prompted her to become more pro-active in stemming the tide of moral decline she observed. She joined the State Troopers in 1996. In her new job, Lonnie discovered what it was that Marcus saw in the Marines, a life not unlike that of a trooper.
While Marcus was in England on a tour with the Royal Marines, she wrote and explained her new understanding. Her heart leaped with joy when she received his response that let her know he still loved her and looked forward to seeing her again. Marcus told her he was leaving on a peacekeeping mission to Africa. They would talk about it when he got back.
Marcus disappeared in Sierra Leone. He was reported as missing and presumed killed in action. The story was in all the papers. Local hero gives his life defending an orphanage ravaged by guerillas. While his hometown mourned the loss of Marcus Johnson, Lonnie Wyatt mourned the loss of her soul.
Jerry entered her life a month after she heard of Marcus’s death. They met in a bar and fell into a fast-moving relationship as she tried to escape the gnawing pain of her loss. Lonnie got pregnant, and a short time later, they were married with little ceremony by a justice of the peace. Jerry was no Marcus, but he was moderately handsome and was willing to take responsibility for their child.
Four months later, Lonnie learned that Marcus had escaped, and was alive. When he wrote the promised letter full of hope and vowing to keep himself for her alone, she was devastated. Lonnie wept for days. She did not tell Jerry why. He assumed it was a hormonal thing with the pregnancy.
The baby miscarried the week after receiving the letter. In time, so did the marriage. Trooper work was too demanding. Especially when the wife is the trooper and the husband works a nine-to-five cubicle job on the military base, surrounded by pretty young women feeling their first years of freedom from their parents.
Lonnie discovered that Jerry had been having an affair with a nineteen-year-old Air Force office clerk named Tonya for more than a year. The girl had been fresh at the base and only two months past her eighteenth birthday when they met. By the time they ran away together, he was thirty-five and she was still not legally allowed to drink alcohol. Jerry didn’t even bother to leave a note. Instead, Tonya text-messaged Lonnie after they had crossed the border into Canada to say that she could keep all of her soon-to-be ex-husband’s stuff.
Lonnie was glad to see him go. Jerry, as the years revealed, was a conceited, self-absorbed whiner. He was exactly nothing like Marcus, who still appeared in her dreams and walked into her thoughts at random. She was still in love with her Marine.
The sound of the frozen pavement rumbled under the tires of her cruiser as she drove down the highway toward Salt Jacket and the dreaded reunion.
“How am I going to talk to him?” she muttered to herself.
She would first check out the witnesses at the pump station on Johnson Road. The glow of the pipeline’s security lights shimmered in the distance through the tops of the spruce trees that hid the pump station buildings from view. Three massive five-ton concrete barriers were placed in a pattern twenty yards in front of the gate. Drivers were forced to zigzag through the obstacles in order to reach the gate. Moving through the barriers, she lowered the window of her cruiser. A uniformed security officer stepped from the guardhouse, an MP5 submachine gun slung around his shoulder. One hand rested on the pistol grip of the weapon as he held the other out, signaling her to stop.
“Good evening, ma’am. How can I help you?”
The guard spoke with a hint of caution in his voice as he eyed her over, peering into the cruiser as if to verify it was real.
“I’m Trooper Wyatt. I need to talk to Officer Bannock about some men he saw back at the TVEC substation a few hours ago.” She handed him her AST ID card to verify who she was.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he replied as
While Marcus was in England on a tour with the Royal Marines, she wrote and explained her new understanding. Her heart leaped with joy when she received his response that let her know he still loved her and looked forward to seeing her again. Marcus told her he was leaving on a peacekeeping mission to Africa. They would talk about it when he got back.
Marcus disappeared in Sierra Leone. He was reported as missing and presumed killed in action. The story was in all the papers. Local hero gives his life defending an orphanage ravaged by guerillas. While his hometown mourned the loss of Marcus Johnson, Lonnie Wyatt mourned the loss of her soul.
Jerry entered her life a month after she heard of Marcus’s death. They met in a bar and fell into a fast-moving relationship as she tried to escape the gnawing pain of her loss. Lonnie got pregnant, and a short time later, they were married with little ceremony by a justice of the peace. Jerry was no Marcus, but he was moderately handsome and was willing to take responsibility for their child.
Four months later, Lonnie learned that Marcus had escaped, and was alive. When he wrote the promised letter full of hope and vowing to keep himself for her alone, she was devastated. Lonnie wept for days. She did not tell Jerry why. He assumed it was a hormonal thing with the pregnancy.
The baby miscarried the week after receiving the letter. In time, so did the marriage. Trooper work was too demanding. Especially when the wife is the trooper and the husband works a nine-to-five cubicle job on the military base, surrounded by pretty young women feeling their first years of freedom from their parents.
Lonnie discovered that Jerry had been having an affair with a nineteen-year-old Air Force office clerk named Tonya for more than a year. The girl had been fresh at the base and only two months past her eighteenth birthday when they met. By the time they ran away together, he was thirty-five and she was still not legally allowed to drink alcohol. Jerry didn’t even bother to leave a note. Instead, Tonya text-messaged Lonnie after they had crossed the border into Canada to say that she could keep all of her soon-to-be ex-husband’s stuff.
Lonnie was glad to see him go. Jerry, as the years revealed, was a conceited, self-absorbed whiner. He was exactly nothing like Marcus, who still appeared in her dreams and walked into her thoughts at random. She was still in love with her Marine.
The sound of the frozen pavement rumbled under the tires of her cruiser as she drove down the highway toward Salt Jacket and the dreaded reunion.
“How am I going to talk to him?” she muttered to herself.
She would first check out the witnesses at the pump station on Johnson Road. The glow of the pipeline’s security lights shimmered in the distance through the tops of the spruce trees that hid the pump station buildings from view. Three massive five-ton concrete barriers were placed in a pattern twenty yards in front of the gate. Drivers were forced to zigzag through the obstacles in order to reach the gate. Moving through the barriers, she lowered the window of her cruiser. A uniformed security officer stepped from the guardhouse, an MP5 submachine gun slung around his shoulder. One hand rested on the pistol grip of the weapon as he held the other out, signaling her to stop.
“Good evening, ma’am. How can I help you?”
The guard spoke with a hint of caution in his voice as he eyed her over, peering into the cruiser as if to verify it was real.
“I’m Trooper Wyatt. I need to talk to Officer Bannock about some men he saw back at the TVEC substation a few hours ago.” She handed him her AST ID card to verify who she was.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he replied as
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