Evtimov paused. "I believe that the State is God."
Mack smiled. "I encourage you to rethink your position."
"Oh? How so?" Finally, a smile, although slight, from the Russian.
"It was not the state that saved millions of your people. It was not even the United States Navy or the Navy SEALs."
"No?" A curious look from the Russian. "Then I suppose God did all this?"
"Only the hand of God, Mr. President. Only the hand of God allowed our SEALs to board this vessel and shoot through the connection wires to that bomb – even as its creator was pushing the detonator. Less than a quarter of a second, Mr. President. Our bullets riddled the connection lines to that bomb less than a quarter of a second before the terrorist that built it pushed the detonator. That bomb blown this close to St. Petersburg would've made Hiroshima look like an amusement park. This was all stopped only by the hand of God Almighty."
The Russian's smile broke into a grin, then morphed back into the cold face that had arrived on board over an hour ago. "I will keep that in mind."
"I will pray that you do."
Embassy of the United States of America Moscow, Russia
The oppressive feeling of horror had subsided, and for that, Masha was grateful. Because of the events of the last twenty-four hours, she had found favor with the Americans, who now believed everything she had told them. A visa was being prepared allowing her to visit the United States. For her, this was a dream come true! She would be sure to find her missionary friends, the Allisons, and their seven children, who lived somewhere in North Carolina.
After that, somehow, someway, she would return to Russia and find Dima. No matter how long it took, she would put her faith in God that she and Dima would be together again, and that she would find a way to get him to America.
Even still, she could not shake her concern for the American sub commander whose torpedoes, ironically, had saved her life. From the guest lounge of the embassy, she found herself checking with CNN at least every half hour for updates. She checked her watch, and unmuted the television, where the American newsman Tom Miller appeared on the screen, along with the translated text.
"This is Tom Miller in Washington.
"In a surprising turn of events, the White House and the Kremlin have each issued statements within the last hour announcing that the majority of all American and Russian military forces in the Chechen-Turkish theater are withdrawing from the area.
"The White House confirms that the majority of United States forces built up in Turkey will be returned, including the heralded 82nd Airborne Division, and NATO military overflights over Georgia will cease immediately.
"At the same time, the Kremlin announced that all its divisions would commence withdrawal from Chechnya, pulling back to a point north of Volvograd.
"The Kremlin also announced that Russia was dismissing all charges against Commander Pete Miranda and his crew. The U.S. Navy confirmed that Miranda, the crew, along with defense counsel Lieutenant Commander Zack Brewer would be flown to Oceana Naval Air Station later in the week.
"Neither the U.S. nor Russia have offered a full explanation for all this, other than to say that an understanding was worked out between Presidents Williams and Evtimov at an undisclosed location, believed to be somewhere in Europe.
"The White House confirmed that such a meeting did occur, and that the world should be grateful to God that much was accomplished between the old rivals to promote peace.
"The Vatican praised today's developments, with Pope Benedict issuing a statement quoting from Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. Said the Pope, 'Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.' "
Oceana Naval Air Station Virginia Beach, Virginia
The large Air Force transport circled low over the vast expanse of the Oceana Naval Air Station. From his window seat just in front of the left wing, Pete Miranda looked down, where a large crowd of civilians, military, and press were gathered near the tarmac. The plane swooped down toward the runway, and after the thump of the plane's rubber wheels against the concrete, the hangars and grounded F-18 jet aircraft of the Oceana Naval Air Station rushed by in a blur.
Captain Ann Glover, the U.S. Naval Attache to Russia, stood at the front of the plane.
"Gentlemen, remember our protocol for debarkation. Lieutenant Commander Brewer will exit first, and then we will pause for a few minutes and bring Commander Miranda and the crew off."
The thought of home.
Would he see them? He prayed silently that they would be there for him.
Captain Glover motioned Zack and Pete to the front of the plane. They stood by the door, as flight attendants threw open the door just behind the cockpit.
The warm Virginia breeze and sunlight filled the cabin, and a large crowd of several thousand stood in a huge semicircle behind a large yellow ribbon. The crowd was holding a large, long, red, white, and blue sign that stretched about thirty feet from left to right.
Welcome Home Commander Miranda and Crew of USS Honolulu.
Tears welled in Pete's eyes.
"Remember, no comments to the press!" Captain Glover said. "Okay, Zack, get out of here."
From the top of the plane, Pete watched as his JAG officer, dressed sharply in his ser vice dress blue uniform, made his way down the steps. Zack reached the tarmac and shot a salute to two admirals at the base of the plane.
Pete recognized one of the admirals as Vice Admiral Charles McClure, commander of U.S. submarine forces in the Atlantic Fleet. McClure caught Pete's eye with a nod and a smile.
"Ladies and gentlemen, " a voice resonated from a loudspeaker. "Please give a big Navy welcome home to Commander Pete Miranda, and the crew of the USS Honolulu!"
The crowd broke into cheering and applause. The Navy band broke into a brassy rendition of "Anchors Aweigh."
"That's your cue, Commander!" Captain Glover said.
Pete waved as he descended the stairway. The crowd cheered even harder. He reached the bottom, directing a salute to Vice Admiral McClure.
McClure returned the salute. "The Navy is proud of you, Pete. You did the right thing."
"Thank you, Admiral." Pete waited for the admiral to drop his salute.
"There's someone else who's proud of you too."
"Sir?"
The admiral motioned to the right of the human horseshoe.
A boy and a girl stepped from the edge of the crowd, then sprinted with open arms across the tarmac.
"Hannah! Coley!" Pete fell to his knees. His children fell into his arms.
"We missed you, Daddy!" Hannah hugged him and kissed him over and over again on the cheeks. "We were so scared you would never come back!"
"Can you stay with us for a while?" Coley's eyes flooded with tears.
"Come here, you two!" Pete wrapped them both under his arms and kissed them both on the head. "I'll never leave you again."
"You promise, Daddy?" Hannah looked up at him. At thirteen, she was becoming a lovely young lady. How had he let the time slip away?
"I promise, Hannah, that I'll never miss another one of your dance recitals." He looked at his son. "And Coley, I'll be at all your soccer games from here on."
"But how will you be at my games if the Navy sends you out in your submarine again?"
Pete stood, running his hands through his kids' hair. "Because tomorrow, kids, I'm putting in my papers. I'm retiring from the Navy."
"Really?" they exclaimed in unison.
"Really. We'll be together forever, kids." He kissed them once more.
"Forever."
Don Brown
