The Chosen One

Within six months of the war’s end, Erickson was promoted to captain. With the Marines’ losses, the need for combat-experienced officers was great. He’d taken command of a 2nd Marine Division Infantry Company and was excelling at his new duties. Recently, however, he’d received orders to leave for a two-year stint in Okinawa. During that unending time, the stolen moments with the woman he loved would nearly disappear.

Yet they’d chosen their paths, and neither was willing to turn back.

* * *

—

James Fife, his pronounced limp permanent, reached the maximum number of years the Marines would allow him to serve his country. He could put off retirement no longer. Forced into civilian clothing, he felt out of place. Yet he soon found a way back to where he was most comfortable. He moved to Oceanside, California, just outside the huge Marine base at Camp Pendleton. A buddy owned a company that provided security guards to roam the ocean-swept encampment’s distant reaches. The old platoon sergeant eagerly took the job his friend offered. Even though his uniform looked quite different from theirs, he was among his own kind as he watched the next generation of Marines prepare for desperate battles to come.

He found a sweet widow whose children were grown. Having lived through a Marine’s torments with her first husband, she understood what his previous life had been like. She demanded little, accepting whatever companionship he could provide. He kept a modest apartment a few miles away, but seldom went there. Neither was in love, and they likely never would be. Still, as they headed into their middle years, each was happy with what the quiet relationship provided. Although they’d never spoken of it, both planned on making this a long-term partnership with the potential to last for the remainder of their days.

* * *

—

Having recently celebrated his twenty-fifth birthday, Charlie Sanders remained a member of a reconstructed Detachment Alpha 6333. His engineering skills were even more practiced than before. The Pan-Arab War had been his initiating taste of combat, but he knew in this troubled world it wouldn’t be his last.

Within weeks of returning to Fort Bragg he’d wed one of his fiancées. The misguided marriage hadn’t lasted more than a few acrimonious months. The couple’s divorce had become final within the year. Since then, his relationships with women had grown even more transitory. His attempts to hide from his past through these shallow encounters had failed miserably. Not a day went by when Charlie didn’t think of Reena and the tragic events in the wine cellar. Those who knew the gregarious sergeant prior to the Pan-Arab War barely recognized the melancholy loner who’d taken his place.

* * *

—

The recently promoted Aaron Porter was still single. And still one of the best at his trade in any army in the world. He was also an enduring member of Alpha 6333, working to rebuild the decimated team into a viable fighting force. Despite Sanders’s efforts to rebuff him, Porter remained his one close friend.

* * *

—

After twenty-four years of service, Matthew Abernathy retired a few months after returning from Cairo. His latest wife pressured him into opening a small business in a town near Fort Bragg. He turned out to be an inept shopkeeper. After the excitement of his prior years he fared poorly in this mundane existence. Without telling her, within the past week he’d accepted a highly dangerous assignment with the CIA. It would be the end of his struggling endeavor and his failing third marriage.

* * *

—

Bradley Mitchell’s funeral was by necessity a closed casket. After his burial at Arlington National Cemetery his folks took the children to California. They remained with their grandparents, and would continue to do so for the indefinite future. Given their tender ages at the time of his death, even two years after his passing their memories of him were growing hazy and a bit distorted.

Far into the future his children would inherit their mother’s immense fortune. Despite what her wealth would bring, they’d have traded every cent to see their father a final time.

Their mother they missed little. Neither had seen her since their father’s funeral. Even so, she made sure to call and send presents on birthdays and at Christmas. Brooke had spent the majority of the previous two years in the Hamptons. With so busy a social schedule, she’d little time to grieve her husband’s death.

* * *

—

Norm Sweeney made good on his threat to leave the Navy. Since then, he’d had a number of offers for work as a commercial pilot. He knew he’d someday accept one, but he wasn’t ready to return to the skies. For now, he eked out a living dealing blackjack at the Desert Inn. He’d gone back to Las Vegas to find the vivacious Lisa and the solace she could bring. She continued to work as the lead dancer at the Riviera. Norm shared a cozy apartment and her enticing bed for the sixteen hours of the day they weren’t on the job. He’d never been happier in his life.

* * *

—

Darren Walton got his wish. His third child was a healthy baby boy. Between his father and older sisters, the inquisitive toddler was terribly spoiled. The sixteen-month-old towheaded infant carried a tiny football with him wherever he went. His father continued to coach Pee Wee football and wait for the day when his son would express a desire to join the team. Walton had recently received transfer orders to Germany. While they’d miss the friendships they’d made at Fort Hood, the family was excited about the change of scenery.

* * *

—

Despite his threats to never again speak to his platoon sergeant, Miguel Sanchez stayed fast friends with the Walton family. He’d burst with pride when he was named the new child’s godfather.

Prior to the Pan-Arab War, Miguel had considered making the Army a career. But with the events at Sakakah, he forever changed his plans. Eight months after the unit’s return to Texas his enlistment ended. Until the day he was discharged, he remained one of the best sources of information in the 1st Cavalry Division.

He’d headed home to Phoenix. He was presently two months into his sophomore year at Arizona State University and through his diligence and determination was doing well in school. The maturity he’d developed in the Army was evident in his approach to campus life. He’d found a pretty coed who was interested in understanding what he’d gone through, but never pushed him to tell more than he was willing to convey. Marriage was a real possibility.

With constant e-mails and occasional phone calls, he kept in contact with the Walton family. He’d remain close to them for the rest of his life.

* * *

—

There was more than enough turmoil at the war’s end for Muhammad Mourad to slip away.

For five days, worldwide television proclaimed his demise. Still it wasn’t long thereafter that the Americans figured out their mistake.

The Chosen One survived the blighted journey home. Despite his devotees’ pleas, the Mahdi refused to accept any special privileges during the tortured trek back to the mountains of southern Algeria. It took many weeks for the survivors to cover the thousand miles of barren landscape. A notable host failed to make it. Yet eventually the end had come. And once more, by Allah’s grace, the Mahdi was building a union strong enough to strike out and destroy those whose beliefs didn’t conform to his.

The Allies had placed severe economic and military restrictions upon his federation. And its citizens were suffering beneath the sanctions’ stifling yoke. Yet their brilliant leader was finding ways to reestablish his power.

The Americans were certain they’d won the war. But the Chosen One understood they were mistaken. The heretics had prevailed in the opening battle of the holy struggle, yet they’d accomplished no more. It was just the initial clash of many to come.

He was growing old and it would take years to overcome his failures in Egypt. Yet it didn’t matter. For he understood he’d been placed in this

world for a specific purpose. And nothing occurring in his futile struggle with the nonbelievers had changed that. He knew the prophecy would come to pass.

By his hand, Islam would rule the world.

Of that he had no doubt.

Photo by Charles Quinn Photography

Walt Gragg lives in the Austin, Texas, area with his wife, children, and grandchildren. He is a retired attorney and former Texas state prosecutor. Prior to law school, he spent a number of years in the military. His time with the Army involved many interesting assignments, including three years in the middle of the first Cold War serving at United States European Command headquarters in Germany. His first novel, the critically acclaimed The Red Line, was named the 2017 Best Book Award winner for best thriller/adventure novel and was a 2018 International Thriller Writers best first novel finalist.

He is presently working on a follow-up to The Chosen One.