LUCILLE

Twelve years ago; someplace at Mexico.

  "Look at me, Uncle Tyler," A little girl called proudly, waving from the top of the high wooden tower she had just climbed. 

"You're crazy,John." An older man said and shook his head, shading his eyes against the sun as he stared up at the replica of the high platform used for training Navy SEALS recruits.

  "Lucille could break her neck if she fell." He glanced away toward the fragile woman lying on the chaise lounge, cuddling her newborn son. 

"What about it, Maryanne? Lucille isn't even five yet, and John has her training for Special Forces," He said. 

Maryanne smiled absently and looked up at her husband as if asking his opinion. 

"Lucille's great," John said immediately, reaching to capture his wife's hand and bringing her knuckles to his lips.

  "She loves this stuff. She was doing it practically before she could walk."

  Tyler waved to the tiny girl calling to him.