Page 118 of Viking

November 11, 2024

0830

Logan

The morning sun beats down on the tarmac as I walk toward the flight simulators, the faint scent of jet fuel hanging in the air. I adjust the cuffs of my flight suit, rolling my left shoulder, working out the tension from this morning’s training flight. My mind is already half in the cockpit, running through maneuvers, when movement ahead pulls me back to the present.

The door to Lila’s office swings shut, and standing in front of it, straight-backed and commanding as ever, is Lieutenant General Mercer.

My steps slow instinctively.

The years haven’t changed him much—his sharp blue eyes miss nothing, and even in his dress uniform, he looks every bit the seasoned warrior he is. The last time we were in the same place, I was standing stiff and silent at Lincoln’s memorial. It was a brief moment—just a handshake, my murmured condolence laced with guilt and self-loathing—but the weight of it has lingered ever since.

His gaze shifts, locking on to me, and I straighten fully. Protocol is ingrained in me like muscle memory. I stop a few feet away, snapping into a crisp salute. “Sir.”

His eyes hold mine as he returns the salute, precise and measured. “Captain James.”

I lower my hand, clasping it behind my back, standing at ease but still alert. There’s a heaviness between us, a decade’s worth of unspoken words. But when he speaks, it isn’t with the cool detachment of a superior officer. There’s something else there, something personal.

“I take it you were looking for my daughter?” His voice is even, but there’s a knowing glint in his eye.

I clear my throat. “Not at the moment, sir. Just heading to the simulators.”

He nods, as if he expected that answer. Then, after a brief pause, he adds, “Lila’s happy.”

I’m not prepared for this—not because I don’t know it, but because he’s telling me.

“Yes, sir,” I say, my voice steady. “I’d like to think so.”

His lips twitch slightly. “She talks about you.”

That makes my chest tighten in a way I don’t quite expect. I swallow, nodding once. “She means everything to me.”

Something flickers in his expression, approval, maybe? “Then don’t let this life make you forget that.”

I meet his gaze fully. “I won’t, sir.”

Mercer nods once, then glances back toward Lila’s office door. “She loves you, Captain.”

My heart rate kicks up.

I meet his gaze again, my voice sure. “I love her too.”

He studies me for a moment longer, then nods. “Good.” He motions toward my stiff posture. “You can relax, Captain.” I let my arms fall to my sides, mirroring his more relaxed stance. He studies me for a long moment, then exhales, his stance shifting ever so slightly. “You remind me of him sometimes.”

I don’t have to ask who he means. The name lingers in the air between us, unsaid but heavy. I keep my expression neutral, but my fingers curl slightly at my sides.

“Lincoln was an incredible wingman. I miss him every day,” I say quietly. It’s the truth. Always will be.

Mercer watches me carefully. “I know what you’ve been carrying, Captain.”

I hold my breath, my jaw tightening.

“You think you failed him,” he continues, his voice steady but firm. “You think if you had done something different that day, he’d still be here.”

I don’t answer. I don’t have to. We both know the truth of it.

Mercer exhales, shaking his head. “But you’re wrong.”