“Thank you for your opening statement, Deputy Burns,” the Senator leaned forward in his seat, and turned his head to the left, “We’ll, ah, we’ll ensure your opening statement makes it into the record.”
The television cameras were all on in the room, and the murmuring in the rear of the room was heard as political junkies, reporters and tourists looked on, but it was not disturbing. Nearly anyone with an internet connection could watch the hearings live, too, or look up the schedule in the Washington Times to attend in person. There was no question that this was live theatrics, and if you were sitting at the witness table, you had to be ready for anything. You had to be ready to perform, and Calvin Burns knew the game.
“Ahh, Mr. Burns, I’ll open up today’s questions for the Committee,” as he covered the microphone with his hand, and spoke to another young, college aged girl on his staff, for one last clarification on a separate, upcoming vote.
The Deputy took a drink of water, then turned his head to the right again to look at the Senator from Vermont, Senator Tim Ricks.
“Thank you, again, Mr. Burns. I usually would open up a session today with something related to the great state of Vermont. As you know, our Air National Guard has contributed to these wars for many years, and made great strides fighting terrorism with our proud 158th Fighter Wing. I sure do love vising home, meeting our brave men and women working and flying the F-16’s from Burlington. But something has come to my attention this afternoon that I would like to ask you about. Something very interesting.”
Never miss a moment to praise constituents from the home state.
“Yes, Senator. I am familiar with the 158th and their mission,” replied Deputy Burns, as Jason shifted the weight in his seat and curious where the Senator was going.
“It has been presented to me that you had a significant meeting this morning in your auditorium. You met with your folks?”
All eyes in the room were upon him, and the red light on the two camera were illuminated and pointing in his direction. Out of the corner of his eye, another two Senators sat down with their assistants.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Calvin Burns immediately wondering two things. What is he talking about the auditorium meeting for, and why would he be bringing it up here and now?
The nurse fumbled around for a bit more, then read the patient’s name out loud. “Lee, Wu. Age twenty-nine.”
“Okay, thank you. Mr. Wu… Lee.”
The doctor came back into the room, along with the nurse, and sat down with Wu. He pulled up the screens, and Wu was eager to see to see what the diagnosis was, if anything.
“Hello Doctor. How did the results look?” asked Wu.
About five seconds of silence passed, and only electric fans embedded in the ceiling could be heard.
“Mr. Lee, I’m sorry. What I am going to tell you will come as a shock. You have cancer,” the doctor told him, and hesitated before saying anything else so that it could be comprehended. “The cancer most likely began in your pancreas, and it has, unfortunately, spread throughout your body. It is very hard to detect the cancer there, and grows undetected in the human body until it is too late to do much, if anything about it. It seems that is the case with your cancer. Pancreatic cancer… is very difficult to detect.”
“Cancer? Me? I have cancer? Me?”
“Mr. Lee, yes, I’m sorry to share with you this news. Cancer. It will only be a few weeks more before the pain from your stomach area where your pancreas is located will really begin to have some intense pain. You will feel nauseous most of the time, and throw-up often. Holding down food will be an issue, and you’ll drop more weight than you said you have lost already,” the doctor shared.
“Cancer. Cancer? Cancer? Wow,” Wu said stoically, but the emotionless man began tearing up as the reality of the situation set in.
“You may have two or three months remaining with your terminal cancer, Mr. Lee. We can make you feel comfortable and have dignity.”
The doctor and nurse had an excellent bedside manner, and talked with Wu for over an hour. It was important to them to give him the best quality care they could, considering the situation. The nurse wrote most of the information down on some documents, intended to be scanned and sent to Wu as attachments for reference.
Wu was in tears now, crying, but not sobbing uncontrollably. “I wanted to get married. I wanted to have children,” wiping his nose in a tissue. “What? Are you sure? Me? Me?”
“Yes, we understand, Mr. Lee. I know this comes as true shock. There were two other doctors besides myself that reviewed the scans and blood work. No mistakes about it as the evidence is pretty clear. Again, I am sorry,” replied the doctor.
“Is there anyone we can call for you?” asked the nurse.
Wu thought about it, and there really wasn’t. He was an only child, and his mother passed away three years ago. Wu’s father died when he was a small boy, and, he lived alone. Wu lived the pilot’s lifestyle, had plenty of girlfriends over the years, but just never settled down with anyone. He always thought he had plenty of time for that.
“No, no, there is no one here. Local that is. I do have some very close friends that I consider family members, but they do not live close,” Wu answered, thinking of Ford Stevens, and the Stevens family in America. “I… I will ask them to take care of me. Thank you.”
Wu walked outside the hospital with his paperwork in hand, discharged, and never felt lonelier than this very moment. It was the loneliest he ever felt in his life. More tears strolled down his cheek, and he stood on the busy sidewalk with his arms folded, just looking at the people, all going about their business.
He took out his phone, saw the text from Ford, and replied back.
Ford: Let’s talk soon
The U.S. Air Force RC-135 RIVET JOINT surveillance aircraft out of Kadena, Okinawa, Japan was flying in a holding pattern at 41,000 feet in left hand turns along a 010 and 190 degree path. Using the callsign “ROCK 23”, her technicians and operators in the rear, all wearing flight suits, were working electronic warfare gear to listen and collect adversary radar signatures, pin point exact locations of transmissions, aircraft frequency use, GPS communications, and computer transmissions, and were enormously busy. The array of antennas attached to the fuselage and wings was overwhelming to the untrained eye, as they popped out wherever you looked. If something was transmitting in the electromagnetic spectrum, they could find it.
“Center, ROCK 23, request,” the pilot asked on the VHF frequency that controlled the airspace between North Korea and China.
“Go ahead with your request, ROCK,” replied the center controller.
“Any chance we can extend our legs today. Looking for another 10 miles or so to the north on A-326, just past intersection MUDAL.”