Chapter 3 - The Blocked Aisle
Before my father could reach me, a heavy, solid hand rested gently on my shoulder.
I turned my head. Standing directly behind me in immaculate civilian suits were three men whose posture and sharp, watchful eyes gave them away instantly. Retired operators. Men who had looked death in the eye and laughed alongside me in various corners of the globe.
“Good afternoon, Admiral,” the tallest of them murmured, offering a crisp, respectful nod.
Across the chapel, my father stopped dead in his tracks, realizing he couldn't cause a scene without drawing the gaze of the entire room. He gritted his teeth, his jaw working violently, and mouthed a furious, soundless threat from the front of the nave before turning back around.
Down the center aisle, my sister Melissa appeared in her breathtaking designer wedding gown, her face flushed with bridal excitement. On her arm walked her soon-to-be husband, a junior partner at a hedge fund whose primary life achievement was wearing a tailored tuxedo with absolute complacency.
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The organ swelled into the traditional wedding march, and the congregation rose to their feet.
I remained standing near the rear archway, my hands clasped in front of me, watching the theatrical display of a family trying to pretend I didn't exist.
