Divine Justice

Finally, Stone said, "Thank you for your time, sir. I plan to turn myself in to the authorities. But I wanted you to hear the story from me first. After thirty years of lies I thought it was finally time for the truth."

As Stone and the other two rose to leave, Bre

"Listen to me, Carr. You've put me in a difficult position. Probably the most agonizingly difficult spot I've ever been in, and that's saying something for a two-term president. And yet with all that, I don't think it approaches the pain that you've suffered at the hands of a country that should have known better." He paused and stood. "I tell you what I'm going to do, since I wouldn't even be alive now and this country would be in the middle of a disastrous war but for your efforts, I'm going to take this under advisement. I don't want you mentioning this to anyone, much less turning yourself in. Do you understand me?"

Stone looked at Alex and then Knox and then back at the president. "Are you sure, sir?"

"No, I'm not sure," he snapped. "But that's the way it's going to be. I don't condone vigilantism. Never have and never will. But I also have a heart and a soul, and a sense of honor and decency despite what some of my political opponents claim. So until you hear from me you are to do nothing except carry on with your life. Understood? I know you're no longer technically in the military, but I am still the leader of this country. And you will obey that order."

"Yes, sir," said an obviously surprised Stone.

As they turned to leave Bre

As they closed the door behind them, both Knox and Alex exhaled in relief.

"Holy shit, do I need a drink," said Knox. "Come on, I'm buying."

CHAPTER 83

OLIVER STONE OPENED the gates to Mt. Zion Cemetery and walked up to his cottage. The front door was unlocked, and when he went in he saw that the changes A

He sat down behind his desk and ran his hand over the old wood, squeaked back in the chair and gazed over at his wall of beloved books. He made a cup of coffee and carried a mug with him as he explored the grounds of the cemetery, noting where work needed to be done that he would get to the next day. He was once more the official caretaker of hallowed ground. It was where he belonged.

That evening, the others came by to see him. He hugged Reuben, Caleb and A

As Knox and Stone sat in front of the fireplace, Alex and A

"Why did you really come to help us?" she said suddenly.

"Friends don't let friends die by stupidity."

"Gee, thanks."

He drew closer to her. "Well, actually, I did it because it occurred to me that we had left things on the wrong foot. And I wanted to tell you that despite all the mean, nasty things you said about me, I'd still like to hang out with you on occasion."

"Oh, is that right?"

"That's pretty right, yeah."

"Is that the best 'please come back to me' line Secret Service agents are taught?"

"We're more the strong and silent types."

A

"Let's just start over and see where it goes."

Reuben, who was watching all this from the other side of the room along with Caleb, said, "Oh, man, I'm going to puke."

Caleb replied, "Don't be jealous, Reuben. He's younger and much better-looking than you are. And besides, I don't have anyone either. I'm as big a loser in the female department as you are. I hope that makes you feel better."

Reuben drank down his entire beer and stalked off muttering.

Everyone looked over when Alex's cell phone began to ring. He answered it.

"Hello? What?" He suddenly snapped to attention and almost dropped his beer. "Yes, sir. Absolutely, sir. I'll make sure he's there. You can count on it, sir."

He clicked off and looked at the others in complete astonishment.

Knox said, "Who was that? Not the president?"

Alex slowly shook his head and walked over to Stone and put a hand on his shoulder. "That was the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff."

"What?" Reuben exclaimed, his features growing pale. "What the hell did he want? You know, technically, I'm not AWOL. It was a misunderstanding."

"He called about you, Oliver," said Alex.

Stone looked up at him. "What about me?"

"We're taking another trip to the White House. Tomorrow."

"What? Why?"

Alex smiled. "Something about a medal, my friend. A long-overdue one. The top brass reviewed your war record, made the recommendation and the president immediately accepted it."

Reuben roared, "That's fantastic." He slapped Stone on the back as the others crowded around him, offering their congratulations.

When things quieted Stone said, "Alex, will you please call them back and tell them I appreciate the gesture but I can't accept it."

"What!" exclaimed a stricken Reuben.

Alex added, "Oliver, no one turns down the Medal of Honor. No one. Hell, a lot of soldiers who get it are dead."

"I'm not turning it down. That would be a dishonor to everyone who earned it. But I just want them to withdraw the offer. They made a mistake."

"Mistake, hell. You earned it," Fi

"Maybe I did deserve it. Back then. And back then I would have accepted it. But I don't deserve it now. And for me to take it would dishonor the memory of every soldier who was awarded it."

A

"I already am a part of American history, A

"But you were just following orders," said Alex.

"Sheep follow blindly. We're not supposed to be sheep."

Caleb went over to Stone and put a hand on his shoulder. "I never served in the military, so I can't really speak to any of that. But I do want to say one thing. I was very proud of you when they offered you the medal. But I think I'm even prouder of you for not accepting it."

After they all left, saying they would be back soon, Stone took the box out that he had kept the recording in. It also contained two other items.

He looked first at the photo of his baby daughter, Beth, who had grown up and then died never knowing that he was her father. Then he turned to the other faded picture.

In this image his wife Claire was suspended forever as a young wife and mother. In his mind every day it was Claire Carr who kept him going. In that prison while Tyree and his men were brutalizing him it had been her memory to which he'd clung.

He could never part with that image because in a visceral way it was the only shred of identity he had left. It was the one memory that kept alive the spirit of a young soldier, husband and father named John Carr. Not the assassin, not the killer. Just him, or who he used to be.