" Damn son, you are the spitting image of your grandfather. My names John Blakemore, I have a car outside for you, we can leave as soon as we find you... bags."John Blakemore turned out to be the guy who engineered the fix to Katrina's Borkowski problem. He was the chief of public affairs for Fort Carson and a native of the area. He led us to a white Ford Taurus sitting in the tow away zone in front of the arriving flights doors. A cop standing by the car gave Mr. Blakemore a jaunty salute.. Soldiers, mostly, protecting the column." Looking at the dock beside them, James saw an honor guard moving towards them as the gangway was put into position. "What's done is done. Blame is for afterwards. For now, it's time to work with what we have, save those we can. Come on. I can see Captain Putaski's unhappy face from here." Greetings, Your Grace." The Captain bowed, as the honor guard saluted. James nodded in acknowledgment. At some point, he'd have to give this man a rank and title. More

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