After our meal and meeting, we agreed to a thirty-minute break for whatever we wanted to do. I chose to go to my room for a fast shower and a change of clothes. I had brought khaki cargo pants, a light top, and running shoes. I met up with the rest of our party in the lobby, and we left for the airport.
Major DeMarco greeted us at the airport and, as promised, gave each of us a satellite phone. Mr. Shaw and Sergeant Doll issued us small knapsacks that contained bottles of water and rations. The kitchen in the compound had been destroyed. The major told us Harley Rogers would be staying at the hospital; Sherman was not doing well.
The seven of us were on board and barely strapped in when Mr. Shaw announced we were about to lift off. He also told us to put on our headsets: to save our ears and because it would be the only way we could communicate with each other while in flight.
A big roar went up from the props and we lifted off, tilting slightly left, and then turning in that direction, while also gaining altitude. In moments, we were out over crystal clear water. This was my first time in any kind of chopper, and it was a little disquieting at first . . . no wings.
Mr. Shaw announced we would ascend to six hundred feet, would pass over the island, and then do a U-turn and set down in the compound. That gave us an opportunity to see most of the island. From our side of the chopper, we didn’t see the destruction until we turned around. We also saw a scattering of Marines and civilians.
“I see Johnny and Dad. Dad’s arm’s in a sling,” Ro said excitedly, pointing.
Sure enough, the large man was standing right alongside Rufus and supporting him. “They look great,” I said.
“They look beautiful,” she said a little choked up.
I barely felt the landing. Once on the ground, we greeted all around.
“Miss Laura.” It was Johnny.
“Johnny, you look good.”
“I’m fine. Governor’s got some shrapnel in him, but it ain’t enough to put him down.” He grinned broadly. “I got a couple of scratches, nothing much.”
“Nothing, hell!” I heard Rufus say. “When that damn grenade went off and I went down, Johnny covered me with his body. Bullets were whizzing all over the damn place. Johnny got nicked. Then he picked up one of those small machine guns we’d been issued . . . shit, he blew that ass’s head right off!” he said, roaring. “Clean as a whistle. That scum was one of only two who got all the way into the compound. Somebody else got the other one.”
I looked at Johnny. “You are a good friend, Johnny.”
He gave me a young boy’s aw-shucks look and scuffed his foot in the dirt.
“Governor’s sure glad to see Miss Roanne,” he said beaming.
“She is real glad to see him too. How are things going here?”
“We started a cleanup, but just around here.”
“Laura,” Ro called out.
She waved for me to join her. “See you later, Johnny.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Ro, Gavin, Frances, and Rufus were with a man in a dark blue, tight-fitting uniform.
Rufus introduced me to the military type. “Laura, meet Chief Driscoll.”
“Chief,” I responded.
Driscoll gave me a very slight nod. “We all together now? We’re going down into the bunker,” he said bluntly.
What a grave person, I thought. We entered one of the several small buildings and went down a flight of concrete stairs. Driscoll pushed a button and a thick steel door swung open. We went in, and it closed. We were in a room that was roughly twenty by twenty-five feet.
He explained that we were under three feet of steel-reinforced concrete and six feet of earth. “You may have noticed the mound behind the building we just entered.”
“This is impressive,” Gavin said.
There were twenty-six video monitors on one wall. It looked very much like a military control center we might see in a war movie: a wall filled with monitors and a huge control panel. Johnny appeared on three different screens, views from different angles and distances. He was working alongside two Marines.
“Only two cameras got destroyed in the invasion,” Driscoll said proudly.
“Excuse me, Chief,” I interjected. “What do you rely on for stateside communications?”
“Satellite, ma’am. It’s how we communicate with Mr. Rogers in New Jersey.”
“Is that traceable?” Crawford asked.
“It’s scrambled.”
Ro asked, “What about talking to the hospital?”
“We have a handset in Mr. Rogers’s room.” He punched in a number, but it didn’t answer. He tried again with the same results. “Let me call the hospital line.”
It was answered.
“This is Driscoll on C-2; is Mr. Harley Rogers in the area?” He listened, uttered a couple of unhuhs, then “Right, will do.” He punched off. “The new medical team that came in with you all is operating on Sherman Rogers.”
“I didn’t realize he was that serious,” Ro said.
Rufus took her arm. “Neither did we, sweetheart. Sherman’s tough, like his father. He’ll pull through.”
“You have done an outstanding job here, Chief,” Crawford said. “You were expecting a war and you got one.”
“Yes sir. Mr. Rogers told us we were here for the long haul and that someday somebody might pay us an uninvited visit.”
We went topside. Rufus, for all his bravado, had to take it easy. The Marines, Johnny, and some of Rogers’s employees were busy with the cleanup. I guessed the forensic men must have given them the okay.
“Building materials and construction workers are coming tomorrow,” Rufus said.
Frances, Ro, and I wandered around the compound, talking to some of the Rogers people. They had experienced a harrowing night. We then walked along a packed-down roadway to the top of a slope that led down to a cove, where a white launch was tied up to a small pier.
“From what Dad told me, this is where they probably came in. Look,” Ro pointed, “over there. Gavin and the DOD men.”
“Looks like they’re scavenging.”
“Gavin plans to spend the day with them. Hopefully . . .”
“Senator,” a male voice shouted. It was Mr. Shaw. “I’m making a run back to C-1 at 1130 hours. Anybody wanting to go, let me know. Also the President of Carmaya is holding a dinner tonight in honor of your and everyone else’s visit.”
“A dress-up? I can’t . . . didn’t bring . . .”
“That’s all right, Laura,” Ro said through a giggle, “just wear the best thing you brought.”
“Yes,” Frances Hartman said. “Casual is very acceptable.”
I hadn’t brought a “best thing.” I’d figure it out later. “I’ll be going back with you, Mr. Shaw.”
“As will I,” Frances said.
“I’ll stay here with Dad.”
“The governor’s invited, too, ma’am.”
“I’ll see that he gets there.”
“That might not be so easy,” I teased.
Ro grinned. “I’ve got the Marines.”
We all laughed. A welcome relief in our tension-filled day.