many lonely years. He moved her into the bedroom and laid her carefully onto the
bed.
She unbuttoned his shirt and caressed his chest, felt his heart pulsing, pushing blood through all his muscles. Then his clothes disappeared. The man and
woman touched each other, and became joined flesh to flesh. She heard his breath deepen. Her spirit rushed up from its hiding place, into her flesh, and then
into his. Their lungs moved in harmony, each touch sent needles across her skin, up her arms and down her spine.
From the emptiness that had occupied her heart, the memory raced up and wedged between the two lovers. It reached out from that dark abyss where she
concealed her painful secret. Like an icy rain, the vision from the past sent her spirit running back to where it had hidden for so long.
Eric sensed it, two souls surging across the sky, together, and then one fled, separating quickly. He felt her fall away, vanish into the dark, the raging fire
quenched, You’re not there, you let go, but why? What did I do? Did I touch you wrong?
Eric slowly moved in next to her. He could feel her body shiver, not with the excitement that was there moments ago, but with fear.
She was filled with frustration and confusion, but especially regret. She had been robbed of her secret dreams of intimacy with the man pressed against her.
She now feared she might alienate the man she loved, and wanted, so deeply.
“I’m sorry Eric, so sorry. I wanted to be with you, so much, but it haunts me, always. I was, I mean, it just . . . I guess I’m not ready yet. I thought I was,
but its still there. I’m so very sorry.”
Eric could hear the tremors in her voice. He gently stroked her shoulder. Then he reached around her chest and pulled her to him carefully, “It’s alright. We
can work this out, the two of us, together. When you’re ready, you can share it all, whenever you choose, but maybe for tonight, we could just stay here,
close like this. If that’s alright with you?”
“You’re alright with that, I mean just touching up next to each other.”
“I won’t insult you and say it will be easy. Parts of me are about to blow a gasket, but I want you, when its right, and I will do nothing to risk that.”
As Sam’s breathing relaxed, and her body stopped quivering, she reached behind her and touched him softly on his bare thigh. “I love you Eric, for so long,
I’ve loved you.”
“I do too, and I’ll always be here for you, forever. Everything will work out. We’ve all the time we need. We’ll chase out your ghost and destroy the fiend
that haunts you. We’ll do it together, you and me, so it’s only the two us.”
Does he know? How could he? I’ve never told anyone. I promise Eric. I will be there for you, like I want to be, like I’ve always wanted, since the
beginning, but I must push him out first.
called out softly, “Eric, have you got a minute?”
When he turned, he was spellbound by the silhouette of her shapely figure outlined by the flickering dim rays of candlelight piercing seductively through the
thin layer of lace.
Eric issued one low pitch tone, “Whoa.”
“Is this too strong an answer on how I feel, Eric?”
Eric reiterated his one syllable response, “Whoa.”
“I guess this is alright for us, I mean our relationship . . .,” but before she could finish, Eric was there, all around her. No mores words, no confusion,
everything was clear between the two of them.
Eric picked up the woman he had wanted in his private thoughts for so many lonely years. He moved her into the bedroom and laid her carefully onto the
bed.
She unbuttoned his shirt and caressed his chest, felt his heart pulsing, pushing blood through all his muscles. Then his clothes disappeared. The man and
woman touched each other, and became joined flesh to flesh. She heard his breath deepen. Her spirit rushed up from its hiding place, into her flesh, and then
into his. Their lungs moved in harmony, each touch sent needles across her skin, up her arms and down her spine.
From the emptiness that had occupied her heart, the memory raced up and wedged between the two lovers. It reached out from that dark abyss where she
concealed her painful secret. Like an icy rain, the vision from the past sent her spirit running back to where it had hidden for so long.
Eric sensed it, two souls surging across the sky, together, and then one fled, separating quickly. He felt her fall away, vanish into the dark, the raging fire
quenched, You’re not there, you let go, but why? What did I do? Did I touch you wrong?
Eric slowly moved in next to her. He could feel her body shiver, not with the excitement that was there moments ago, but with fear.
She was filled with frustration and confusion, but especially regret. She had been robbed of her secret dreams of intimacy with the man pressed against her.
She now feared she might alienate the man she loved, and wanted, so deeply.
“I’m sorry Eric, so sorry. I wanted to be with you, so much, but it haunts me, always. I was, I mean, it just . . . I guess I’m not ready yet. I thought I was,
but its still there. I’m so very sorry.”
Eric could hear the tremors in her voice. He gently stroked her shoulder. Then he reached around her chest and pulled her to him carefully, “It’s alright. We
can work this out, the two of us, together. When you’re ready, you can share it all, whenever you choose, but maybe for tonight, we could just stay here,
close like this. If that’s alright with you?”
“You’re alright with that, I mean just touching up next to each other.”
“I won’t insult you and say it will be easy. Parts of me are about to blow a gasket, but I want you, when its right, and I will do nothing to risk that.”
As Sam’s breathing relaxed, and her body stopped quivering, she reached behind her and touched him softly on his bare thigh. “I love you Eric, for so long,
I’ve loved you.”
“I do too, and I’ll always be here for you, forever. Everything will work out. We’ve all the time we need. We’ll chase out your ghost and destroy the fiend
that haunts you. We’ll do it together, you and me, so it’s only the two us.”
Does he know? How could he? I’ve never told anyone. I promise Eric. I will be there for you, like I want to be, like I’ve always wanted, since the
beginning, but I must push him out first.
Excerpt 2 for Tainted Hero
Excerpt 3 for Tainted Hero
The Senator peered over the top of his specks at the husky man and young woman seated across and to the right of his desk. Then he focused again on the
document they had delivered for his review.
While the Senator read the report, the young woman stared out the window at the small pond where the mallard gracefully led a newly born set of
ducklings. The view of the small stream feeding into the pond made her fidget even more. The Senator glanced down at the young woman’s legs as they
flittered up and down nervously.
“Ms. Dickerson, do you have a problem?”
“No sir, there’s no problem here.” The young woman replied and tried to divert her attention away from her dilemma to the rustic surroundings of the large
log house. She scanned the twenty-foot ceilings with exposed wood beams and cedar stained tongue and groove natural wood planks. The Senator caught
the motion of the young woman when she turned toward the massive stone fireplace that consumed half the wall.
“The chimney and mantle come from right here on my farm. Those are water worn granite stones from the river that runs through my lower eighty acres.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it, and the copper inlays over the mantel are exquisite. Is that image engraved in the top picture the view from your window?”
the young woman asked.
“Yes it is. My daughter is an artist. She did that inlay for my birthday several years ago.”
The Senator returned to the report, but remained aware of the discomfort that the young woman continued to endure.
After a few minutes, the Senator could no longer bear the young woman’s obvious predicament. “Young lady, I recognize when a woman is in distress. It’s
okay, there’s no need for you to suffer. Go into the hallway and turn left, it’s the third door down on the right.”
Both men smiled while the young woman scurried out of the room and pressed her hands securely to her sides.
The senator noted, “She reminds me of my youngest daughter.” Then he removed his glasses and tossed them gently onto his desk pad. He pulled the
document to within six inches of his eyes and returned to studying the details printed on each page. Every few sheets, the elderly gentleman would shake his
head slowly as he interpreted the significance of the results. After he finished the last page, the Senator placed the document down in the center of his desk
and turned his attention outside to the large collie that strained at its chain to devour the ducks swimming in the pond.
Without turning his head, the Senator pronounced, “What I have feared for so long, it’s finally here, but much sooner then anyone expected.”
“I’m sorry Senator, but we can’t discuss the specifics of the report in this unsecured environment. Maybe you should request a mobile secure enclosure for
discussing classified material.”
“I probably won’t be here long enough to justify expending the taxpayer’s money for a mobile SCIF. We can just discuss in general what all this means to
us as a nation.”
The senator looked back at the report lying on his desk, and then toward the only other person in the room, “Mr. Harris, tell the Director I appreciate what
your team has done for us. The question still remains, what are we going to do about it?”
At that moment the young woman reentered the room, just as Mr. Harris responded, “I’m not sure Senator, but something has to be done before it’s too
late.”
“I agree Mr. Harris; however, the solution will be very complicated technically, politically and socially. There are global ramifications to this, and the way we
approach the problem could explode in our faces.”
The room became silent as each person searched for something profound to say or share, but nothing was there.
The Senator stood up, rubbed his left leg, and walked over to peer out of the wall of glass that formed the entire south side of his house, “I want to thank
both of you for driving down here all the way from Langley to see me.”
Mr. Harris noted, “It was a pleasant trip, Senator. I love your farm. It’s very peaceful and serene. The mountains seem to reach up and envelope you from
all sides.”
The elderly gentleman turned toward the scenic view just outside his window, “I searched for years to find this place. We’re nuzzled at the far northern
edge of the Shenandoah mountain range. To the right you can see the eastern ridge of Brown Mountain, and off in the distance to the left you can see the tip
of Massanutten Mountain. The South Fork of the Shenandoah River forms the lower boundary to my sanctuary. In the winter, when the snow blankets this
side of the mountains, the view is simply breathtaking. I can sit here for hours and watch nature slowly paint a white canvas along the ridgelines of the
surrounding mountains. The pines along the ridge form fingers that stretch down from the sky. I can’t get enough of it. No matter how long I stare out this
window, it always consumes me. Regardless of how much pressure and tension they send my way, this view grounds me to what really matters in the
grand scheme.”
The Senator paused for a moment, and then limped back toward his desk to pick up the report, “Have these results been validated? Are you sure they’re
correct?”
Mr. Harris stated, “I wish the report would have turned out differently, Senator Robertson, but we ran the projections several times. There’s no mistake. It
will happen, and soon.”
The Senator shook the hands of the man and woman from Langley, “Tell the Director I am in his debt, and I will stop by when I get back to DC next week.
Also, I request that these results be tightly held to a small group of people. I’m sure they will eventually be leaked to the press, but I would like some time
before the report becomes the Sunday morning media frenzy.”
The stout man in the three-piece suit walked over to the desk and placed the report in the courier pouch. Then he locked and secured the contents for the
trip back to Washington, placed the key in his pocket and offered, “No problem, Senator. The Robertson report has already been designated Top Secret.”
The elderly gentleman escorted the two guests to the door, and called into the hallway, “Davis, I need you.” The Senator walked over to his rocking chair
and sat down. While he watched the two visitors from Langley depart along his long driveway, he rubbed his left leg vigorously, “Damn these old bones are
really starting to ache any time I move around much. I guess I’ll have to go back to the doctor and have them checked out.”
At that moment, a young man in his late twenties knocked on the door and entered the room, “Yes, Senator Robertson. You wanted to see me?”
“Brian, pull up a chair and watch the evening activities with me as we figure out what our next move should be.”
“How did the report turn out, Senator? Was it anything like we discussed?”
”It’s worse than I expected, Brian. I thought we would have more time, but it will be upon us sooner then anyone has imagined. I hope I have enough time
left here on Mother Earth to get them to do something before it’s too late. Now that we have data that proves I’m not just some silly old crackpot, I want to
establish a study to help evaluate potential solutions to our dilemma. We need to determine our best strategy for dealing with this situation before it gets here.
If we act immediately, we may still have time to delay the catastrophe until a more prolonged solution can be derived. At least, that’s my hope.”
“Senator, what should we call the analysis, the Robertson study?”
“No, I want no credit for what we have to do. Besides, Langley has already dubbed this one as the Robertson report. It would get confusing as hell. You
studied ancient history. What name do you think would be appropriate?”
The young man thought for a few seconds, “How does the ‘Osiris’ study sound?”
“I’m familiar with that Egyptian myth about life and death. I think it fits well. Osiris it is then.”
document they had delivered for his review.
While the Senator read the report, the young woman stared out the window at the small pond where the mallard gracefully led a newly born set of
ducklings. The view of the small stream feeding into the pond made her fidget even more. The Senator glanced down at the young woman’s legs as they
flittered up and down nervously.
“Ms. Dickerson, do you have a problem?”
“No sir, there’s no problem here.” The young woman replied and tried to divert her attention away from her dilemma to the rustic surroundings of the large
log house. She scanned the twenty-foot ceilings with exposed wood beams and cedar stained tongue and groove natural wood planks. The Senator caught
the motion of the young woman when she turned toward the massive stone fireplace that consumed half the wall.
“The chimney and mantle come from right here on my farm. Those are water worn granite stones from the river that runs through my lower eighty acres.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it, and the copper inlays over the mantel are exquisite. Is that image engraved in the top picture the view from your window?”
the young woman asked.
“Yes it is. My daughter is an artist. She did that inlay for my birthday several years ago.”
The Senator returned to the report, but remained aware of the discomfort that the young woman continued to endure.
After a few minutes, the Senator could no longer bear the young woman’s obvious predicament. “Young lady, I recognize when a woman is in distress. It’s
okay, there’s no need for you to suffer. Go into the hallway and turn left, it’s the third door down on the right.”
Both men smiled while the young woman scurried out of the room and pressed her hands securely to her sides.
The senator noted, “She reminds me of my youngest daughter.” Then he removed his glasses and tossed them gently onto his desk pad. He pulled the
document to within six inches of his eyes and returned to studying the details printed on each page. Every few sheets, the elderly gentleman would shake his
head slowly as he interpreted the significance of the results. After he finished the last page, the Senator placed the document down in the center of his desk
and turned his attention outside to the large collie that strained at its chain to devour the ducks swimming in the pond.
Without turning his head, the Senator pronounced, “What I have feared for so long, it’s finally here, but much sooner then anyone expected.”
“I’m sorry Senator, but we can’t discuss the specifics of the report in this unsecured environment. Maybe you should request a mobile secure enclosure for
discussing classified material.”
“I probably won’t be here long enough to justify expending the taxpayer’s money for a mobile SCIF. We can just discuss in general what all this means to
us as a nation.”
The senator looked back at the report lying on his desk, and then toward the only other person in the room, “Mr. Harris, tell the Director I appreciate what
your team has done for us. The question still remains, what are we going to do about it?”
At that moment the young woman reentered the room, just as Mr. Harris responded, “I’m not sure Senator, but something has to be done before it’s too
late.”
“I agree Mr. Harris; however, the solution will be very complicated technically, politically and socially. There are global ramifications to this, and the way we
approach the problem could explode in our faces.”
The room became silent as each person searched for something profound to say or share, but nothing was there.
The Senator stood up, rubbed his left leg, and walked over to peer out of the wall of glass that formed the entire south side of his house, “I want to thank
both of you for driving down here all the way from Langley to see me.”
Mr. Harris noted, “It was a pleasant trip, Senator. I love your farm. It’s very peaceful and serene. The mountains seem to reach up and envelope you from
all sides.”
The elderly gentleman turned toward the scenic view just outside his window, “I searched for years to find this place. We’re nuzzled at the far northern
edge of the Shenandoah mountain range. To the right you can see the eastern ridge of Brown Mountain, and off in the distance to the left you can see the tip
of Massanutten Mountain. The South Fork of the Shenandoah River forms the lower boundary to my sanctuary. In the winter, when the snow blankets this
side of the mountains, the view is simply breathtaking. I can sit here for hours and watch nature slowly paint a white canvas along the ridgelines of the
surrounding mountains. The pines along the ridge form fingers that stretch down from the sky. I can’t get enough of it. No matter how long I stare out this
window, it always consumes me. Regardless of how much pressure and tension they send my way, this view grounds me to what really matters in the
grand scheme.”
The Senator paused for a moment, and then limped back toward his desk to pick up the report, “Have these results been validated? Are you sure they’re
correct?”
Mr. Harris stated, “I wish the report would have turned out differently, Senator Robertson, but we ran the projections several times. There’s no mistake. It
will happen, and soon.”
The Senator shook the hands of the man and woman from Langley, “Tell the Director I am in his debt, and I will stop by when I get back to DC next week.
Also, I request that these results be tightly held to a small group of people. I’m sure they will eventually be leaked to the press, but I would like some time
before the report becomes the Sunday morning media frenzy.”
The stout man in the three-piece suit walked over to the desk and placed the report in the courier pouch. Then he locked and secured the contents for the
trip back to Washington, placed the key in his pocket and offered, “No problem, Senator. The Robertson report has already been designated Top Secret.”
The elderly gentleman escorted the two guests to the door, and called into the hallway, “Davis, I need you.” The Senator walked over to his rocking chair
and sat down. While he watched the two visitors from Langley depart along his long driveway, he rubbed his left leg vigorously, “Damn these old bones are
really starting to ache any time I move around much. I guess I’ll have to go back to the doctor and have them checked out.”
At that moment, a young man in his late twenties knocked on the door and entered the room, “Yes, Senator Robertson. You wanted to see me?”
“Brian, pull up a chair and watch the evening activities with me as we figure out what our next move should be.”
“How did the report turn out, Senator? Was it anything like we discussed?”
”It’s worse than I expected, Brian. I thought we would have more time, but it will be upon us sooner then anyone has imagined. I hope I have enough time
left here on Mother Earth to get them to do something before it’s too late. Now that we have data that proves I’m not just some silly old crackpot, I want to
establish a study to help evaluate potential solutions to our dilemma. We need to determine our best strategy for dealing with this situation before it gets here.
If we act immediately, we may still have time to delay the catastrophe until a more prolonged solution can be derived. At least, that’s my hope.”
“Senator, what should we call the analysis, the Robertson study?”
“No, I want no credit for what we have to do. Besides, Langley has already dubbed this one as the Robertson report. It would get confusing as hell. You
studied ancient history. What name do you think would be appropriate?”
The young man thought for a few seconds, “How does the ‘Osiris’ study sound?”
“I’m familiar with that Egyptian myth about life and death. I think it fits well. Osiris it is then.”
Copyright 2007 by Michael W. Davis
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| "2008 Best Romance Suspense nominee" |
| "Best Novel 2008" |