It seems disrespectful to leave this country now, after everything that's happened. To leave after what we've given here, to forget it and move on.
Gus watches the news silently with the rest of Mjolnir. Some laughed, some clapped, some cried. Some remained silent, mostly those from the airbase. Some, like him, looked around the room at others. When their eyes met, they exchanged a small nod or a blink. Without saying anything, they all knew. Men and women from all variety of backgrounds and experiences, different nations, cultures and languages, communicated feelings beyond words with the simplest of gestures.
Did Geary know he'd be a national, no, multi-national hero? That he'd be the final nail in the coffin to end the war on this front? The hammer blow that felled the Deltan champion of the sky?
Gus shakes his head to himself.
No. Geary was an ordinary man made extraordinary by extraordinary sacrifice. He died doing his duty, and like all heroes, for the guy next to him. Something I'm sure we'd all like to say we would do.
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