Breaking Away (36 page)

J
ames read through the list of suggestions he and Trish were working on. He looked up when she spoke.

“If you take her to San Francisco, you’ll have to spend the night, and it will give you more uninterrupted time together,” she said. She leaned forward over the paper plate that rested on the corner of his desk and took a bite of her submarine sandwich.

Her sandy red hair, cut in a sleek cap, lay against her head. Freckles covered every inch of her skin, but didn’t detract at all from the wholesome prettiness of her features. She was a driving force behind the wives of the SEAL team members. If she ever wanted to give up her job as a social worker, she could easily run the White House. Hell, if they allowed women in the SEALs, she could probably do his job. James had never seen anyone in touch with so many people.

“She’s not very eager to leave Alex for any length of time. She even worries when I’m watching him. If I can get her out of the house to go to the beauty shop and have her hair done, a facial, a manicure and pedicure, then take her out to dinner…” James fell silent when she shook her head.

“You need to pry her out of San Diego. If we get someone really dependable to babysit, someone she can’t argue isn’t qualified to care for Alex, she won’t have an excuse not to go.”

“Who would that be?” he asked.

“Angela Melzoni. She’s a registered nurse. And she works at the Balboa Med Center. She cared for Brett Weaver when he was in a coma.” She rattled off the woman’s number. “She’d be perfect. She was also dating one of the team for a while, but I don’t think they’re together any longer. Some of the wives will wander over and visit and play with Alex too, to give Angela a break.”

He wrote down the number. “Then there’s no guarantee she’ll do it.”

“You’ll have to give her a couple of weeks’ notice, but I’m sure she will. I’d surprise Marsha with the makeover a week or so before, so she’s feeling all feminine and pampered. Then make arrangements to go somewhere out of town with her the following week. And on the off chance Angela can’t do it, give me a call. I’ll work with all the other wives, and we’ll figure something out.”

“Roger that.” He nodded. “I appreciate it.”

Trish laid her napkin atop the remnants of her meal, picked up her soft drink, and sipped it through the straw. “I think it’s great you’re doing this for her, by the way.”

Did he need to confess it was an act of desperation? “Marsha needs to decompress. I do too, and she can’t do it at home. Alex is doing much better. We just have to monitor him closely. But she rarely leaves the house. Rarely talks to the friends she used to speak to every day. It was an adjustment with the baby. She hadn’t really recovered from the birth when the break-in happened.”

“You’re doing counseling?”

“Yes.” Uncomfortable with discussing the personal aspects of their treatment, James motioned to the remnants of her food. “Would you like me to do away with that?”

“Sure.” She bundled up what was left of her sandwich and handed it to him. He tossed it in the trash with his own.

“I wish I could say it was only going to take a makeover and a trip to get her back on track, but it won’t. She’ll have to make a conscious decision that she wants to recover before it can happen,” Trish said.

“I know. I understand why she hasn’t bounced back. I had my work to come back to. She had more stress with a special needs baby to care for.”

Trish leaned forward a frown worrying her brow. “They tried to kill Alex, and they tried to kill you. The two most important people in her world. That alone would be enough to leave her with lasting issues. I know it would me. And all the hormonal issues that go along with trying to have a baby, then delivering one, probably added to it as well.”

He hadn’t thought of that. Could post and prenatal hormones be affecting her recovery? He’d ask the doctor about that the next time he spoke to him. “I appreciate your taking time to come here and help me with all this.” He leaned back in his seat. “I’ve discovered how much pressure you ladies are under while we’re deployed or injured. Marsha stood by me while I healed and cared for Alex, too. I want to do the same for her.”

“Family and friends help. Marsha’s closed herself off since Alex’s birth. I’ll put out the word, and some of the ladies can swing by and visit or call to check on her more often.”

“I think that would be a good idea. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this other stuff top secret until I get all the plans cemented.”

“Of course, Captain.” Trish rose. “I have several stops to make on the way back to the office. I better get started.”

James rose, walked her to the door and opened it for her. He could get everything arranged, but how was he going to get Marsha to the appointments? He’d figure it out. Trish had helped enough.

“If you need anything else, Captain, don’t hesitate to call,” Trish said, offering her hand.

He shook it briefly. “I will. Thank you.”

She disappeared down the hall toward the front entrance, her steps purposeful and quick.

Seaman Crouch spoke from his desk. “You have a meeting with Admiral Clarence at two, sir.”

“Thanks. Buzz me ten minutes before the meeting. I have some phone calls to make.” He couldn’t afford to be late. He only had twenty minutes of the Admiral’s time.

“Yes, sir.”

Back at his desk, James checked his email, answered a couple of messages that couldn’t wait and paused to scan the rest before closing the program. He noticed the heading of the mission in Iraq Flash had used before and opened the message. Flash had attached another group of videos and a brief message. James opened each video and scanned them quickly. More fuel for the meeting he was about to attend. His telephone calls were going to have to wait. When he got to the end of the video Flash had made of himself, James pumped the air. “I have no one else I can reach out to, sir. So, I’m trusting you’ll do the right thing,” Flash said.

Do the right thing. He’d already decided what that would be.

NCIS would step up to the plate if they had Admiral Clarence on their ass. And maybe the admiral would have some ideas about how they could save Flash’s career, too.

Thirty minutes later, before Crouch could buzz him, he walked out of his office with a folder of printed reports and a thumb-drive filled with all the info Flash had fed him. He left the building, got into his car and drove the half mile to Admiral Clarence’s office.

The two-story complex was structured much like the one he’d just left. The halls were a little wider and the offices a little more spacious, but the complex itself was still military-issue, with thick industrial tile over the concrete slab floor, and serviceable military-issue furniture. The only difference was the soundproofing in the walls between the offices. This place was quiet.

James signed in with Admiral Clarence’s administrative assistant, Ensign Winchester, and took a seat. Ten minutes passed, and for the first time in a long while, James found himself growing nervous. When Admiral Clarence opened the door and motioned him in, he rose to attention and walked forward.

Clarence stood about five foot nine, four inches shorter than James’s six-one, but his bearing and the sheer force of his commanding personality seemed to fill a room. His shock of iron gray hair fell across his forehead, though the sides were cut short. He focused on James with a slight frown.

The interior of the office, decorated much like his own, contained a heavy desk, a large bookcase, and a couple of extra chairs. A framed copy of the Pledge of Allegiance done in some kind of needlework with a flag design at the top hung on one wall. Next to it was a large Trident with the Teams’ slogan ‘The Only Easy Day Was Yesterday.’ He paused to admire both pieces.

“My wife does cross-stitch. She made those for me when I was promoted to this position two years ago.”

“They’re very nice, sir.”

“Thank you. Now what can I do for you, Captain?”

James offered him the file and the flash drive. Drawing a deep breath, he explained the situation and the files Flash had sent him.

Admiral Clarence moved around his desk and took a seat. His jaw worked as he listened.

“I’ve compiled signed affidavits from Captain Morrow and Lieutenant J.G. Carney’s teammates about Rick Dobson and Agent Gilbert’s visit to the base in Iraq. Captain Morrow spoke to them in his office about their plans. They outlined part of what they needed at that time. They followed through with Lieutenant Carney, but not with me, so his orders were not amended. But Carney says he received a packet of orders and put them in a safety deposit box here in San Diego.”

“Damn it,” Clarence breathed.

“I’ve also copied all the video files to the flash drive, and forwarded all the emails he’s sent me to you. I’ve done the same for NCIS.”

“And what have they done?”

“I’ve detailed my conversation with them for you as well. They say they are only interested in the AWOL charge.”

Admiral Clarence’s brows rose and his jaw hardened. “What do you think that’s all about?”

“I think they’re waiting for the FBI to do their job. If they have an agent who’s gone off the reservation, they’re not going to reach out to another federal organization to investigate. But NCIS can’t bring Carney in without exposing him to retaliation from Gilbert and the cartel. It’s become a Catch-22 situation, sir.”

“Leaving your man twisting in the wind.”

“Yes, sir. I have spoken in depth with Carney’s commanding officer, and his teammates. They all believe that he was acting in good faith with Dobson and Gilbert. They’ve all said he would not abandon his post. He’s had an exemplary record under my command, sir. I don’t believe he would, either.”

“What do you propose we do, Captain?”

“We need to get the AWOL charge amended if we can. Initiate orders where he is acting in concert with NCIS so they can enter the investigation through the back door he’s created.”

“But we don’t know where he is, and neither does NCIS.”

James moistened his lips. He’d spent the ten minutes waiting to see the Admiral, debating whether or not to share Flash’s message with anyone. “Flash reached out to me today, saying he wants to meet.”

“Tell me you haven’t notified NCIS,” Admiral Clarence demanded.

“No, sir. I wanted to wait until I’d met with you.”

“Good. Where does he want to meet?”

“Las Vegas. In two weeks.”

Sam eased up to the bathroom doorway and peeked around the edge to check on Joy. Joy played in the bathtub, her plastic mermaid doll in one hand and Barbie in the other. Instead of being upset about her Barbie’s hair change, she’d wanted to turn her into a mermaid with technicolor locks.

Joy shoved Barbie under the water and brought her back up onto the edge of the tub. She spoke for Barbie. “I can dive deeper than you.” In her Mermaid voice, Joy disagreed, “No you can’t. I’m a real mermaid, you’re only a pretend mermaid.” Joy bobbed Barbie across the edge of the tub in her leg-hugging pink fins designed from an old bathroom curtain. “I am too a real mermaid. And I can dive deeper than you. All you can do is sit on your rock.” In a voice tinged with snippy attitude, Mermaid said. “But I can sit on my rock at the bottom of the ocean. All you can do is dive in the bathtub.”

Sam clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud and slipped away from the door. What would she do without her little girl? She was the one thing guaranteed to make her smile. Well, almost the only thing.

She glanced at her watch. Two hours and Tim would be coming over to follow up on the training they’d begun. He’d gone over more of the basics the night before and even made her try and attack him. Something she’d never dreamed she could do. At first she’d been afraid of hurting him, but he’d avoided her kicks and punches with ease. His concentration had given her an insight into how he must have been in the service. All business. Thoroughly professional.

On one hand she’d been grateful he was so focused, and on another she’d wanted to do something to break through all his control and focus his intensity on something else. Each time they practiced they ended with a few brief moments of closeness, but so far her fear had her backing off each time. It had to be as frustrating to him as it was to her.