The Colonel's Daughter (12 page)

The smell of freshly brewed coffee had already made its way into the room. She decided to freshen up and go downstairs to the community kitchen. As Abby tried to exit, the female soldier took a step directly in her path.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you out of this room.”

“You have got to be kidding me. My father is a Colonel in the United States Army and I’m being treated like a prisoner?” Abby retorted.

“You’re not a prisoner ma’am. The General is just looking out for your protection. I have strict orders only to release you to Lieutenant Star. I’m sure he will be here soon.”

Abby clenched her fists and returned to the bedroom. She grabbed the remote and turned on the television. Bending her body to a downward dog pose, then an upward dog, then warrior one, she worked on her yoga routine in an attempt to release her frustration.

As Abby continued to exercise, the anchorman on the news made an announcement. “Police are baffled by what they found floating in Biscayne Bay off of Miami Beach, Florida early this morning. It was the body of a woman, who is said to have been the wife of one of the biggest players in a Miami drug smuggling operation. Thirty-six year old Caroline Sidorov was said to have gone missing from her Fisher Island home in Miami Beach less than a week ago.”

Abby’s jaw dropped. She stood with both hands on her hips catching her breath. Just then, Dallas knocked on the door. He walked in and tossed some bags on the bed.

“I bought some stuff I thought you might need.”

“Like what?”

“I have a mom and two sisters. I’ve been sent to the store with a list of girly things before.” Dallas folded his muscled arms and leaned against the doorframe.

There had been a time when a young Dallas was showered with suffocating attention by his mother and sisters, but after several tours in Afghanistan, he no longer had just theoretical knowledge but had gained field and life experience. He became a different person to them and as time passed, there was a definite schism and they blamed him for distancing himself from them.

Abby sat at the edge of the bed and rummaged through the bags. “Not bad,” she said holding up a bottle of shampoo.

“I have a surprise for you.” Dallas said.

“What? I get to leave this prison?” She snapped.

“You know what Abby?” His nostrils flared. “If that’s how you feel, then leave right now.” He swung the door and held it open.

“Oh sure, so I can get detained on my way out and then I can get interrogated all over again. No thanks.”

“The General told you last night. You can cooperate with him or you’ll eventually be answering to some very bad people, the people who have your father.” He gave the door a quick tap. “Ya know what, you’re free to go. I won’t try to stop you.”

She buried her face in her hands.

“What’s the matter now?” He shut the door.

“Did you see the news? They found the woman from Fisher Island, the one that Maurice’s men kidnapped. Her body was found floating in Biscayne Bay. It’s my fault, I asked for this.” She sobbed.

He sat next to her on the bed placing a hand under her chin. “How is any of that your fault?”

“I told my father so many times that I wanted to be just like him. I pretended I could be a tough warrior always offering to help him. I wanted so much to be a part of his missions. All I really wanted was his attention.” Her voice quivered.

“So your father just gave you your very own mission. This is your time to show him that you are that tough warrior. Yeah, you’re a little scared. Being brave is not lacking fear. You just need to focus on the mission.” He smoothed away her tears with the sides of his thumbs. “I promised your father that I would protect you. I’m not leaving your side.”

“Thank you.” She sniffled, her puffy eyes smeared with what was left of her black eyeliner.

He kissed her forehead. “Go get cleaned up. I’m taking you somewhere. It’s a surprise.”

“Does the General know?” She headed to the bathroom.

“Of course, I got permission.” He smirked.

A couple of hours later while on the road going up I-35 past San Antonio and Austin, Abby looked up from her sketched drawing to finally ask, “Where the heck are we going?”

Dallas, who had been chewing on some bubble gum, put an elbow over the opened driver’s window, “I told you, it’s a surprise.”

“Can we at least stop for some coffee?”

“Sure. You want one of those girly…what do you call them?” With a high pitched raspy voice, “Latte macchiato?”

“Hey those are not girly. You should try one…especially the caramel macchiato…mmm…delicious.”

“No thanks, I’ll stick to my tactical chewing gum.”

She cocked her head, “Your what?”

“My caffeinated gum, its cinnamon flavored.” He opened his mouth. “It beats chewing coffee grounds. I used to chew on those a lot.”

“Yuck! My dad used to do that all the time.”

Dallas laughed and continued to chew.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m just picturing the Colonel chewing on coffee grounds in the middle of the night yelling at the platoon.” His voice deepened imitating the Colonel, “Dagnabbit you bunch of momma’s boys…hey son, why don’t you get your act together and start diggin’ a real fuckin’ hole, just like the one—”

“That’s not funny, Dallas.” She scowled with a firm stare. “My father is being tortured right now…if he’s not already dead.”

Noticing a road sign for a coffee house along the highway, he veered towards the exit. “I’m sorry I was just having a little fun.”

“Well it’s not funny.”

He remained silent.

Abby continued, “And don’t think I’m falling for this surprise date thing we’re having,” she waved her hands, “Or whatever this is. I’m sure that the only reason the General let you take me this far away is because you convinced him you would somehow get the codes from me.” Her arms crossed held the sketchbook tight against her chest.

He parked the car, slammed his car door then trotted around the front to let her out. As she stormed out of her seat, he took hold of her arm. “You’re right, I told the General I would find the codes and I’ll probably have some explaining to do when I come back but that’s not the only reason why I brought you out here.” He released her arm. “If you don’t trust me, then we’ve got nothing.”

She nodded letting him know she heard his words, but whether she listened to them and agreed, she left unspoken, as they both walked into the air-conditioned coffeehouse. A portly middle-aged matriarch who knew all the regular visitors by name offered Dallas a cordial welcome. “Oh, I just love a man in uniform. Honey you come sit right here and I will take good care of you.”

Abby raised her eyebrows at the double D’s spilling out, at the nametag. She turned to Dallas who was already being seated at a nearby table. “I’m going to use the restroom.”

“Wait, Abby,” he called out. “Let her know what you want first.”

Abby stopped to look back, “Whatever you think I trust you,” then smiled.

* * * * *

Cupping her hand forming a sun visor, Abby gazed up at the bell tower then studied the architecture of the ancient Cathedral. Its Victorian Gothic style was in direct contrast with the surrounding buildings of the Dallas Arts District. Her mind drifted to a memory of standing at the same entrance as a twelve-year old girl with long brown curls kept from her face by a velvet headband with a trim to match her ruffle dress.

Walking into the majestic building with her father, a coffered ceiling with stenciled Victorian snowflakes towered above a young Abby. She gazed at the pipe organ built in the 1800s, running her tiny fingers across the keys while listening to her father’s distant voice greeting an elderly priest, the one whom he had entrusted his most austere confessions. She suddenly felt her father’s heavy hand on her thin shoulder. “Abby, I would like you to meet Monsignor Augustine.” The Colonel turned to the frail old man and said, “Monsignor, this is my daughter Abigail. I entrust her to your prayers most reverend. She is the one who holds the key.”

“The key to what, daddy?”

He tapped his chest with his coarse fingers, “To my heart darling.”

Thrust back from her memory with an unshakeable smile, she watched Dallas while he reverently dipped his hand in the holy water and made the sign of the cross.

He looked back and whispered, “Do you like your surprise?”

“Yes I do.”

They paused near a stained glass window with intricate colors. Dallas took hold of Abby’s hand and said, “There’s a reason why I brought you here.”

“I know why you brought me here, Dallas. We talked about this place, about how my father owes his life to Our Lady of Guadalupe. It’s a very nice surprise. Thank you.”

“There’s another reason.” He gripped her hand. “Sometimes I look at Javi and I see that after a long successful military career – although he would never admit to this – he gets pretty lonely. I don’t want to be alone. What I’m trying to say is that…well…” He stammered. “I can’t really ask your father for permission…So I thought maybe I could ask here…before God.”

“What?”

“Hold out your hand.”

She held out her hand with her palm in the air.

He placed it over his chest. “I’m giving you my heart. It’s yours.”

She clutched his shirt. “Dallas, you already have mine.”

“Abigail Johnston!” A frail voice called out. “My, my, my…you are quite the woman now.”

“Monsignor Augustine?” Abby walked over to the priest who slowly approached maintaining his balance with a cane.

“Yes, and thank God for giving me the strength to still greet you. I’m in poor health and I’m afraid I cannot continue to help your father for much longer.”

“My father thinks very highly of you, Monsignor.” Abby helped the weak old man take a seat on a solid wood bench facing the Italian carved altar then sat next to him.

“Who is this young man you brought with you?” The old Monsignor pointed to Dallas who towered over the two.

“My father sent him to protect me. He’s like a Guardian Angel.” She smiled at Dallas.

“I can tell by your uniform you must work with her father.” He motioned to him. “Come take a seat next to us young man.”

Dallas sat next to Abigail with his arm across her back resting it on the bench.

“Col. Johnston was on a helicopter surveying a certain territory in Afghanistan when his helicopter was shot down and that’s how he was taken hostage.” Dallas explained.

“Yes, I heard about it on the news. I have been praying for him. I was his confessor for many years. He used to tell me I was the only person in his life that he could confide in.” The Monsignor gripped his cane.

“My partner Javi and I were sent on a mission to rescue him but we were ambushed and...” Dallas paused and shook his head. “Well, that’s when the Colonel gave me that necklace Abigail is wearing.”

Abby tightly grasped the pearl from her chain.

“Yes,” the old man said. “That’s the key.”

“I don’t understand.” Abby squinted.

“A few years ago your father entrusted me with a secret.” The Monsignor slowly stood up and hunching forward he motioned, “Follow me.”

They followed the small steps of the elderly priest through the long corridor and into a room called the Sacristy. Dallas glanced at his wristwatch and grew impatient with the sluggish old man who trembled as his wrinkled hands shuffled a set of keys in search of a match to the wardrobe lock. He unlocked the doors and hanging in the armoire were albs, chasubles, and stoles. He placed his trembling hands between the priestly vestments and pushed them aside revealing a safe with titanium triple fireboard and a ball-bearing hard plate.

He looked at Abby. “Your father came to see me one day and asked if I would accept to guard a top secret bullet-proof steel box.” He struggled with the combination but managed to unlock the safe. “I accepted.” He backed away from the closet and looked at Dallas. “Young man, you will have to reach in there for the steel box. I’m afraid that this decrepit old body cannot carry the weight.”

Abby looked into the safe. “What’s inside the box?”

“I never wanted to know. I’m afraid that if I knew, I would not have agreed. I decided to put this matter under the mantle of Our Lady. The day your father left the steel box with me, he made sure that if something were to happen to him, his daughter was the only person to gain access to the box. He showed me that very necklace that you are wearing. He told me he carried it with him always in his left breast pocket. You, wearing that necklace, would be the sign that I needed in order to open the safe and hand over its contents.”

Dallas leaned into the wardrobe and pulled the bulletproof steel box out of the safe. He decided not to open the box in front of the Monsignor.

“We need to go.” Dallas said looking at his watch.

“Monsignor Augustine, it has been a pleasure seeing you again. Thank you so very much on behalf of my father and myself. I appreciate your kindness.” Abby held the elderly, trembling hand of the Monsignor.

Monsignor Augustine reached in his pocket and handed Dallas a small prayer card. “Very well, go on, go on.”