Whole Pieces by Ronie Kendig

. . . what would become of the boy?
    Wind squawked in his ears. The concussion of the weapon’s fire thumped against his mind. He turned to the side, lifted his gaze to the sky. It’s time.
    Hot and cold battled for control of his limbs. Adrenaline increased his pulse. The roar in his ears worse than before.
    And here it came. What should take a second or two seemed to take an eternity.
    Ten feet.
    I want to see Ashley again.
    Seven.
    The men have a right to live.
    Five.
    No, he didn’t want to just see Ashley. I want to marry her.
    Three.
    I’m tired of being angry.
    Two.
    Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to die. Right here. Right now.
    One.
    As if disembodied from his will, his arm snapped out. His hand coiled around the incoming grenade. He snatched it from its path. Leaned back. Flung it on a return path. Two thundering heartbeats later, an explosion rent the night.
    Light shattered darkness.
    Fire rained down.
    Hawk stared. Had that really just happened? A strange noise bubbled up his throat. It came out sounding a lot like a giggle. But Green Berets didn’t giggle.
    I did it!
    Another bubble. This time laughter. He jerked around. Saw the men. Still fighting. Some wounded. But alive. They’re alive!
    â€œYes!” He pivoted.
    His legs tangled. Hawk flung out his arms, trying to catch his balance. “Whoa!” He wobbled. Stepped to the side. Landed crooked on someone’s leg. He felt their muscle roll. His foot slipped. Momentum shoved him down.
    Even slamming into the ground, his head thudding hard against it, Hawk wasn’t shaken. His joy wasn’t damaged. Staring up at the sky, he laughed. Thrust his fists in the air. “Yes!”
    The massive adrenaline dump left his arms heavy and weak. He breathed deeply, wiping the warmth of tears from his cheek. He did it. He’d stopped the trigger that ended the lives of his men. His team. Those he called brothers.
    He closed his eyes and blew out a long, steadying breath. Okay, fight’s still on. Let’s get it on!
    Hawk opened his eyes and lifted his shoulders. Then froze.
    Time slowed, but not the way it had a minute ago. Just enough for him to look up, see the device sailing in a high arc and flying straight toward him. God, no! Help! Not another one.
    â€œGrenade!”
    â€œTake cover!”
    Planting his hands on either side, he lifted his hip. Then swung his foot. Swung hard. Connected with the grenade.
    Steel jarred the bony part of the top of his foot. The sensation carried up his nerve, into his leg . . . knee . . . hip . . .
    Click!
    A thunderclap punched his eardrums. A sound he knew. Knew well from combat. The signal of a detonation.
    Darkness ruptured by brilliance. Pure. White. Nothingness.

Epilogue
    â€œHawk?”
    Drifting from the greedy claws of sleep, Hawk rolled his head to the side. Fastened onto the soft brown eyes that had been in his waking vision and last sight for the past thirty years. A weary smile trembled across his lips.
    She’d aged well. A few laugh lines around her eyes. Smile lines that marked the amazing triumph of time together. As beautiful today as she was that day he’d first met her. She pressed her lips to his forehead, the scent of roses wafting around her like a halo. He loved that smell. Reminded him of heaven.
    â€œThe kids are here, Hawk.”
    To say good-bye. He knew what she did not say.
    When she shifted aside, he saw his eldest son standing behind her. “Thom . . . asss.”
    Strong, powerfully built, Thomas Kelley had followed in his footsteps and spent most of his days in uniform. “Dad.” He knelt at the bedside. “I love you.”
    He’d taught him well. Taught him that love and warrior went together. Passionately.
    â€œQuite a difference, eh, Haytham?”
    Hawk looked to the side, choking back the emotion that made his throat raw. “Constant?” He frowned and felt a jolt as he