13
“Are you sure?” Vicki whispered almost inaudibly under the choir singing “God Bless America.”
Colonel Elizabeth Karen could tell how upset Vicki was simply by the fact that she was repeating herself. For the tenth time, she reassured the girl she was.
They stood in the ranks of thousands before the Pentagon’s river entrance. October 11th, one month after the plane crashed into the building, they’d gathered to hear the President’s speech at the mass Remembrance Service. It marked the end of a month of mourning. Tomorrow, the repairs would begin.
It had seemed fitting to her that today was also her own last day in the Air Force.
“I have things I want to do, Vicki. I set out twenty-five years ago to help the hearing impaired. To help them live better lives. The attack made me realize
