Free Bishop's Song by Joe Nobody Page B

sending a rescue team after every missing family member. It would break us in a matter of days. This is going to be a tough decision.”
    Hunter chose that moment to scowl, the infant’s wrinkly face turning into a fussing cry. Terri smoothed the child’s head, cooing with a soft voice. “You better give him back. I think he’s more comfortable with me right now.”
    “It’s okay,” Bishop countered. “He has to get use d to me at some point in time, even if I don’t have boobs.”
    Terri laughed, nodding her head in agreement. But Hunter’s protest continued to build, the infant clearly disgruntled with life at the moment.
    Terri tried to fight it off, knowing it was best to let it play out. On and on, Hunter wailed, Bishop trying to sooth with a soft voice, even checking his son’s diaper to verify that wasn’t the issue. Regardless of Bishop’s excellent care, Hunter’s cries tore at Terri’s core. She knew her child was not in danger, was fully aware that babies sometimes cry. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. She resisted the unbelievable urge to pick up the child to quiet it.
    “Sometimes you just have to let them go,” Bishop commented , seeming to sense his wife’s mounting frustration.
    The couple left the courthouse, walking to their nearby bungalow. Hunter paused briefly when they stepped outside, then continued to shriek as if in pain.
    Halfway home, Terri couldn’t handle it anymore. “Give him to me,” she said, “I can’t stand it. He’s hurting over something , and its tearing me up inside.”
    Bishop lifted the papoose over his head, giving in to her wishes, not over concern for Hunter, but for his spouse.
    As Terri accepted the baby, Bishop commented, “You’re probably feeling the same thing Grim is. He can’t hear his child’s crying, but I’m sure he imagines it now and then. That has to be worse.”
    The moment wasn’t lost on Terri. Despite the parent-switch, Hunter continued to let everyone in earshot know of his displeasure. He didn’t stop his tirade until the couple was almost home. Suddenly, just as quickly as it had begun, the baby fell silent, apparently happy and calm.
    “Gas,” pronounced Bishop.
    Terri’s pulse and blood pressure returned to normal. She couldn’t help but compare her feelings the past few minutes to the torture Grim must be feeling every day.
    “I’m going to recommend that the counc il approve the mission, Bishop.”
     
    Alpha, Texas
    July 2 , 2016
     
    The candlelight waivered with any movement, the effect enhancing the melancholy expressions of the men congregated around the table. Empty coffee cups, calculators, maps and half-used pads of paper littered the surface, the debris evidence of both the meeting’s duration and intensity. An assortment of chairs had been scavenged, pulled up by those who grew tired of standing while the seemingly endless debates ebbed and flowed.
    Bishop scanned the faces of his comrades, taking a break from the frustrating exercise that fueled his throbbing head. Deke’s team was there, eight elite fighting men with skills honed in some of the world’s most violent places. Those who had witnessed the contractors in action had taken to calling them “ghosts,” their abilities in battle almost mystical.
    Nick sat across the table, his dossier of martial arts skills second to none. A recently retired Special Forces sergeant, he had taken the field on every continent and survived. More importantly, he held the respect of every man at the powwow. They had all seen him fight - they were all glad he was on their side.
    What a brain trust , Bishop thought. The potential for violence gathered in this one spot is amazing. What the hell am I doing here?
    The attendees weren’t all elite warriors. Cory, the town’s mechanic, was in attendance, his knowledge and contribution as critical as any trigger finger. The same could be said of Phil, the local ham radio operator. The skull session