The words stunned Selmon, and his small entourage gasped. Trying to direct attention away from the issues, Mr. Selmon predictably found an out when an assistant whispered to Selmon who Beau was. “I know who you are,” Selmon said.
“Forget me, why don’t you worry about the system you’ve created. Fear the system you’ve taken part in making.”
“How can you be so righteous when you have killed people on your missions?” snapped the politician.
“That’s right. I’ve killed so many I can’t count,” he said, the blue eyes slashing out at Selmon.
The politician laughed. “You are crazy?”
“Maybe.” Beau tilted his head and finished the last of his drink. “Mr. Selmon, you solve the world’s problems. I’m sure you know what’s best for the people. You don’t need me.” Beau eyed the bar, and alone moved away from the large crowd gathered to listen to the arguments and opinions.
Krysti watched Beau walk away and pulled at Sunday. “What did they mean about killing people?”
Angry, Natasha quickly pursued Beau.
Unsure what to say, Sunday mumbled, “The Middle East wars they fought in. Some people died in the bombings. Beau was involved in some of those and people feel he was wrong. But how do you control and run a war on paper?”
A little confused, Krysti nodded but continued to listen to Selmon. The politician promptly moved his conversation to Marix and others who would listen to his ideas. The group divided into separate factions, mumbling and discussing their own diverse opinions.
When Natasha caught up to Beau she forced him to stop. She spat words filled with anger. “Beau, your attitude is horrible. You should show more respect for those that run this country.”
With a shrug Beau responded. “I showed him the respect he deserved.”
“Our politicians do the best they can.”
“They can do better.”
“You didn’t get enough revenge and killing in Israel,” she snorted. “Now you want to bring death here?”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” said Beau. “I’d like the killing to stop, but—”
Natasha interrupted. “I don’t want to hear excuses.” Suddenly she calmed and fear filled her eyes. “I’m afraid you’re going to get Sully killed.”
The hurt showed in Beau’s eyes. “I’d never do that Natasha.”
Anger and sadness filled her words. “I hope not.” She spun about and returned to the others, leaving Beau alone. When Natasha arrived back at the small group she took Sully’s arm and smiled at him.
Slowly the conversation drew away from the more volatile subjects and more toward the coming year and the upcoming New Year’s Bowl games. The main critical issues were ignored and once again swept aside. The soldiers issued challenges as to who would win the Rose Bowclass="underline" UCLA or Michigan State. Others were interested in the LSU Nebraska Orange Bowl where the president would be in attendance.
Even with the changing discussion, the debate between Beau and Selmon had not been lost on Krysti, and she wondered where all the hostility had gathered to bring such a reaction from him. She passed it off to a normal dislike of men in politics. She did not agree with his view of welfare and thought “survival of the fittest” was archaic and harsh in the civilized world and the New World Order former President Bush had created. Still his views had merit — a little stronger than most — with distinct and clear convictions. She cast her beliefs and ideas aside like the others, and concentrated more on the party at hand and keeping Michael’s amorous advances at arm’s length.
For all but one it was New Year’s Eve. It was America. There were no problems. And if there were any problems, they would be solved tomorrow or the next day or the next. The party prepared for the countdown to the midnight celebration. Beau disappeared from the crowd just before the stroke of midnight and the New Year. The minutes disappeared as the appointed time approached. Then it dwindled to seconds… ten, nine, eight
… three, two, one! Horns blasted and streamers flew through the air. The old year was gone, taking its rightful place in history. Champagne was held aloft to celebrate the beginning of a new and better year. The New Year arrived and with it new dreams and hopes.
Mike made a toast with Krysti to the New Year, and then he grabbed her roughly, seeking the deserved New Year’s kiss. For some reason the kiss made her feel uncomfortable. When she found the opportunity she stole away from him so she could wish one certain person a happy new year. She searched in vain, but could not find Beau. Then she did the next best thing and sought out Ruben in the midst of the mad celebration. When she located him, he was embracing and kissing Sunday. She asked, “Where can I find Beau?”
Ruben pulled away from Sunday long enough to tell her. “You’ll find him outside. He always brings in the new year watching the stars.” She started to walk away when Ruben stopped her. “Hey Krysti, you’ll have to give him the New Year’s kiss.”
“Why?” she asked, feeling warmth in her cheeks.
“Because he’s shy,” laughed Ruben. “He wouldn’t make a move on ya. Now me, I’d just grab ya and plant a big one on ya.”
“Ruben!” said Sunday. She grabbed her husband and kissed him hard and long on the lips.
Krysti continued to the seclusion and quiet of the balcony outside. True to Ruben’s words, she found Beau absorbed in the beauty of the heavens and the sparkling gulf waters. She was taken back with the spectacle. “It’s beautiful!”
Beau turned his head toward her and smiled contentedly. “Yes it is. One day I would like to go to the stars.” He took a deep breath and sighed as Krysti walked near and laid her hand on his arm. “A very peaceful feeling. I prefer to bring in the New Year out here. Gives me time to think about the old and plan for the new. Something I haven’t done in a few years.”
“Ruben told me you’d be here,” she said, admiring the stars and enjoying the tranquil night. The air was brisk and cool. Her head still danced from the champagne and she wondered why he had made no effort to give her a New Year’s kiss. “Thank you again for last night. I must say, you were wonderful with Justin.”
“I enjoyed it more than you know.” For a moment his face became serious. “As you get to know me, you may find I’m not as wonderful as you may have thought me to be.”
“I doubt it,” she said, feeling the full effects of the liquor she had drunk. She moved enticingly closer.
“I hope what you learn, you won’t hold against me.” His words were more of a plea than a statement. The past would haunt him forever and it was better she knew now, so he decided to tell her the truth about himself. The whole truth.
“Krysti, you need to know I served with—”Krysti put a finger to Beau’s lips and halted his words so they could listen. Music could be heard from the balcony. Again John Lennon’s Imagine played. Squeezing between the railing and Beau, his final statement ignored, Krysti touched her fingers to his chest and asked, “Aren’t you going to give me a New Year’s kiss?”
A gentle smile creased Beau’s face. With his left hand he touched the cross hanging from her neck. A strong gentle arm slid firmly around her waist, the other behind her head as he pulled her near. He felt the warmth of her body and the beating of her heart. His left hand rubbed her neck gently, then he slid his fingers upward into the thick, soft auburn hair. She moved closer and closer until her lips found his. He responded to her kiss. For a few brief moments, they melted into each other’s embrace and the past was forgotten.
Standing in the doorway unnoticed, Marix watched silently as the two celebrated the New Year. Mentally he made plans. Plans to get Krysti back and plans to discredit his hated new rival.