It was a simple ceremony. A simple grave deep in the desert. Only they would ever know where the unmarked grave lay. Bunny had made sure that Stark blanked out all satellite feed of the area. Lying in the wooden coffin, the little girl looked like she was just sleeping. That if he reached out, he could rouse her. That he could wipe the guilt away for not saving her. For not seeing the sniper. For not being fast enough. Bunny must have read his scowl and squeezed Davidson’s hand as she put a lily inside the coffin. Davidson put his own hibiscus next to Vakasa. It was the only thing he could remember about his own mother. How she smelled of the pink flower. It seemed a fitting tribute to the little girl who had saved them all. Lopez followed. There really should have been two ceremonies today. One for Vakasa and one for Levont, but Lopez refused to declare the point man dead. “We need our drummer” was the only thing Lopez would say on the subject of Levont.
