Mission Under Fire by Rex Byers Page A

I looked so silly because the picture was taken while I was dressed in my Beatles’ costume, wig and all, from the Beatles’ tribute band I play in. They flashed a picture of Morgan and CB, too. The biggest shock, though, came when they showed a picture of Jason Braun and his family. Bridget and her two daughters sat there stunned, already concerned that the worst was yet to come, staring at their dad and brother on a huge screen. At that point, the girls broke down and so did Bridget. Everyone in the room cried together.

Chapter 14
Homecoming
    T he flight back to Kokomo was miserable. No matter how I positioned myself it felt like a pair of pliers were pinching the back of my leg. I’d move in one direction and the pliers would bite, and in another and they’d bite again. I tried adjusting my weight but nothing seemed to help; I just couldn’t get comfortable. When we were about half way to our destination I felt the need to use the restroom. This was a bit awkward because the bathroom actually qualified as a seat, occupied by another passenger—one of the nine available “chairs”. Imagine a bathroom twice the size of the usual airplane commode, with a nice seat that folds over the toilet. When a guy needs to visit the Johnny, he lifts the comfy chair up, does his business, and then folds the seat back down. Now that you have that picture in your mind, that’s where I was headed.
    I managed to hobble to the bathroom and ask whoever was seated there to allow me to relieve myself. I stepped in and did what I needed to do, but realized that I wouldn’t be any more comfortable in my seat than I was on the toilet, which was actually nice brown leather. I decided to just stay in the bathroom and let my predecessor keep my comfortable chair that I was sitting in.
    The remainder of our flight home was pretty quiet. Most of the group slept for the first time since the shooting, and the others, like me, were too sore to sleep. So in the dim light, and through the gentle hum of the jet, I sat there evoking memories from the day and thinking about my family. Questions, frightening images, and the sound of gunfire zipped in and out of my mind. I was ready to go home. I was ready to see Sharon.
    ~•••~
    I ’ve never flown over Kokomo because I usually fly out of Indianapolis with the larger airlines. So as we approached our hometown, I wondered what the lights of our little city would look like. It was dark, around 9:30 pm, when we began our descent into the Kokomo Municipal Airport. I looked out of my window and was not surprised to see how small our little city looked from the air. I once thought of Kokomo as a major metropolis. As an adult I knew better, but the child in me had to see for myself.
    Interestingly, as we approached the ground, I could see the crowd below, and there was at least one camera crew if not more. I had expected the crowds but I wasn’t ready for them. Whenever there’s big news in Kokomo, you can always count on the major stations out of Indianapolis to show up as well as our local radio and newspaper reporters. They were there in droves.
    I later learned that the small airport terminal was packed with family, media personnel, and well-wishers waiting for us to land. Amber informed me that she was speaking with Brad’s wife, sharing what few details they had gathered throughout the day. It seemed that whenever anyone would speak to one of us directly, we’d only get so far before we’d break down and cry. It was true for me, it was true for Bridget, Jason’s wife, and it was true for Marsha, Brad’s wife as well. She had only been informed about Brad’s role in contacting Sonny, and arranging our flight. So when Amber shared that Brad had saved her father’s life, Marsha burst into tears.
    ~•••~
    A s much as I enjoy the excitement of a party, I wasn’t looking forward to answering questions, or dealing with cameras in my face. I wanted to get home. I wanted to hold Sharon. I