The Lonely Hearts 06 The Grunt 2 Read online

  The ensuing public relations fallout had been one big cluster fuck. All crisis-communications tactics were blown out the window.

  Prior to the crash, millions of dollars had been spent on multi-pronged marketing campaigns, media training and brand awareness to get the newer airline noticed; but the thing that puts Southern Atlantic Airlines on the map was not their savvy marketing, it was the infamous crash.

  For months after the incident, every major media outlet in the country interviewed families of victims, who were primarily families of military personnel with deeply moving stories. On top of that, social media took on the second wave of the PR nightmare, reminding those who might have otherwise forgotten the crash and that the culprit was SAA.

  The stories and photos that circulated resonated with millions of viewers and increased any potential compensation that the company would be forced to pay along with hampering their ability to successfully compete in the airline marketplace.

  It seemed that potential passengers were more willing to take a bus across the Atlantic before riding on their planes, even with the jaw dropping deals and lower pricing schedules.

  Southern Atlantic Airlines was screwed or, at least according to quarterly stock reports, weekly media stories and potential investors.

  After 18 months of lengthy bills and failed negotiations, lawyers for SAA had made the contingency plan simple. Settle with as many as possible for undisclosed amounts as soon as possible. The clock was ticking and every signature counted. When they got to court, if the airline only had a few people trying to sue for the maximum amount, they could potentially avoid bankruptcy.

  Kevin was exhausted. On top of a recent divorce and a less-than-promising parental plan for his 4-year old son, he was fighting to stay afloat with this lawsuit. He had spent long hours in closed-door meetings with lawyers coming up with offers. He had spent even more time negotiating with some of those who were named in the lawsuit to accept the payout instead of moving forward. Plus, in just the last few weeks in an attempt to shore up money, many employees had taken a pay cut.

  So with all that, why hadn’t he left? Because Southern Atlantic Airlines was a family business that his father had put everything in to and neither he nor his four brothers could just walk away from this without giving it everything that they had first.

  Now, he had arrived at the Amy Black case.

  Brett Black had been continuously unavailable for meetings over the past last two years, but had named his new wife the executor over the negotiations through a power of attorney. Oddly enough, Black had been the least emotional out of all the families of the deceased. He had taken the news quietly. He had refused interviews quietly; he had refused first offers from their lawyers quietly and hopefully he would finally agree to this more generous offer quietly.

  If more people had been the caliber of Brett Black, maybe their business wouldn’t be sinking.

  Looking at the live check lying in front of him on his smooth sandalwood desk named out to Courtney Black, he picked up the phone in his little box of an office on the 15th floor of SAA’s Raleigh, NC headquarters and dialed her number.

  “Hello,” Courtney answered, unloading off the plane from Baltimore to Jacksonville. She moved as quickly as she could with the crowd of people exiting the terminal.

  “Mrs. Black, its Kevin Daugherty. I’m glad that I finally reached you.” He touched the check. “You’re quite a hard woman to get in touch with these days.”

  Pushing her shades up on her head, she rolled her tired neck. “Sorry,” Courtney said, pulling her small luggage with Brett trailing closely behind. “I’ve been really busy.”

  “Baby, can I help you with anything?” Brett asked, moving slowly on his crutches.

  “No, honey. I’ve got it,” Courtney said emphatically for the 50th time. She appreciated Brett’s desire not to be helpless, but he really needed to understand that what she needed from him n was just to follow the flow of the crowd. He had already turned down a wheelchair, not because he didn’t need it, but because he was too proud. Now, she worried about him falling or being bumped into.

  Kevin inhaled and raised his voice a little so that she could hear him better over the noise in the background. “Well, ma’am, I’d like to drive down to Swansboro and talk to you this week, if I can.”

  Courtney frowned, not another appointment. She had to take Brett to the Naval Hospital for follow-up for his injuries, meet with the pre-school teacher, and meet with the Claims Adjuster about the roof. “This week really isn’t good,” she said apologetically.

  Kevin wasn’t taking no for an answer. “We’d like to make you a final offer,” he said, hoping she might change her mind. “I can tell you it’s significantly larger than the first three. I won’t waste a moment of your time, and there will be no double talk. I promise you.”

  Double talk seemed to be all that these people could do, Courtney thought to herself. She turned to her husband and adjusted the heavy bag on her shoulder. “It’s Southern Atlantic.” Her voice had a hint of sarcasm in it that she wanted Daugherty to hear. “They want to drive down and make us a final offer,” she said, hoping that Brett would weigh in and tell them to wait until they were settled back at home.

  Brett had nearly forgotten about life stateside with all that happened, especially regarding Amy. For nearly eight months, the only types of choices he had to make were ones of life and death. There were no meetings over there that were not about Ops or calls that were not about strategy.

  Sweat rolled down his face as he fought the pain throbbing in his cast. Maybe what he needed to feel normal was to start doing normal things again. In all honesty, he welcomed shaking up the pace a little. Plus, he was certain that Courtney could use some help with everything she had been left to take care of. It was better to just dive back in. “Okay, well, we’ll be there,” he said, wiping his brow. “Tell him to come on down.”

  Courtney smacked her lips. “This week is fine,” she said, turning back around with the bags. She rolled her eyes. “What day?”

  “Today’s Monday,” Kevin said, scanning his desk calendar. “I can be there tomorrow at 11:00 A.M.” In truth, he’d cancel everything set up for the entire week if he had to.

  “We’ll see you then.” Courtney said, hanging up the phone. Great, one more meeting.

  Brett stopped after they finally entered into the luggage claim of the airport and took a breath. It was a long haul for him from the plane and he needed a second. “What did he say?”

  Courtney walked up to him, pulled a wet-wipe from her purse and wiped the sweat from her husband’s flushed face. Looking up into his eyes, she kissed his lips and lingered there for a minute. “He said no double talk and he’s ready to make an offer.”

  Brett gripped the handles of his crutches. “Better than the previous offers?”

  “Better than the previous ones,” Courtney answered as she turned on a swivel and saw her father waiting for them in a chair near the door. “Good. Dad is here.” She waved toward her Dad and smiled. “The one thing I love about that man is that he knows nothing if not how to be on time.”

  “We could have taken a cab. I mean, they’ve watched the kids for two weeks; they’ve taken Cameron to school for two weeks. We could have done this, at least, for ourselves.” Brett could feel himself getting upset. Colonel Lawless had to feel as though Brett was behaving a little less than chivalrous with his daughter lugging around her own luggage. It took a stab at his manhood.

  Courtney put her hand over his as if to hush his thoughts. “Hey, that’s what family is for, Marine. Dad and Mom don’t mind. They volunteered. They want to help.”

  “Yeah, but I feel as though we’re taking advantage of them.”

  “That’s because you don’t ever ask anyone for help,” Courtney said, releasing him. Her smile made her words easier to take. “Don’t internalize this; be grateful for it.” Her naturally arched brow rose.

  Brett couldn’t look her directly in th
e eye; it was like being hypnotized by one of those mythical sea sirens. “Don’t shrink talk me,” he huffed. “Just because you’re in school for it, doesn’t mean that you get to use it on me.” He glared down at her with mock disgust and a bit of playful banter.

  Courtney grinned. “Oh, I’m going to shrink talk you…as soon as we get home.”

  Brett couldn’t help but grin then. They had not been able to get as intimate as he would have liked in the hospital, but his pain management had gotten better and his hopes were high for a little more privacy when they arrived at the house. Plus, that kiss, while short and sweet, woke up something in him that was anything but innocent.

  ***

  The devil was busy, and Jeffery Lawless just couldn’t catch a break from him. First, he had to break the news to Courtney that her husband had been injured and now this news to Brett.

  He had been at the airport for nearly an hour waiting by the window looking at all the happy people as they passed in and out of the doors with bags of clothes and bright smiles. The sun was out, shining bright. The weather was unseasonably nice. And he was left with this fresh hell to yet again wade through, all while promising to someone that things would get better.

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, he fought the anxiety building up at him with each passing second.

  He had received the call the night before from his son. David had called on his private line around three a.m. and had been a complete mess. The boy had cried on the phone for hours trying to find a way for this to be his fault, but the simple truth of it was that this was war. Death was a very nasty part of a very nasty business, and if he ever wanted to ascend further up the ranks in the Marine Corps, he had had to learn to deal with it as quietly and discreetly as he could, while they did their jobs.

  David had first wanted word to be sent to Brett at the Naval Hospital, but Jeffery had warned him against it. He promised his son that he would personally deliver the message to Brett as soon as he arrived back to Jacksonville.

  But now that task felt nearly too hard to bear.

  He watched the young couple come out of the terminal bright with hope renewed and encouraged from being with each other, which was a long way from when he had first seen Brett back at the hospital just two weeks ago. Now, he’d have to suck the life out of the man one more time.

  “Daddy,” Courtney said, walking up and giving him a big hug. She embraced him tightly. “How are you?”

  There was no point in starting the conversation off with a lie. So it was better not to answer. “How are you?” Jeffery asked, redirecting his question.

  She appraised him suspiciously. “Good. The flight was okay, not too bad on Brett,” Courtney answered, seeing stress in his face and the twitch in his eye. “Everything okay?” She stepped back a little.

  “How are you, sir?” Brett said, offering his hand as he approached.

  “Good to see you, son,” Jeffery said, holding his hand for a second. “Let me get your bags and get you loaded.”

  “I can help,” Courtney said, setting down her bag on the chair. “Baby, can you watch the luggage while I get our other stuff?” she asked Brett.

  “Sure,” Brett said, noticing Lawless’ weird mood also. Something about him seemed off.

  Jeffery and Courtney walked over to the baggage area and waited for their things to come around on the carousel. Brett decided to take a second and have a seat. Resting on the bench, he watched from afar, as Jeffery leaned into his daughter and whispered something to her. She looked up abruptly and paused, then looked over at Brett.

  “What in the hell is going on now?” Brett asked under his breath. Pulling nicotine gum from his pocket, he popped one in his mouth and looked at his watch. Not being able to smoke was driving him insane and with Courtney not knowing about the snuff thing, it forced him to really quit. Maybe he could find a way to send her out of the house on an errand so that he could bum a smoke from the neighbor. It would be just his luck that Joe had quit while he was away also.

  As they brought the luggage back with them, Brett got up and balanced himself on his crutches. “Let’s get this show on the road,” he said as Courtney walked back up to him.

  “Ready?” she asked, eyes wet from impending tears.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking back at Jeffery.

  “We should go home first,” Courtney said, looking down at the floor.

  “No, I want to know what’s going on now!” Brett said, waiting for Jeffery to tell him. “Are the babies okay?” His first mind went to his children. Had something happened to them? Had something happened to Diane?

  Jeffery twisted up his lip and stood up straighter. “The kids are fine.”

  “Then who isn’t?” Brett asked. He knew that look. Something horrible had happened…again.

  “I was hoping we could discuss this once I got you home,” Jeffery said, looking around.

  “And I respect you for your dignity, sir, but I insist,” Brett said, swallowing hard. “Tell me now…whatever it is.”

  Jeffery couldn’t say no. Had he been in Brett’s shoes, he would have insisted on the same in a lot less respectful way.

  Courtney’s eyes overflowed with tears. With her hands balled up beside her, she waited for Brett to explode, to make some scene in this place.

  “Son, I am sorry to relay this message,” Jeffery said, shaking his head. He stepped up closer to the young man. “Your entire team expired last evening at around 2300 hours our time while in the Zabul Province on an Op.”

  Brett bit down on his lip and tears welded up in his eyes. Gripping the sides of his crutches tighter, his entire body began to tremble.

  “Everyone?” he asked, blinking fast as the hot tears dropped down on to his cheeks.

  “Everyone,” Colonel Lawless answered regrettably. “We found out last night. David called, wanted to call you at the hospital but I advised against it. Considering that you had to make the flight from Baltimore back here; I felt it best to tell you now.” He put his hand on his shoulder. “But I still didn’t want to tell you like this…out in public. I was hoping to wait until you got home…seemed like the most decent thing to do.”

  “Doesn’t really matter, does it, sir?” Brett’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his muscular neck. “They’re still dead.” Even as he said the words, he simply could not believe it.

  “They died bravely serving their country,” Jeffery said, stepping back.

  “How did they die? What killed them?” Joe’s face flashed through Brett’s mind.

  “An IED,” Jeffery said, shoving his fists down into his pants pockets. “They completed the operation successfully. However, the extraction was ambushed.”

  Brett shook his head and took in a deep breath as the tears rolled. Courtney stood beside them, looking at her husband in complete sympathy. She was angry that he had been injured, angry that his team had been killed, angry that the war had not ended after all this time but so thankful to God that Brett had been spared.

  The men whispered something between them and then Jeffery wrapped his arms around Brett and held him for a minute, seeing that Brett couldn’t keep his tears and sobs at bay. When Jeffery was certain that he could standalone, he picked up the bags and escorted them to the car.

  “I’m so sorry.” Courtney said while rubbing Brett’s back.

  “I just want to get home,” Brett said, barely above a whisper. “Take me home, baby.”

  Chapter 8

  “Homecoming means coming home to what’s in your heart.” - Anonymous

  It was near dusk when the car pulled up to Brett’s house, he looked at it from the driveway as if it were completely foreign to him – not because it had been run down since he was gone, but because it was so very picturesque.

  Courtney had been up to her normal overhauls – a continual process to make their home better, more comfortable and more inviting. She was like her mother in that respect, always preparing for the night that she would be called on to be the ho
stess. And she played her role well. Every single detail of their home was full of love and thought, a thing that he had become accustomed to with her around but still appreciated.

  The yard was well-manicured, the garden tended to and filled with plants, flowers, bushes, rambling purple Clematis vines and red mulch; new sparkly butterfly stickers were on the mailbox, and a crisp United States flag flew patriotically on a pole attached to the front of their home. It was peaceful and beautiful and yet another reminder of why men happily went to their deaths over there, so that no one would ruin the lives that they have here.

  The sprinkler was out in the middle of the lawn, rotating its flow of fresh water into the earth right beside the red-hatted gnome that he and Courtney noticed on a day trip to Morehead. Newly cleaned windows gleamed in front of white plantation blinds around the house. Track lights lined the perfectly edged corners of the lawn leading up to the front steps. On the porch, the two rocking chairs sat with yellow pillows on their seats and in between the chairs was a large tin canister filled with vibrant yellow sunflowers.

  Parked in front of the garage was his beloved black F-150 truck, clean as a whistle and waiting for him. Beside it was Courtney’s new little red supercharged Fiat. The vehicles made a handsome pair, just like them.

  Alas, everything was in order. Everything was well taken care of - a thing that he could not have expected if his late wife had been here. Amy was a woman of waste, and where she was not lazy, she was selfish, a combination that did not bode well for housework, yard work or work in general. He saw that even more now being married to Courtney – oh what world he nearly missed.

  Pulling himself from his thoughts, he slowly stepped out of Colonel Lawless’ immaculate Lincoln Navigator with his crutches leading him and closed the door.

  “Welcome home,” Courtney said, leaning in and giving him a kiss.