A choked sob came from inside the helicopter. "Sorry, Sergeant. I'm sorry. I'm hit. I'm hurt bad."

Goose pushed himself up and put his back to the helicopter's body. He kept the M-4A1 canted up. "What's your name, Marine?" "Lance Corporal Kenny Pierce, Sergeant."

Goose pushed out his breath and stared down at the arm that stuck out from under the helicopter's body. The limb was the left arm. A gold band glinted around the ring finger. Married. The realization slammed home to Goose like a hammer falling. Thoughts flickered through his mind, images of Megan, Joey, and Chris. He walled them away with effort. He was a soldier on the battlefield. He would always be a soldier on the battlefield.

"Lance Corporal Pierce," Goose said, "I want you to put your sidearm down."

"Done, Sergeant."

With a quick prayer, Goose heaved off the side of the helicopter, stepped around the dead man's arm, and hunkered down in the cargo door. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark interior.

The Marine corporal was young with a kid's features that time in the service hadn't yet erased. Dark brows hung over pain- and fear-filled eyes set in dark hollows. He sat with his back against the opposite side of the helicopter. Blood stained his BDUs. Dead men lay around him. Fuel stink filled the air and let Goose know they were potentially sitting on top of a bomb.

"They're dead, Sergeant," Kenny croaked.

Goose shouldered his rifle and crept forward. The helicopter creaked as the weight shifted but didn't move more than a couple inches. "I know. I lost a buddy of mine."

"I lost my whole squad, Sergeant." The young corporal's face crumpled. He squeezed his eyes shut. Tears tracked down his bloody cheeks.

The young man was lucky to be alive, but Goose didn't mention that. He squatted down near the corporal, aware of the corpses of Marines that pressed in against him.

"Where are you hit?" Goose asked. Concentrate on the things that you can do. Not what you've lost. That's what Bill always said. Says! That's what Bill always says. You're not going to give up on him, Goose.

"My legs. I can't move them."

As gently as he could, Goose rolled the corpses from the young corporal, but he was grimly aware that he was still shifting dead weight. Blood was everywhere. He knew he should have at least put on the rubber gloves from the medkit to protect himself, but to be completely protected he'd have had to have a bodysuit. He concentrated on the task at hand, knowing he had to hold himself together for the young corporal.

"What happened to the helo?" Goose took his mini-Maglite from his combat harness.

"Don't know." The corporal yelled in pain when Goose uncovered one of his legs to reveal shrapnel wounds that had to have come from the shattered rotors. All of the men in front of Kenny Pierce were riddled with the jagged shards. More metal stuck out from the helo's interior. "Somebody said the pilot disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Goose opened his medkit and took out gauze and tape, added wraparound compresses, and a pair of scissors. He started cutting the man's pant legs to reveal the wounds. If the metal hadn't ripped through an artery and caused the young Marine to bleed out before now, he didn't want to inadvertently cause that.

"That's what they said."

Goose started wrapping gauze over the compress he'd wrapped around Pierce's lower leg. Letting his hands work through the familiar process, he glanced forward.

The cockpit was visible through the gaping hole left where the bulkhead separating the cargo area had been. The pilot's seat was empty. The copilot lay dead in the other seat with a length of jagged metal thrusting out from under the chin of his flight helmet.

"Did you see it?" Goose asked.

Pierce winced as the bandages were applied. "No."

"If you need something for the pain," Goose offered, "let me know." Shock was sometimes the best pain relief and one of the body's natural defenses. The cuts on the young Marine's legs were bad, but his legs were intact. Without a ready transport to ferry in more medical supplies, they had to conserve what they had on hand.

The Marine nodded. "I can deal."

Goose repacked the medkit. "I've got to get you out of here. Can you walk?"

Pierce tried to shove himself to his feet but couldn't gain enough traction on the tilted, blood-slick metal flooring in his weakened condition. "I can't. I'm sorry."

"Ease up, Marine. We'll all do what we can to see this through. You've done your part." Steeling himself, ignoring the wolfs jaws that wrenched at his bruised knee, Goose gathered the young man up in his arms and ducked down to step out of the helicopter onto the barren earth. The hot wind slapped him, draining his strength. His injured knee nearly buckled under him, but he made himself stand tall.

You survived for a reason, Goose. You survived for a reason and you're going to walk and you're going to do your job. God's hand is in this. Despite everything you see around you, God's hand is in this. Now you be the soldier you signed on to be.

Goose knew the words were Bill's. They must have been from some other time, some other battle when things had looked dark. Goose couldn't remember when that time was. Bill had always said that human beings were venal and unwilling to reach for anything outside themselves. God was there, but most men wanted to understand the nature of God, to know more things than they were ever meant to believe.

"Life comes down to two choices, Goose," Bill had always-has always-said. "You believe or you don't believe. God will test you because He loves you. He will take away everything you think you can know or trust until He reveals that belief to you. One way or another, every one of His children that resist Him is humbled and made to believe again. Look at David. God loved David fiercely, and no matter how many times David turned away from Him, God found a way to turn David back. You can't learn to believe, Goose. You just do. It's the most natural thing in the world if you let it happen."

For a moment, raw pain and fear and doubt crushed Goose as he surveyed the wrecked aircraft and the border such a short distance away where one of the fiercest enemies he'd ever faced waited to kill him and his men.

Holding the young Marine corporal to him, Goose was reminded how Chris had been laid in his arms just after his son had been born. The moment had been overwhelming. Even knowing Megan was pregnant, even feeling the baby kick, it somehow hadn't seemed real.

Then Chris had been there, lying in his arms, so small, so helpless. And Goose swore then that he had felt the hand of God upon him, felt the blessings of God upon him as well as the burden of responsibility. After years in the military, Goose knew he would never be able to keep Chris safe from everything. Goose knew he would never be strong enough or big enough to completely protect his son.

Only God could do that. And in that moment of feeling that God was with him, he knew a covenant had been made between God and him, that they would do everything possible to save Chris in the imperfect world into which he'd been born.

In that moment of grace while holding his son for the first time, Goose had known the truest peace ever in his life. God, how could I have forgotten that?

Then Goose realized that he couldn't have forgotten it. God had reminded him of that moment just now, at a time when that memory of faith had been most needed. God is there. God does see this.

The fear quieted. Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth. The passage came from Psalm 46:10. The verse had also been one of those that Bill had always held close to him.

Goose took a deep breath and believed, not because he had no choice, but because believing was the only choice a man with even a glimmer of faith could do. The pain and fatigue remained with him, but those things seemed more distant. He walked forward, and his injured knee remained strong beneath him. For the moment, that was all he needed.

United States of America Columbus, Georgia Local Time 1:25 A.M "Joey!"

Pain filled Joey's head. The throb exploded along his jaw and made his teeth ache. Deafness filled his left ear. Even though his lids were closed, bright light stabbed through his eyes and deep into his brain.

"Joey! Are you all right?"

Someone grabbed Joey's arm and shook him. Oh, yeah. That helps so much. Thank you. Fresh agony erupted inside his skull. He groaned and the grip on his arm went away.

"Wake up. We were in a wreck."

Dim images flickered through Joey's mind. Then he remembered the camo-colored Suburban that had been on a collision course with his mom's car. The memory of the crunch and scream of battered and torn metal haunted him. Man, you are never gonna get out of the house again in this lifetime.

Then he remembered that Jenny had been in the car with him. He snapped his eyes open, and the blare of car horns closed in on him. The din sounded like he'd set off a shop full of car alarms or stepped into a Klingon trap in a Star Trek episode.

Jenny sat in the passenger seat. An ashen pallor colored her face and blood leaked from the left corner of her mouth.

"You okay?" Joey asked.

She nodded. "I think so." She glanced at him. "I was just worried about you. You wouldn't wake up. Are you sure you're okay?"

No, Joey thought, I'm definitely not okay. This is my mom's car, and with my luck tonight, it's probably totaled. But he said, "Yeah. I'm okay." He turned his head and gazed into the bright headlights of the Suburban shoved against the side of the car. "This wasn't my fault. This guy came outta nowhere."

Checking the right front side of the car, he saw that the impact from the bigger vehicle had shoved his mom's car over into the stop sign. He hadn't even gone forward when his foot had slipped off the brake. The front windshield revealed a road map of cracks and fractures.

Anger swept through Joey. Tonight had been a total bust. Lying about his age and going to the club had been his fault. Not being home at curfew had been his fault. But this man, this was so not his fault. He had just been sitting at the stop sign when this guy had plowed into him. Now he was going to be even later picking up Chris.

Joey unbuckled his seat belt. He felt the bruising across his chest and hip and knew that they had been hit with considerable force.

"What are you doing?" Jenny asked.

"Getting out."

"We should wait."

"For what?"

"The police."

Joey squirmed over the seat. "That jerk hasn't even gotten out of the truck to come check on us. He's probably sitting in there wasted or stoned out of his mind. I don't want him hiding evidence before the police get here."

"It wasn't just him, Joey." Jenny pointed through the cracked windshield.

In the backseat now, Joey paused and looked. Several wrecks sat in the middle of the street. Cars had gone onto the median. Traffic was usually heavy, even at this time of night. Some of his anger melted away as the weirdness of the situation filtered through.

"A whole lot of people wrecked at the same time," Jenny said. "I saw them. It was like those cars just went out of control. Like the drivers just turned loose of the steering wheel."

Fear seeped in through the cracks of Joey's anger, breaking the hot emotion down and filling him with fear. Something's wrong. He tried to open the right rear door and found it was jammed. Rocking back, he threw his shoulder against the door. A screech filled the car's interior but the door opened.

Joey stepped out on shaking legs. Out on the street, other drivers and passengers were getting out of their cars. They yelled at each other, cursing, accusing, and sometimes asking if everyone was okay.

Jenny got out but stood behind the safety of the door.

"There's a flashlight in the glove compartment," Joey said. "Would you get it?" Goose had always been a stickler for being prepared. The glove compartment also contained emergency highway flares, and there was a large medical kit in the trunk.

Joey took the flashlight and switched it on. The beam cut through the night that had closed in around them. The Suburban's beams slashed across the top of his mom's car. Joey walked back and peered at the Suburban's cab.

Nothing moved behind the glass. The greenish glow of the dashboard lights outlined the seats and filled the cab. If anyone was inside, he or she had to be lying down.

Joey directed the flashlight's beam into the Suburban. As brave as he'd acted in the car, the last thing he wanted to face was a drunken military guy who wanted to blame him for the wreck. He'd seen young Rangers who'd had too much to drink get into fights, and even somewhat inebriated, those men remained dangerous.

"Maybe the driver is hurt." Jenny came over to Joey and took his arm in her hands. She looked worried. "We need to check on him."

Having the young woman that close, smelling her perfume, Joey felt ten feet tall. He was definitely the guy, and the logical choice to step into the potential danger. "I'll check on him."

"I'm coming with you."

"It might not be safe." Joey hoped that it was, but he wanted her to realize that he might be taking his life in his hands. Well, maybe not his life, but he could get socked. Of course, if he got socked and then was able to restrain the guy the way Goose and Bill had, he'd be a hero, right? Maybe it wouldn't matter so much that he was only seventeen.

"Why wouldn't it be safe?" she asked.

"He could be drunk."

A frown of distaste turned jenny's lips down. She'd obviously wiped her face because blood smeared her chin. "I've been around drunks before. Trust me, if he's drunk I won't feel like we owe him anything."

Joey started preparing his next argument and jenny left him standing there. He jogged to catch up. Man, he couldn't figure her out. She'd gone nuts on him in the car, and now she was willing to walk into a situation like this.

On the passenger side of the Suburban, Joey stepped in front of Jenny. She didn't protest. Trying not to shake, Joey directed the flashlight's beam into the big SUV.

No one was inside.

Joey continued examining the Suburban's interior, looking for a bottle or beer cans. Surely there was something that would help his case with his mom when he tried to explain what had happened to her car.

"Did he get out?" Joey asked.

"Who?"

"The driver."

"Did you see the driver get out?" Jenny's tone turned unexpectedly sarcastic.

"I think that was during the time I was kinda knocked unconscious," Joey replied.

"If I'd seen someone get out of this car, I'd have told you." She stepped back from him and crossed her arms.

Joey sighed. Man, there was nothing he could say that didn't lead to a potential argument. "I didn't say that you wouldn't." "Then what were you saying?"

He turned to her. "Look, Jenny, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come across like that. But there's no way whoever was driving this SUV just disappeared."

She narrowed her eyes angrily. "Then you're saying this car just rolled down the road till it hit us?"

Joey looked back down the street. There were no parking places, no stops along the way where a driver might have left an idling vehicle.

"Something else happened," Jenny said, looking back out at the traffic. "We weren't the only ones it happened to."

Turning his attention back to the Suburban, Joey tried the passenger door. The door opened easily. The SUV had obviously sustained less damage than his mom's car.

"What are you doing?" Jenny demanded.

Joey popped the glove compartment open. "Trying to find out who owns this SUV. A lot of people carry their insurance papers in the glove compartment." He rifled through the contents and found a small expandable file that contained the insurance verification form.

Anthony Macintyre was a sergeant who lived at Fort Benning.

"Hey," Jenny said. "Look in the driver's seat."

Instinctively, Joey started to withdraw, thinking there was something dangerous there. He swung the flashlight beam over the uniform lying on the seat as though the clothes had been driving the car. Before he could move, Jenny shoved in beside him and reached across the passenger bucket seat and plucked the uniform from the driver's seat.

As Joey watched in disbelief, Jenny went through the clothing. She opened the leather wallet. "Sergeant Macintyre, Anthony. That what you found?"

"Yeah. You really shouldn't-"

"Joey, something really weird is going on here. We need to know everything we can." Jenny picked up the guy's cell phone and punched buttons. "The last call he got was from Fort Benning." She showed Joey the glowing screen.

Joey recognized the exchange as one that belonged to the military base even though he didn't recognize the number.