Hauser grinned, "I'll fly rings around anyone, sir. Me and number one here."
Shep paused as the tickle of a sneeze built…built…and released in a messy expulsion safely covered by a quickly drawn handkerchief. "Bless you." "Thanks. Anyway, good. Let's high-tail it." "I understand you're catching a military flight out of Philly. That still the plan, sir?"
Shep thought about that. He thought about Ashley whispering a request to meet with Nina Forest. Now what could that be about? Still, no loyal follower of Trevor Stone could ignore a request from Ashley. Hell, even without Trevor, Shep figured few folks could resist Miss Ashley; she had a dignified way about her. Royalty, in fact. "Get me a radio so I can assign you to me lickity split, then you won't have to worry about orders from anyone but me." "Sounds like you've got something in mind. A little side trip?" Shep figured Nina, like Hauser, waited in Annapolis with nothing but time on her hands. "Yeah, a little side trip." — Ashley had fallen in love with the stucco, contemporary beach house along the Wildwood, New Jersey shore the first time Trevor brought her there. That had been five years ago, back when their relationship had been cold but, at least, there had been a 'relationship.'
Every summer they spent at least two weeks there. JB loved the boardwalk with its amusement rides, cheesy games of chance, and the yellow Tram Car with its recorded voice constantly warning, "Watch the Tram Car, please." Of course, half the rides did not run and the summer vacation season brought a few thousand-not hundreds of thousands-of visitors each year. Even during the heart of summer the resort town felt more like a ghost town.
Still, Trevor would jog the quarter-mile-wide beach with Tyr at his side and they would spend nights cooking flounder in lemon juice or scallops with butter and garlic.
As for Ashley, she enjoyed the ambiance of the place. She could lose herself in a good book out on the deck or just lay in bed watching the ceiling fan spin while listening to the distant, repeating drone of white caps breaking on the sand.
Those summer weeks were the only times when-for a few days-she could convince herself they were a normal family. This trip felt much different.
Tucker and his security team ushered Ashley, JB and Grandpa away from the estate on Thursday, June 19 ^ th, the day after a gas explosion turned Gordon Knox's private residence into a pile of embers. Everyone assumed Gordon to be dead, the result of an accident that-according to a statement from President Godfrey-"could not come at a worse time for our nation."
A constant drizzle kept Ashley and her son inside that first night. JB spent the evening glued to a second floor window gazing south toward the boardwalk. From his room he saw the lights of a huge Ferris wheel and the rolling humps of a rollercoaster. The echo of voices and rumble of rides joined the constant in-rush of the ocean creating a melody of summer sounds that wrapped around the boy and his mother like a comfortable blanket of feelings and memories.
Clouds remained on the second day. Ashley took JB (and their security detail) to the distribution center for food and supplies. Mundane tasks often provided an illusion of normalcy.
On Saturday a warm front pushed off the dreary weather and brought sunshine to the shore. The two spent most of the day on the beach. An influx of jellyfish captured JB's attention.
On Sunday, JB got his chance to visit the boardwalk. Tucker managed to get Morey's Pier sealed off for two hours, making Ashley, JB, the security team, and a flock of seagulls the only souls on the big wharf full of rides and games. JB loved it, but to Ashley it felt sad, especially with the scent of fresh roasted peanuts and scraps of napkins and discarded tickets drifting among the amusements and kiosks.
She took him round and round the carousel, and on the kiddy train, and watched him zip up and down in a miniature airplane. Her son enjoyed the rides, but not in the same way other children might. From the saddle on the merry-go-round, JB shouted fantasies of riding with the cavalry. On the train he imagined himself escorting a supply convoy to isolated colonies out west. From the cockpit of the mini plane he shot Hivvan Screamers from the sky.
Near the end of their day, mom and son entered a fun house. Once inside they moved along a passage through a slowly-turning tube that played havoc with their sense of up and down. They wobbled across a rope-bridge above paper alligators in a phony river made from blue streamers. Further along, crazy inflatable clowns burst from barrels with synthesized chuckles.
Near the end of the attraction they came to a hall of mirrors that absolutely fascinated Jorge. He ran to one in particular that warped his already small body even smaller, as if he were a soda can crunched at both ends. "Look at this one, mommy! It makes me look smaller than I really am!" Ashley smiled but movement from behind another mirror grabbed her attention. "General Shepherd said you asked to see me."
Standing in the shadowy hall of mirrors was a woman who could easily have passed for her early twenties but Ashley knew her true age to be over thirty. She had sharp blue eyes and blonde hair with wavy curls that, for some inconceivable reason, was pulled tight into a pony tail that drooped between her shoulder blades.
"Nina Forest," Ashley said almost certainly too loud; voices echoed in the fun house.
The two women stood silent for a moment, listening for any sounds of suspicion from the I.S. team waiting outside. When nothing happened, Ashley walked closer to the soldier while Jorge bounced about the hall of mirrors giggling at how the glass stretched, flattened, or otherwise warped his image.
Nina wore green camouflage BDU pants and a black t-shirt. She did not have a rifle but did carry a sword strapped tight to one leg and a pistol on a thigh rig along the other.
Ashley did not recall if she ever met Nina Forest in person before. Perhaps she had, back in the early days after Ashley had been pulled from her ark ride. However, she had seen this woman before in photographs taken during the time that Ashley had been thought dead; a time when Trevor had fallen in love with this woman.
In a sense, Ashley realized they shared one thing in common; both women had lost a year of their lives. The difference being that Ashley's year passed in the blink of an eye, but Nina lived those months, only to have the memories stolen by an alien implant.
"I've heard a lot about you," Ashley told Nina the truth. "You are highly regarded."
Nina, her eyes wandering around the chamber, said, "I am very sorry for your loss. I mean, I feel badly for you and your son. It must be very hard for you."
Ashley wondered how hard Trevor's death hit Nina. Were the memories and feelings truly gone, or merely suppressed? How had she taken the news of the assassination? "I think it has been hard on all of us, but thank you for your concern." "Mrs. Stone-" "Ashley."
"Ashley, whatever you need from me, I'll do my best. I like to think that Trev-your husband-could count on me. That is, to get the job done."
Ashley saw that the poor girl felt uneasy. The hardened warrior fidgeted and stumbled with her words. Was it possible that Captain Forest had grown fond of Trevor from a distance? What would it do to her now to find out about the year she had shared with Trevor?
Ashley told her, "Yes, Trevor counted on you. He needs to count on you one more time."
"Mommy!" Jorge raced over to another mirror. "This one makes me look really funny!"
Ashley pulled a slip of paper from the pocket of her blue khakis. She handed it to Forest, who read the words printed on the ticket. "A voucher? For the Orange Bowl in Miami?" "You'll need Gordon Knox's help." Nina's brow furled. "The Director of Intelligence? He died in a fire a couple of days ago."