Page 71 of Viking

The flags ripple in the breeze, the sound of them snapping faint but constant.

It’s fitting. Ryan loved the open sky, and now the same sky will carry him one last time.

I sit in the front row with Dalton on one side and Townsend on the other. My uniform feels stiff and suffocating, like it’s holding me together, but just barely. I don’t trust myself to speak. Not yet. The ache in my chest feels like a crater, raw and unfillable.

And if I know you, you’re probably blaming yourself.

The hum of whispered conversations fades as the ceremony begins, replaced by an oppressive silence that wraps around us like a storm cloud.

Lila is here. We drove together, though I barely remember the ride—just flashes of the lingering warmth of her arms around me when I fell apart on her front porch like the broken excuse for a man I’ve become. I didn’t deserve her comfort then, and I sure as hell don’t deserve it now. She’s sitting with the rest of the civilians from the demo team, not with me, because I never asked her to. I thought it’d hurt less this way, keeping her at arm’s length. But it doesn’t. I know she’s trying to respect my space but all I really want is her next to me. It’s fucked up since I don’t deserve her. Still, I can feel the weight of her absence like another wound layered on the one burning in my shoulder. Five days since the attack, and the pain is still sharp, radiating beneath the stiff fabric of my service coat. The bandages make the sleeve tighter, the sling an ever-present reminder of what I survived. What Ryan didn’t.

Townsend steps up to the podium, his posture rigid, his face a mask of composure. But I know him too well. His jaw is clenched, his hands grip the edges of the podium like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. He clears his throat, and his voice cuts through the silence, thick with emotion.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here today as we honor Captain Ryan Carter, call sign Spartan. He was a son, a brother, and to us, he was family.” Townsend pauses, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before landing on Ryan’s parents and younger brother, Tyler. His voice softens. “To Mr. and Mrs. Carter, Tyler, thank you for sharing him with us. Ryan was one of the best. A damn good pilot, and an even better man.”

The wind brushes past, carrying with it the faint scent of jet fuel and the distant roar of engines from the flight line.

Townsend takes a shaky breath and looks down at the Bible in his hands. He flips to a marked page, his voice even as he reads. “John 15:13 says, ‘Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.’” He looks up, his voice thick with emotion. “Carter embodied this. He gave his all—for his country, his team, his brothers.”

In the air, on the ground—you were my brother. You still are.

I grip my knee with my right hand, my knuckles white, trying to keep the tidal wave of grief at bay.

Don’t let this break you.

Townsend shares stories of Ryan—how he always had everyone laughing with his Texas charm, how he never backed down from a challenge. His voice cracks when he talks about Ryan’s courage in the air, the loyalty that defined him.

“I’ll miss him,” Townsend says, his composure finally slipping. “We all will.” He steps back from the podium, and for a second, he allows the grief he’s been holding back to flash across his face. He glances skyward. “Thank you.”

I don’t think I can do this, but Dalton nudges me. It’s my turn. My feet feel like lead as I walk to the podium. I attempt to roll my shoulders back, to force the tension from my body, but it sends white-hot pain up my shoulder and down my arm. I grit through it, gripping the edge of the podium with my good arm and force myself to look out at the crowd.

You’ve had my back through the good, the bad, and the absolutely insane.

“When I first met Carter,” I start, my voice shaky, “he told me I needed to loosen up. Said he’d never met a Viking who was so damn serious, then proceeded to put a beer in my hand.” A few quiet chuckles ripple through the crowd, but my voice thickens with emotion. “He was my wingman in every way. On the ground, in the air…and now. Always.”

Those memories, they’re what I want you to hold on to.

I pause, swallowing hard. “Ryan taught me how to laugh when things were hard, how to push harder when I thought I’d hit my limit. He wasn’t just fearless, he made the rest of us braver, too.”

We signed up for this, Logan.

I look at his family. “To the Carters, thank you for giving us Ryan. I promise you, we’ll carry his legacy with us. We’ll honor him every time we step into that cockpit.”

My voice breaks as I look at Ryan’s smile. “I’ll miss you, Spartan.”

I step back, and the tears come. Dalton grips my good shoulder, steadying me as we walk back to our seats.

The roll call begins. A master sergeant steps forward, his voice booming in the quiet. We stand.

“Major Townsend!”

“Here, Master Sergeant.” Townsend straightens his posture and visibly swallows.

“Captain James!”

“Here, Master Sergeant.” My reply falters as I’m hollowed out from the inside.

“Lieutenant Everett!”