Chapter 13: Mr. (and Mrs.) Briggs Goes to Washington*
A/N: There's a bit of a little bonus for you guys at the end of the chapter, I guess you could call it a deleted scene if you will. It's a little short to be its own chapter, so here it is; well at the bottom that is.
Chapter 13: Mr. (and Mrs.) Briggs Goes to Washington
October 15, 2020, Hernandez’s office
“Colonel, so far we are pleased with the progress reports that we are getting from you and your team concerning the ‘angel project,’” the male voice said over the phone.
“Of course General, that project leader takes great joy and pleasure in taking excellent notes and writing accurate reports in a timely fashion,” Hernandez replied.
“The joint chiefs noticed that little detail, or should I say large. There has to be hundreds of pages of these,” he said. “But enough fucking around, the joint chiefs want to meet her in person.”
Hernandez was shocked, “But why, sir? Aren’t the progress reports enough to-?”
“No. They have insisted that they meet her in person. You know they have their reasons.”
Hernandez sighed, “Well if that’s what they want I’ll set up a conference room in one of the building here and-”
“No. They want to meet her here, at the Pentagon.”
“But sir that’s in DC. Are you sure you want to be sending her there?” Hernandez asked.
“No, I want to send her to a CIA black site prison somewhere in the Australian outback,” the general replied with a heavily sarcastic tone. “They want to see her in DC, so make it happen.”
“Yes sir, right away sir,” he said before hearing that the other end had hung up. Today was going to be a fun day for Colonel Hernandez playing the part of a travel agent for an alien and her husband/bodyguard.
***
October 16, 3am – Briggs residence
I heard my ringtone go off for the second time tonight alone, waking me up from the wonderful sleep that I was oh so very much enjoying. The first a few hours ago had been from my mom saying ‘hi’ and wanting to speak with Spitfire for a bit. It sounds like my mom and Spits are going to get along quite nicely. You can’t say that works out for everyone who has a mother-in-law. I picked up my phone without looking at the caller ID.
“Mom I told you, I’d talk to you in the morning,” I said groggily into the phone.
“Ehem, please hold for Col. Hernandez,” came Hernandez’s secretary’s voice from the other end. Well that woke me up pretty fast, or enough to make coherent sentences.
“Lieutenant, you and Spitfire are wanted at the Pentagon at 1pm tomorrow. Instructions will be sent to you via text message in a short bit,” he said.
“What do they want?” I asked while rubbing the sandman out of my eyes.
“I have no clue. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with a project we’re working on. Just be at the airport tomorrow morning, you’ll be there for a maximum of three days so plan accordingly,” he said before hanging up.
***
Later that day
“Ok so you’re telling me that some of the most powerful people in your nation’s military wants to talk to me?” Spitfire asked.
“Yep,” I replied while packing another shirt into the suitcase.
“But why? Can’t they just read the reports sent by the colonel?”
“They probably already have read those reports.” I looked at a pair of jeans and looked them over. Looks like they’ll still fit. I place them inside too, “As for what they want to talk to you about, I have no idea.”
“But if they want to talk to me why are you going along too?”
“Yes, let a high value person go around the nation’s capitol, at which times can be very dangerous for the residents and even more so for the tourists that pass through certain areas, alone,” I said with my head cocked to the side in a ‘are you shitting me?’ look.
“Ok fine, I get it,” she replied before starting to pack her bag too. We spent the next few minutes in silence before she saw me packing my carry-on bag. “Why are you packing a second bag with an extra set of clothes?”
“Well airports are notorious for losing baggage, so it’s better to be prepared and have something rather than nothing,” I replied finishing packing my carry-on.
The only major thing to have happened over the last few weeks is that Spitfire is now out of one cast, the one that was a clean break, and is now on crutches. It was frustrating for her to get into the swing of things, literally since you have to swing yourself to move forward, but she finally got the hang of it and is now cruising around the house on her own. She’ll fly inside from time to time, but she could only do so much in the living room of a house. Trust me when I say she’s getting ‘cabin fever.’
I called work and told them that I wasn’t going to be in for a few days, I might as well let them know, right? After that I had to hunt down my dress uniform, I haven’t worn that since well, ever. It should still fit me, even if I haven’t really changed in terms of weight or anything since I got it. I’d have to wear it on the plane since I really don’t want to lose it nor do I want to change right before the meeting takes place.
Since we leave tomorrow I need to start shutting things down and locking them up, you know the drill: turn off surge protectors except for what we need tonight, lock up valuables in the safe (a gun safe in this instance), and leave a key with the neighbor in case they need to take care of something for us while we’re gone.
***
6am, October 17
I drove down the highway at a respectable speed of five over the speed limit. It’s that perfect spot at which a cop won’t pull you over unless he or she’s a real stickler for the law. Spitfire was taking a nap in the passenger seat due to waking up early and it’s a medium length car ride to the other side of the city to get to the airport.
I pulled into the long-term parking garage and cringed at the rates as I pulled in. As I pulled into the garage and entered the location of my car into my phone’s notes, I cut the engine and nudged Spitfire to wake up before stepping outside and popping the trunk. I started unloading our three bags, one bag with our clothes in it and two carry-ons with our spare set of clothing as well as toothbrushes. I slammed the trunk shut and saw that Spitfire wasn’t out yet. I walked over to the passenger side and opened the door.
“Hey Spits, it’s time to get up,” I said nudging her again. She only murmured something about ‘mom letting her sleep in a few more minutes.’ “Ok, very funny, Spits. But seriously we’re going to miss our plane if you keep sleeping,” I said shaking her shoulder a little harder this time.
“Wha-?” she said with a yawn coming forth.
“Come on, time to get going. You can sleep on the plane once we get on.”
“Fine,” she said swinging herself out of the car. I pulled her crutches out of the back and handed them to her. I still stood nearby in case she needed a hand, the last few days though she’s been good on getting up out of a seat on her own. The first few days on the other hand… not so much. It was sort of funny and sad to see her struggle to get up. Yes I know I’m a terrible person at times, but in a redeeming move I did help.
We walked outside of the garage, Spits hopping of course, and stepped into the terminal. We got in line and waited our turn, which didn’t take long considering how early it was and that this was one of the times of the year in which isn’t a heavily traveled. The bag was checked in by the airline and we proceeded to the security checkpoint. I’ll say this, being in the military has its perks, like for example being pulled aside in a different line to pass through quickly. Yes I jumped the line, well Spitfire did too since she’s with me. I could see the looks on the faces of the other people in the line to get through the TSA checkpoint, they were sort of dirty because who likes standing in lines?
After getting the pat down and walking through the metal detectors and putting our carry-ons (and my jacket) through the x-ray machine we were walking into the terminal lobby for our flight. We sat for a good half hour before the boarding call for our flight was called out over the intercom. Another perk of being in active service? Being in the first group on the plane. Our seating was for first class so I guess someone wanted us to be in comfort on the ride over. Spitfire took a seat near the window and I handed a flight attendant her crutches before stowing our bags below our seats. After all that I finally settled down into my own seat beside Spits.
Eventually everyone else started filing into the plane and took their seats. A half hour later the plane hatch sealed and then the plane started to taxi to the runway. We finally took off after a good twenty minutes of sitting on the tarmac waiting for, what I’m assuming was, clearance to take off. After I popped my ears from the rapidly changing altitude I finally let my eyes close and let sleep take its course.
***
Later… 35,000 feet above sea level
I felt my phone go off. It wasn’t a call, but an alarm since I already had my phone on ‘airplane mode.’ I took my hat off of my face, which I was using it to cover my eyes, I pulled it out and turned off the alarm. I looked at the screen and saw that it was already 8:30am. As I straightened my seat out I hit the button that would summon the flight attendant. A good minute later she showed up, a smile being forced on her face. No one likes to work early, regardless what their line of work is.
“How can I help you, sir?” she asked.
“Can I just get a bottle of water or something?” I replied.
“Of course sir, I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she said before walking off. She came back a minute later with a disposable cup filled with ice and a small bottle of water. “Here you are,” she said as she placed it on my drop down tray. “Is there anything else you need?”
I opened the bottle and poured it into the cup, “Actually yes there is one more thing. How much longer until we land?”
“About another two hours,” she said before walking back to her station.
I looked over at Spits and she was already up. Her fire-red hair was down today, since we didn’t have enough time to really deal with that sort of thing before leaving. It actually looks kind of cute, she should wear it like this more often. She was watching a movie on her phone, her earbuds were in so she didn’t hear my conversation with the flight attendant. As I looked at the screen I realized that she was watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Good movie.
I tapped her on the shoulder. She took out her right earbud and looked at me, “Morning,” she said.
“Morning,” I echoed. “Enjoying the movie?” I asked.
“Yes I am, it reminds me a bit of feudal Equestria.”
From the earbud I could barely hear, “Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?”
“Not at all, they could be carried.”
“Wha-? A swallow carrying a coconut?”
“It could grip it by the husk.”
“It’s not a question of where it grips it, it’s a simple question of weight ratios. A five ounce bird could not carry a one pound coconut.”
Ah a wonderful scene, still not as great as my personal favorite being the Knights who say Ni. I chuckled to myself as I took a drink. The movie they were playing up front was unbearable. I think I’ll go to sleep again.
“Hey, wake me up when we get there,” I say to Spitfire before I put my hat back over my face and lean back in the seat. I let out a silent yawn before I slip back to sleep.
***
“Attention ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our approach, so if you would please place your seats and tray tables in the locked and upright position it would be appreciated,” one of the pilot’s voices said over the intercom.
I woke up slowly, it sort of helped that Spitfire nudged me a few times before I moved at all from my nap induced slumber. These first class seats are nice, they don’t leave a crick in your neck when you wake up. I did as the pilot instructed and a good ten minutes later we were touching down at the airport.
“Good morning everyone, this is your pilot speaking. Welcome to Baltimore International. The temperature is a nice 62°F. We’ll be pulling into the terminal shortly. Thank you for flying United airlines,” he said before turning off the intercom.
Soon enough we were in the terminal and being in “active service” Spits and I got to get off of the plane first. It’s nice, it really is. We went on down to the luggage carousel and picked up the bag. As we walked out of the terminal I saw a limo driver holding a sign simply saying “Briggs.” I walked over to her and she looked us over.
“Andrew and Samantha Briggs,” I said pointing to both me and Spits.
“This way sir and madam,” she said tucking the sign under her arm.
“I’ve never been called ‘madam’ before,” Spitfire whispered to me. She led us outside to a limo. She opened the door and I took Spits’ bag from her before handing it to the driver and helping Spits into the limo. I set my own bag down and saw that the driver had taken it and placed it in the trunk as well. She had also taken the crutches when I had set them against the car. Seeing that all our luggage had been taken care of I hopped inside the limo as well and the driver closed my door, like a butler would.
We drove along until we crossed into the city limits of DC. I could already see some of the monuments that I had seen once a very long time ago. Soon enough we arrived at the hotel and checked in. Whoever was paying for this got us a nice suite with a king sized bed, Spitfire will be pleased with that amenity. Spits waited in the limo while I checked in, plus we were expected elsewhere so I just ran up and dropped the bags off in the room.
It didn’t take long to drop them off because I was in and out in ten minutes if not less. Back in the car the driver took us downtown. Traffic at noontime wasn’t as bad as quitting time or even the morning rush, but the people going out for lunch tended to plug up the streets. It took us a good hour to reach the other side of town. We pulled up to the front gate and we both needed to show our ID’s before they would even let us into the parking lot.
After that checkpoint we pulled up to the curb and we were then let out by the driver. I got myself out and the driver already had Spits’ crutches out for her, which was nice of her. After I had helped Spits out and she was on her feet, hopping or whatever you want to call it, towards the entrance I pulled out my wallet and pulled out a twenty and tipped the driver. She tipped her NYPD style hat towards me.
“I’ll be here when you get back,” she said before getting back in the limo and driving over into the lot. Well that’s one less thing to take care of. As I walked inside I saw that Spits was already being scanned over by one of those metal detector wands. I had the same done to me as well soon enough.
A soldier carrying a holstered pistol and a clipboard walked up to us. “What is your business here?” he asked in a gruff voice. It sounded like he smoked a lot.
“Lt. Andrew Briggs and Samantha Briggs,” I pointed to us while I pulled out my military ID, and Spitfire her civilian one, “we’re here for a meeting with a few of the Chiefs.”
He took our IDs. “One moment please,” he said walking over to a desk that had a scanner on it. He handed them over to another soldier who looked none too happy to be here at work this fine day. I guess it’s a case of the Mondays for her. I head two *beeps* and she looked at the screen, then us, then back again before handing the IDs back to the first soldier nodding. He walked back over to us, handing back our IDs. “Sorry for the delay, our computers are being a little buggy today,” he said apologetically.
“It’s ok,” Spitfire replied.
“Please wait over there, someone will be along shortly to escort you to your destination,” he said pointing to a potted plant. I think it’s a fichus or something. We walked over and waited for a good ten minutes before someone dressed in a dress uniform came over. I saw that her rank pin signified her as a major. She stopped right in front of us and I snapped to attention and gave her a salute. I saw that her nametag said ‘Lorn.’
She returned it saying, “Lt. Briggs, Mrs. Briggs, please come with me.” She led us down a few hallways before taking us into one of the inner rings of the Pentagon. There was another checkpoint, but after Major Lorn flashed her ID they let all of us through without a hassle. She then took us over to an elevator and swiped a card next to the panel before pressing the ‘down’ arrow. The doors opened and we stepped in. She lit the second, third, first, and basement floor buttons before pressing and holding the second basement button.
“Why are you holding the-?” Spitfire got off before she saw the current floor descend below the basement floor. The elevator kept going for a few more floors before stopping. The doors opened and we were ‘greeted’ by two soldiers armed with M16 rifles. And by greeted I mean they just looked at us funny before opening the door to a bunker. And it even made that hiss whenever you have pressurized doors that get their pressure equalized when opening or closing.
As we walked inside the door was closed and locked. In the center of the room was a large conference style circular table. Seated at this table were four people. All four of them were men, all of them generals. I snapped a salute as they stood up and returned it. “If you would both have a seat, we can get started,” the one on the far left said. We took our seats and he spoke up again, “Allow us to introduce ourselves. I am General Max Tullis, Army.”
“I am Admiral Steven Ravensburg, Navy,” the man next to Tullis said.
Next the man next to Ravensburg, “I am General William O’Kaffry, Air Force.”
Finally the man on the end introduced himself, “I am General Caleb Anderson, Marines.”
“I suppose you are wondering why you are here, Samantha? Or should I call you Spitfire?” Tullis asked. She looked back him in shock, “You shouldn’t be surprised at all considering that we have read the reports that were sent to us.”
“You are here because you represent yourself to be an asset to our future,” O’Kaffry stated something that we already knew.
“But what you don’t know is how we’re going to proceed and how you’re going to help,” Anderson added.
“How can I help with anything other than giving DNA samples to the lab geeks?” Spits asked.
“That is where your husband comes in,” Ravensburg chimed in.
“Me?” I asked with a startled expression.
“Lieutenant, how would you like to be the first human test subject for the gene therapy drug?” O’Kaffry asked. I must have sat there for a good five minutes just thinking about what they were asking me to do.
“Andrew, are you ok?” Spitfire whispered into my ear. That snapped me out of the thoughts running through my head.
“Yeah I am,” I whispered back. “How safe is it?” I asked the four.
“Our animal testing has shown no ill side effects thus far,” Tullis answered. I sat there thinking for a few more minutes. What are the upsides? Well I could get an awesome set of wings and then I’d never have to fly commercially again, but I wouldn’t be able to go outside that often because of the religious fanatics. I could gain ‘magical powers,’ but I could also have what Spitfire called mana exhaustion which if severe enough could kill me. But I COULD finally be a Jedi. Oh come on, what child at heart hasn’t dreamed of doing that at least once in their lives? I could become super strong, but I’d be accused of being on ‘roids. But intimidation usually works for that.
“Your answer Lieutenant?” Anderson asked with a firm voice breaking me out of my current train of thought.
“Sure,” I replied. Why the hell not? What’s the worst that coul-. Ok I’m going to stop myself there before I finish that infamous jinx. Yes at times I can be a little superstitious at times. Not the point of crazy, but well enough.
"Since you have agreed Lieutenant, your wife will be in charge of monitoring your progression since, according to our records, she knows what happens in each of the sub-species of her people progress," Ravensburg said. "Further instructions will be given to you once the preparations have been made."
“Good. Now that this business has been completed you are now free to go,” O’Kaffry said. “Oh and Spitfire, feel free to tour the city, we know you’re not exactly from around here,” he said before walking out of the bunker with the rest of the Joint Chiefs.
“Well I think things are going to get a little more interesting,” Spitfire commented.
“I suppose it will,” I added. “Hey want to get lunch, I know of a place around here I went to a long time ago?”
***
Union Station
“Ok so here’s what I think we should do,” I said pointing to my phone before taking a bite of my burger. “We go over to the Washington and Lincoln memorials first since they’re right next to each other, then we go to the Jefferson and Iwo Jima memorials. Then we finish up the night by going over to the Second World War, Vietnam, and Korean memorials.”
“Wait, why is the Korean one last?”
“Because the night gives it new life,” I replied with a foreboding intent. Well it wasn’t going to be bad, but it will certainly be interesting at night, that’s for sure.
“Ok, whatever that means,” Spits replied taking a bite of her own sandwich.
***
Reflecting Pool
“So this is the reflecting pool?” Spitfire stated. “It doesn’t look like much,” she said leaning down looking at the pool itself.
“Well this site has been the home of many events over the years, one big one being Martin Luther King Jr.’s speech ‘I have a dream.’” I walked over to the Lincoln memorial’s steps and turned around to face Spits in a faux speech voice. “‘I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down at the table of brotherhood.’ Famous indeed, memorable for many people still alive today,” I said while stepping down.
“So why is the Washington monument the way it is?” she said while turning around to face it.
I thought for a moment, “You know honestly I always thought that it is the way it is because it sort of looks like a ‘number one.’ Because he was the first president and all.” I shrugged, “For all I know it’s something completely different.”
“Well I guess that’s something to think about,” Spitfire said while hopping up the stairs of the Lincoln memorial. She seems to be enjoying this looking around though, so that’s a good thing.
***
Iwo Jima memorial
“I heard about this battle,” Spitfire said looking at the statue. “A very long fight over a very small island in the Pacific.”
“It was a key island needed to ‘island hop’ over to Okinawa a short time later,” I replied. I took a few steps back and pointed to the flag raising, “Fun fact about the hands on the pole: there’s a fifth hand belonging to no one.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Well it’s rumored that the creator of the statue put a fifth casted hand there after a tale was told to him how one of the marines holding the flag said that there was a fifth hand on the flag helping them raise it. Some have said that it is the hand of God himself helping the marines on the beach that day.”
“So ‘God’ helped one specific side that day?” Spitfire asked with a raised eyebrow.
“If you thought you were on the side of good and had a deity of goodness, wouldn’t you say that said deity helped you regardless whether it was true or not?” I countered. “It’s just an old tale about the raising, no one quite knows the truth.”
We walked over the Potomac River to the Jefferson memorial. I think she liked the river view we didn’t say long at the memorial, just a quick look around. We made our way back to the limo and the driver took us to the World War II memorial. We did the same to this memorial as the one before. We looked around at the pillars of the memorial itself. I remember when I saw this myself the same year it opened. Not much was needed to explain to Spits what the memorial was for. We headed back to the limo and drove to the Vietnam memorial, it was getting to be dark soon, almost time to save the best for last.
We looked at the wall of the Vietnam memorial, there were a few other people there too. They were taking a piece of paper and a piece of charcoal and were rubbing the charcoal over the paper on the wall.
“What are they doing? Are they allowed to do that?” Spitfire asked.
“They’re taking an etching of one of the name on the wall, chances are it was a family member, and yes it is legal. It’s another way for the families and other visitors to remember the fallen.” When we reached the end of the wall we went back to the limo, we drove for a short time later and we were finally at our last destination for the day, well other than the hotel to sleep in. We walked in to the memorial and Spits’ eyes lit up in realization why I waited until after sunset to show her it.
“They’re ghosts,” she said quietly.
“Not quite, they’re just made and colored in such a way so that when the light from those lamps hit them right they look like ghosts walking up those stairs. It’s creepy, eerie, and downright brilliant.
“All the stuff you showed me today it’s just- wow. I know that Celestia keeps statues in the public gardens at Canterlot, but nothing of the size of these.”
“We have a saying here that many have repeated throughout the years, ‘those who do no learn from history are doomed to repeat it,’” I replied.
“We have that saying too,” she said before yawning. “Well I guess we should call it a night.” I nodded in agreement and we both headed back for the limo, to go back to the hotel for the night.
***
The next day
“Andrew I thought you said that we had to head to the airport in a few hours, why are we here?” Spitfire asked as we get off the bus.
“There’s one last thing to see,” I replied as we approached the largest structure.
“Why are we in a graveyard?”
“This is Arlington National Cemetery. The resting place for many servicemen and women of wars past and present.” We continued but I stopped for a moment, “Spits, what I’m about to say I really need you to take seriously, while the changing of the guard is taking place, please do not speak out of respect.” She nodded, “Alright then, they should be beginning soon.”
We rounded the corner to see a soldier walking from one small guardhouse to the end of what looks like a rug, turns about and walks back to the guardhouse only to repeat the same routine every minute or so.
“What is he doing?” Spitfire asked in a voice that would rival Fluttershy’s quietness.
“Guarding the tomb of the unknown soldier,” I answered in an equally quiet voice. “Watch closely because here comes the changing of the guard.” Right as I finished whispering another soldier came out and walked up to the end of the carpeting thing. The other guard met him and they exchanged salutes before the guard that had been on duty did a small rifle routine before handing it to the new guard. He mimicked it and they changed places.
“This is boring!” I head a younger male voice say. I looked over towards the disturbance and saw a fat, punkish looking teen.
I nudged Spits with my elbow and whispered, “Watch this.” She looked over just in time to see the marine who had been relieved walking over to the kid in a quickened pace. I already had my camera phone out and it was recording.
“HEY YOU! YOU SCUM SUCKING SON OF A BITCH!” the marine yelled at the kid, I could see the equivalent of the fear of God being stuck into him just from his eyes. “HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT THOSE WHO DIED FOR YOUR FREEDOM, YOU LITTLE FUCK! NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” he yelled as he pointed a white gloved hand towards the bus stop. The kid didn’t waste any time running out of there.
I nudged Spits and whispered, “Ok time to go.” We walked back to the bus which took us to where the limo was, which already had our stuff in the trunk. “To the airport.”
Bonus scene: Auld Lang Syne
New Years’ Eve, December 31, 2020
Spitfire and I sat on the couch watching the New Year’s Rockin’ Eve thing on TV with my arm around her and a blanket resting over our legs. I had a Stella Artois bottle in my free hand, about half empty I’d say, or half full depending on whether you’re a pessimist or optimist. Spitfire had one arm wrapped around my back and the other one held a glass of wine. I was sitting straight on the couch, while Spitfire was curled up on the couch.
In front of us were two champagne glasses and a bottle of ice cold bubbly ready to be opened at midnight. We were back at our house back in Vegas as we left my grandparents’ house a few days ago. I would have liked to stay, but you really can’t make concrete plans when working for the military. We were lucky that Christmas worked out and that New Year’s is at night.
“So it’s been an interesting six months, wouldn’t you agree?” Spitfire asked as she nuzzled herself into my chest a bit.
“Yes it certainly has,” I replied.
“If you would have told me last January that I would not only be married, but to an assigned bodyguard on an alien planet I would have said that you were on something,” she said taking a small sip of the wine.
“And if you would have told me that a woman would break into my house I would have believed you; but then if you added I’d be married to her then I’d probably say something along the lines of drug addiction too,” I replied. “What? Home invasions have happened before,” I said with a chuckle before taking a drink of my own beverage.
We watched the live telecast of the ball drop at Times Square. As it finished dropping the couples in the crowd started kissing and a song that I know too well started playing.
“Have I ever told you that song is one of my favorite songs from the holiday season?” I asked.
“No you haven’t. Why is it?” Spitfire asked.
“It just sounds beautiful in the original language.” We sat on the couch watching TV waiting for midnight in our own time zone. When the time hit 11:55 I leaned forward and uncorked the bottle. I poured two glasses and let them sit on the coffee table.
On the TV they were already dropping the ball slowly downtown. Then came the countdown from the entire crowd. “10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…” I grabbed Spitfire and on “Happy New Year!” I led her into a deep passionate kiss that lasted a good minute or so. When we broke the connection I simply said, “Happy New Year, Spits.”
“Happy New Year, Andrew,” she said with a slight blush to her face as she took her glass and clinked it with mine.
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Just a couple of notes on the new chapter: it's been about 10 years since I've been in Washington DC, so I'm sure there's bound to be some dependencies in the information, for that I apologize if I am wrong about anything. If there's anything that needs to be changed it will be done at a future date. Thank you.
Been to the Reflecting pool I had the same reaction as Spitfire and don't forget there was also the famous scene from Forest Gump there which is one of my most favourite movies of all time.
This bit of Forest Gump always makes me laugh.
"Come on Forest, I wanna get my sea legs on!"
"But Lieutenant Dann... You don't have no legs?"
"I know it's just a figure speech Forest."
3717848 Ah yes, one of my personal favorite movies. "Life's a bunch of chocolates, you don't know what you're going to get."
That was a good movie
3741730 You're referring to my Monty Python reference, right? If so then you are correct that it is.
3741829
Monty Python and the Holy Grail and Mr. Smith goes to Washington
3745916 I do regret not seeing Mr. Smith Goes to Washington fully. I've seen parts here and there and know that it's an old movie, but that's about all I know about it. I'll have to look it up some time in the future I guess.
Why not fly into Reagan Airport? It's about thirty miles closer than Baltimore - pretty much right across the street from the Pentagon.
The guards at Arlington are Army, not Marines.
“So why is the Washington monument the way it is?”
TWELVE STORIES HIGH MADE OF RADIATION
There are 6 people on the Iwo Jima memorial. 5 marines, and 1 navy corpsman.
5582312
And round 2 of editing begins... eventually... soon. Yeah, let's go with soon at this point in time.