More important now than ever.
The bastard extraordinaire doesn’t sweat under pressure. That’s how we’ve been able to accomplish everything we have over the years.
Right now, the husband and Master are close to breaking. The only thing keeping me vertical is Sarge being yanked out of retirement and dusted off to help shore up the rapidly weakening chief of staff.
Hold on.
I don’t want to contemplate any reality where Susa doesn’t come home to us alive and well. Or, at least alive. Although Sarge grimly whispers to me that even a recovery of her body faces very low odds, especially depending on how they hit the water, and Ibeghim to shut up for a while.
Hold on.
I want to believe that the SAR teams will find her and the others and safely transport them to our waiting arms.
Or, at leasther.
Hold on, pet. I’m coming.
I want to hope that modern technology will save her life. That there must be modern GPS technology on board to help them find them. My thumbs simultaneously rub my wedding band on my left ring finger, and the blue Doctor Who band on my right that Owen gave me, a near-match to the one he wears on his right hand, the ring I gave him the day he was sworn in as governor.
Susa also wears a similar band that Owen gave her, on her right ring finger.
I imagine she’s alive and can feel my presence, my love, my strength flowing to her through that gesture. I pray that she can sense me sending her strength and determination.
I do not want to imagine any world in which Susa is not in our lives.
Hold on, Suse.Please, hold on. Stay safe.
During the flight to Atlanta, I compose a statement on my personal laptop, proof it, and transfer a copy to my work phone to e-mail to Dray as soon as we’re on the ground in Atlanta. There is already an airport cop waiting at the charter hangar to drive me over to the other charter hangar.
Once I check in, I scroll through my phone again while I sit next to a wall outlet to help charge my phone. I have two battery packs with me but don’t want to use them yet in case I don’t have time to charge my phone in LA.
The story has blown up even more now, and my work phone shows I have ninety-seven missed calls, most of them not showing up in my contacts, meaning they’re likely press.
Some of the shell-shocked family members sharing the flight with me don’t have passports, so the State Department is already scrambling, coordinating with the US Embassy in the Philippines to get emergency passports issued.
I finally think to call my parents, who show up as a missed call on my personal phone. I have nothing to update them with, but I ask them to please not give any statements, and I give Mom Dray’s work number and ask her to refer all calls for statements to him.
Which reminds me.
I call Owen’s dad, and that’s when I choke up and nearly break down, as I ask him to do the same, not give any statements.
I’m sure Owen’s mother will use this opportunity to pop her head out of a hole like a zombie gopher to boo-hoo and make a fuss, so I text Dray’s personal cell from my personal cell.
If Elandra shows up or tries to insinuate herself, shut her down with extreme prejudice. Ask Benchley for help.
I receive a thumbs-up emoji in reply seconds later.
He knows the history there, and why I ask that of him.
They give us another update before we board. No news. It’s nighttime over there, and several countries are sending military ships to the area, plus fishing and commercial vessels have been diverted to look, but it’s stormy. They can’t put planes in the air yet. Even the US military is diverting a couple of ships that have helicopters on board to assist.
Thankfully, this flight doesn’t have Wi-Fi, meaning I’m forced to go radio silent and can’t torture myself or drain my devices by endlessly scrolling through news stories that don’t have any more information than what officials have already given us.
I don’t speak to anyone once we’re in the air and heading to LAX. I…can’t. I’m too close to the edge, everything frayed, and the last thing Owen needs is his chief of staff coming unglued on shaky cell phone footage sold to TMZ or some other vultures.
Like FNB.
Fuckers.
