The Wolf and the Moon

This story is part of an ongoing series.

The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography.

Feedback and

constructive

criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racism, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

There may or may not be discussion of political issues in my stories. If you are a Snowflake that feels you need to be protected from any mention of politics, then click the Back button now, and never attempt to read any of my stories ever again. You've been warned.

***

Dedicated to all of America's Special Forces.

Part 1 - Prologue

(

Author's note: For the story of the Captain (Teresa's father), Corpsman Cordell, and the rest of his team rescuing the Green Berets, please read the relevant passages in 'Politics and Prejudice' Ch. 02 (Epilogue); 'Along Came A Spider', Ch. 03; 'Along Came A Spider', Ch. 04; 'A Tiny Slip', Ch. 03; and 'A Tiny Slip', Ch. 04.

)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Decades in the past...

"We're going to miss you, Wilkins." said the Captain. "You've done a great job here. Taught my guys a lot."

"I hate to leave you guys, sir." replied Staff Sergeant Wilkins. "But I need to get back to 5th Group. They could use my help on their next mission." He meant the 5th Special Forces Group of the legendary Green Berets, who were operating in Viet Nam.

"I understand." said the Captain. "Listen, if you need help, if you need an extraction, just let us know and we'll come get you."

"Thank you, sir," said Wilkins, "but we're going to be on the other side of politically drawn lines. They'll probably order you to stand down."

"And those orders will be ignored." said the Captain. After a pause, he said "If I don't see you around here, I'll see you when we get back home." He extended his hand, and the Sergeant shook it, then saluted, and the Captain returned the salute.

"Take care of this man, Corpsman." Wilkins said as he shook hands with Navy Corpsman Leonard R. Cordell, who was attached to the unit as their medic. "Sometimes he's a little

too

brave for his own good."

"I'll do what I can. Good luck, Sergeant." Cordell replied. He and the Captain watched as Sergeant Wilkins moved out smartly to one of the waiting helicopters and boarded it.

As the choppers took off, Cordell said "You're from the same hometown as Wilkins, sir?"

"Yeah." the Captain said. "Sarah and I moved there after we eloped. Wilkins grew up there, and his family is still there. His sister just got hired as a school teacher."

"He's with 5th Group, sir?" Cordell asked. "How'd we get him?"

The Captain said "He came down with some sort of jungle fever just before his unit went out on their last mission. When he recovered, he asked if he could be attached to us until his unit got back, and I snapped him up, just like I snapped you up as our Medic when I had the chance..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Still in the past. Somewhere on the other side of a politically drawn line...

Normally Army Rangers did Long Range Reconnaissance Patrols (LRRP), but this Green Beret A-Team had several missions requiring the very best that America's military had to offer. They were ordered to gather intelligence on Enemy positions and movements, and relay the information back via AN/TRC-77 carrier-wave radio at specified times. The mission was critical, as MACV-SOG in Saigon was deeply concerned that the Enemy was transporting troops and equipment via a certain road to set up an invasion of South Vietnam's flank.

But information had also been gleaned that a high ranking Enemy Officer, possibly a General, wanted to defect and be extracted. He was at a small command compound inside a country that was supposed to be neutral; ergo, the orders were to not engage any Enemy troops unless discovered first, and it was all but made clear that the Team would be receiving no help if things went to hell in a handbasket.

The A-team reconnoitered along a supposedly well-used road through the jungle, but after 48 hours they had seen no military traffic at all, and very little civilian traffic. Then they made their way towards the compound, again encountering no traffic at all. When they arrived, they found the compound to be intact and in good condition, with some tire tracks that indicated it had been used within the last week or so. But it was empty, totally abandoned.

"Something's wrong." Staff Sergeant Wilkins whispered to the battlefield-commissioned Lieutenant that was in command of the Team. "It looks abandoned. If there is a buildup for an incursion, there should be at least

-some-

activity."

The leader said "And there's something more. I was told by the Brass that the high-value defector we're supposed to extract was supposed to be

here

... and he was supposed to be here

now

. Go get with the radio operator and transmit the phrase 'eternal night' in the clear on this frequency." He gave Wilkins the frequency.

Wilkins low-crawled over to the radio operator, who was isolating himself from the rest of the team. It was well-known that in a firefight, radio operators's life expectancy was five (5) seconds. They also were the targets of mortar fire, to kill the leader and anyone else near the radio operator. Wilkins gave the instruction and the radioman sent out the message.

When he got back to the leader, the leader said "If our extract is in the area, he should be here within the hour, if they're monitoring the frequency. If not, we'll set up a perimeter nearby, and when it starts getting dark you can lead a couple of guys in there to check it out."

Wilkins said "We need to do that during daylight hours. If they've booby-trapped the place with fishing line or something, we can't see that in the dark."

"Why would they booby-trap their own command compound?" the Lieutenant said.

"My point exactly, sir." Wilkins replied.

The Lieutenant caught on. "You think it's a trap?"

"Sure looks like it, sir." Wilkins said.

"You know... you might be right." said the leader. "I was told there was a clearing for a chopper to come in and take him out. But we are under a thick canopy with no clear spots in sight, much less an LZ." After a moment, he said "Where is the nearest high ground?"

"There's a hill about half a mile behind the compound here, due south." Wilkins said. "And enough of a clearing for three choppers about 400 yards south of that."

"Get everyone ready." said the leader. "If our extract doesn't show up within the hour, we're going to move to the high ground. Get everyone ready to go on my signal." Wilkins moved out smartly to complete that mission.

It was only ten minutes later when the warning came. The outpost man overwatching the road radioed back that a convoy of military vehicles was on the way... loaded with heavily armed Viet Cong. The A-team quickly moved out to the high ground...

...and just in time. More Viet Cong popped out of hidden positions in the jungle, in several groups. They encircled the Green Berets, and began their assault!

As the battle began to rage, Sergeant Wilkins crawled up to the radio man, and took his radio from him. Wilkins crawled to the highest point of the high ground, put the radio on the frequency he knew his Captain in the 173d Brigade would be monitoring, and sent out the emergency radio call for help.

And he paid the price for it. The ultimate price.

He barely felt the bullets that drilled through his back. He was barely aware of being dragged back down the hill to better cover, and the Medic working on his wounds. It seemed that the sun got brighter in the sky... and then he heard the sound of choppers.

The signal got through! he thought to himself. We're saved! My Captain kept his promise, and he's coming for us...

He was right: the message got through. The Captain disobeyed orders, and led his team to rescue the Green Berets. And all of them would be saved, except one man... Sergeant Wilkins himself.

He looked up to see the silhouette of a helicopter coming down, as if it was about to land right on him. He could not have known that the rescue team was not there yet; they were just getting off the ground. The shadowy chopper in the Light that Sergeant Wilkins was seeing was coming for him. It was coming to take him Home...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Back in present time...

10:00pm, Sunday, April 10th. Carrying the Redoubtable Bowser, I came into the hospital room of nine-year-old David Davenport. He and his sister had been life-flighted by Teresa Croyle to University Hospital for treatment of the rare disease afflicting both of them. (

Author's note: 'Teresa's Christmas Miracle'.

)

David's sister Diane was almost completely cured, but the treatments had not been as effective with him. He'd already been in much worse shape than her, and he was now dying. The end was expected soon. I had been called by Father Romano, who said that David was lamenting that he had failed because he was not going to live. I volunteered to bring Bowser to redirect the boy's suppositions.

Also in the room were retired Admiral Leonard R. Cordell and David's father, Major General Spencer Davenport. The General's face looked ragged and exhausted, not knowing what to do as he watched his son dying before his eyes.

I nodded hello to them, then brought Bowser to David's bedside. The boy opened his eyes and said "Wowww, the Iron Crowbar... you came to see me?"

"Yes. And I brought Bowser to see you, too." I said as I put Bowser on the bed by the boy's right arm. "I heard you were saying some nonsense about having failed. Bowser wants you to stop thinking things like that. And he wants you to pet him." As I spoke, Bowser poked his nose at David's hand, and the boy raised his hand and began petting Bowser.

"I'm not going to make it, sir." David whispered. "I

have

failed. I've let my dad and mom and my sister down."

"No." I said, trying to put the correct amounts of sternness and compassion in my voice. "You have not failed. Your life has always been in the Hands of God, and so is your death. And you've fought hard to live, and you've helped the doctors with their research on your illness. They've learned from it, and they'll be able to make new and better cures. Would it be okay if I tell you one story?"

"Sure." David said weakly as he continued to give Bowser skritchins. It would be difficult to know who was getting more out of that.

I said "A long time ago, during the Vietnam War, there was a man named Wilkins. Sergeant Wilkins. He was part of a Green Beret team, and they were on a secret mission behind Enemy lines. His team was ambushed, and he was shot as he radioed for help. The help came, as a team from the 173d Airborne Brigade went to save them, and they did save them. Sergeant Wilkins was the only man that died."

Admiral Cordell's eyes were wide with shock as he listened to my recitation. Little David looked spellbound as I continued: "Sergeant Wilkins died...

but he did not fail.

He gave his life, but his sacrifice saved other lives. And just like Sergeant Wilkins, David, you have not failed."

I took my red crowbar and put it on top of David's abdomen, and led his left hand to grip it. I said "The only way to fail is to quit. And Bowser and I both know you're not going to quit. So you hold on to that crowbar, and don't ever quit. Keep fighting to live. You're helping others as well as yourself, every single moment that you live."

I picked Bowser up, leaving the crowbar in David's hands. I said "I'll come back to check up on you tomorrow."

"Thank you, Mr. Crowbar." David said, his voice barely above a whisper. I took Bowser out of the room into the hallway, and Admiral Cordell and General Davenport followed.

"Was that story true?" General Davenport asked as he gave Bowser skritchins.

"Yes." said Admiral Cordell. "I was the Corpsman attached to the unit that went and got those Green Berets. Wilkins was the only fatality, and we brought his body out with the rest of the teams. He's buried at Arlington."

Cordell turned to me and said "I remember you asking me about Wilkins when I went to the Captain's grave. You must've researched the story."

"Yes sir, I did." I said. "I looked into all of it, as part of Teresa's story, with Alison McFarland's help." I turned to General Davenport and said "The Captain that led the rescue mission was wounded, but he recovered... and became the father of Teresa Croyle, who flew the life-flight mission that brought your children here."

"And it's Teresa's Trust paying for the research." added Cordell.

"Research that saved my daughter's life." said General Davenport. "Small world, gentlemen. Small world. Commander Troy, I appreciate you coming in with your dog, and saying what you said to David. I think it did him a lot of good. I just don't want him to feel ashamed when he..." He did not finish the sentence.

"I hope I helped." I said. "I'll see you tomorrow..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

6:30am, Monday, April 11th. I was sitting in my office, going over the weekend's duty logs when I looked up and through the open office door into the anteroom. Coming in from the hallway were two men.

"Oh, noooo..." I whispered as I saw who they were: Admiral Cordell, in his dark blue Navy uniform; and Major General Davenport, in his brown Army uniform. The General was carrying my red crowbar, and the look on his face was the most profoundly sad that one could possibly see.

I stood up as they came in. Admiral Cordell just shook his head. I said "I'm sorry, General. When?"

"About an hour and a half ago." said General Davenport, his voice almost breaking. He extended the red crowbar across the desk to me. "I just came by to return this. I want to thank you again for coming by and talking to him. My son... my boy fought hard to live. He held on to that crowbar until... " He faltered, then finished: "They had to pry it out of his fingers after he died."

The General was trying hard to keep his composure. I said "Would you like to talk to one of our Chaplains?"

"Thank you, but no." he said. "Your Chaplain Romano was very helpful to all of us these last few weeks. He was with us when David died."

After a moment, he said "Well, I need to be going. Oh... I see you have a collection of coins." He was looking at the little tray on my desk with the Challenge Coins I'd been given over the years. He reached into his pocket and brought out two General's coins, and handed one of them to me, then said "If Commander Croyle is here, I'd like to speak to her, and thank her for all she's done." he said.

"I'll take him to her." offered Admiral Cordell.

"General, would you like to keep this?" I asked, holding up the crowbar.

"No, that's okay." said the General. "Keep it, and keep inspiring others with it." With that, he shook my hand and left, escorted by Admiral Cordell. I sat down at my desk and got a piece of blue ribbon out of a drawer of my desk, which I kept for gifts. I tied it onto the crowbar, then put that crowbar into my office safe, next to the pink-foil-wrapped crowbar and the lead-foil-wrapped crowbar. Like them, this crowbar would be a gift for a day in the far-flung future.

A few moments later Teresa came to my office. "He is hurting so badly." Teresa said, near to crying herself.

"Everyone did all they could." I said. "Especially you."

I saw and felt the emotion building up inside of her. "Dammit!" she finally exploded. I hate losing even one of those kids!" That was my cue to get up and walk around my desk, and take Teresa into my arms in a hug.

"So do I." I said as she began crying. "And one day... maybe the dream will be reality." I said.

Teresa got hold of herself and our hug broke up. She said "Thank you for talking to David, and for not letting him quit. I think

that

meant as much to his father as anything."

"Yeah." I said sadly. "And I really had no idea what to say to David's dad. I don't know how it feels, to lose one of my children."

"And I hope neither you nor I ever find out." Teresa replied. We got our coffee mugs and headed to the coffee klatch in the Chief's Conference Room...

Part 2 - All The News Not Fit To Print

"This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" shouted the redheaded MILF reporterette at 7:00am, Monday, April 18th, from the anchor desk of the KXTC studios. "Federal Agencies take over the Luna-Huntington case!"

After the hard-charging intro music, Bettina began: "After multiple failures by Town & County Police Commander Donald Troy and the TCPD, the US DEA and the Federal Marshals Service have taken over the case of the deaths of Randy Luna and Rhonda Huntington. Let's go to

trusted

reporter Amber Harris for more. Amber!"

"

That's right,

Bettina!" said the athletic, height-challenged, blonde reporterette, from the roof of the building at the corner of Riverside and College, with the Federal Building across Courthouse Square as her backdrop. "Rhonda Huntington was arrested for several petty crimes involving witnessing the murders of Sarah Sandstone and Geoff Gerard. Murder charges against Randy Luna were thrown out by

enlightened

Appellate Judge Leahy after Commander Troy wrongly and illegally obtained an arrest warrant for him."

Amber: "The bodies of Rhonda Huntington and Randy Luna were found across the State Line at the end of last month. U.S. Marshals had become involved when Ms. Huntington jumped bail and disappeared, and the US DEA became involved when drugs believed to have been in possession of Ms. Sandstone and Mr. Gerard were found in Ms. Huntington's apartment."

Amber: "Marquis Swift, a.k.a. 'Checkers', is being sought by the DEA and SBI for drug-related charges, and a reward for information leading to his arrest has been offered, provided that the information is provided directly to the DEA or SBI, and

not

through

local

law enforcement agencies. DEA Special Agent in Charge Dwight Stevens said the DEA believes the deaths of Mr. Luna and Ms. Huntington are drug related, but declined to say if Mr. Swift was a suspect in their deaths. Back to you, Bettina!"

"Thank you, Amber!" Bettina shouted as the feed returned to her. "That was

trusted

reporter Amber Harris with that relevant story. And now let's go to

highly respected

political reporter Carl Lemay, with important information. Carl!"

"

That's right,

Bettina!" said the lanky Reporter of Color, from the same rooftop that Amber was reporting from, but with City Hall in his background. "Channel Two News has learned that the NEA, the powerful Teacher's Union, has strongly endorsed Town Assemblywoman Cori Bowman for the position of School Board Chairman."

Lemay: "Assemblywoman Bowman is in a battle with schoolteacher and former Charter Commission member Edna Carter for the Democrat nomination in the May 3rd primary election. Political

experts

believe that the influential endorsement of the powerful Teacher's Union will be an important aid to Ms. Bowman's path to victory. Back to you, Bettina!"

"Thank you, Carl!" said Bettina. "That was

highly respected

reporter Carl Lemay with that important information for the Voters of the County." Then the enthusiasm in her voice dropped considerably as she said "And now let's go to reporter Pat Stellum for more on the lawsuits between the University and the newly formed State Medical College. Pat!"