Lean on Me (9 page)

“
Sir, they are armed,” a
Navy SEAL said.

“
Stand down,” Alex said.
“Do not approach. They will kill you sooner than you can say
hello.”

Recognizing one of the men, Trece stiffened
as they got closer. Alex put her hand on his shoulder to steady
him.

“
Gots permission for
three,” the man with the stiff knee said in an almost English
accent. “Where’s Abreu?”

“
He didn’t make it,” Alex
said.

“
Too bad,” the man said.
“He was going to bring me a sketch of Dura-Europas. Did you hear
they found an even older church in Jordan?”

“
I didn’t,” Alex said. “But
I have the sketch he made for you. May we get out?”

“
Only three,” the other man
said in the not quite English, not quite Irish accent of High Tide
Brogue.

“
Captain Ramirez is with
me,” Alex said. “Trece? Can you pick another?”

“
Is one of these Air Force
boys the Jakker?” the man with the bad knee asked.

As if he was in elementary school, Zack
raised his hand.

“
Nice to meet you,” the man
said. “I used to fly a plane or two in my day. This your
co-pilot?”

Zack nodded toward Cliff.

“
Bring ‘em both,” the other
man said. “They’ll keep us entertained while we wait.”

“
Sir?” the senior Navy SEAL
asked Alex.

“
Their rules,” Alex
shrugged. Leaning over to get her backpack, she added, “Stay with
the boat. If you don’t hear anything or see one of us in an hour,
make the call.”

“
Yes sir,” the senior Navy
SEAL said.

“
Come on now,” the bent man
with the beard said.

He held out a hand to Alex and helped her
onto the dock. For all his bent over act, his grip was firm and
steady. He gave her a big smile and patted her back.

“
Always nice to see you,
Alexandra,” he said. “How’s Max?”

“
Feisty as ever,” Alex
smiled.

Trece, Zack and Cliff left the speed boat
and followed them down the dock.

“
Good to hear,” the bearded
bent-over man said. With Trece ahead, he walked by her side. “Heard
he’s working with Pershing.”

“
I wouldn’t know,” Alex
said.

The man laughed at what was clearly a joke.
She smiled.

“
The beard is inspiring,”
Alex said.

“
I knew you’d like it,” the
man flushed a little. “Combed it this morning just for
you.”

“
Stop flirting,” the man
with the locked knee said. “We’ve got to get going. Do you have
what he wants?”

Alex nodded.

“
Really?” the man with the
locked knee said.

Alex nodded. He held out his hand and the
bent over man gave him a hundred dollar bill. They approached an
old, rusted Ford Bronco.

“
New car?” Alex
asked.

“
My car,” the man with the
locked knee said. “Did it myself, thank you.”

Alex smiled.

“
In the back,” the bearded
bent man said to Zack, Trece and Cliff. “You too
Hargreaves.”

Trece and Cliff went to the back, leaving
Zack and Alex in the middle seat. There was a piece of bullet
resistant Lexan behind the front seat. Trece took a breath to start
one of his stories.

“
You’d better not,” Alex
said. “We don’t really know what’s going to happen.”

He nodded. They drove in silence through the
island until they reached the end of Mullins Drive. The Bronco
stopped at a locked gate. The man with the locked knee hopped out
of the car and made an easy jog to the gate.

“
Hey, I thought his knee
was bad?” Cliff asked.

“
Nothing is how it seems,”
Alex said. “Hang on!”

He unlocked the gate and they drove through,
leaving the man behind. They continued forward on a rutted sand
road. They drove to the right and then abruptly to the left. The
bouncing Bronco flew across the sand. They passed over bridged
ocean tributaries and splashed through small breaks in the sand bar
until they were under the deep trees. They pulled up to another
locked gate. A deep-colored young man came around the Bronco. He
took pictures of everyone in the back of the Bronco with a smart
phone and retreated into a small house by the sand path. They
waited another few minutes before he returned. He and the driver
spoke for a few minutes in the nearly unintelligible dialect of
Gullah. The young man nodded and went to open the gate.

“
What’s going on?” Trece
whispered.

“
He checked our identities
through a facial recognition app. He’ll send the request for our
visit to the house,” Alex repeated what she read on the young man’s
lips. “We’re approved but he will only see me. The driver is going
to take you to the kitchen. I’m going to see him.”

“
Chicken and pie?” Zack
asked.

“
She does make the best
pie,” Alex said.

“
And fried chicken,” Zack
licked his lips.

“
Who?” Trece shifted
uncomfortably.

“
There are no names here.
They call her “Mammy” like something out of Gone with the Wind,”
Alex said. “I’ve heard they are all descendents of the Harkers and
their slaves. Their accent is actually a dialect called High Tide
Brogue.”

“
It sounds almost Irish or
English,” Zack said. “Takes a while to get the hang of.”

“
And the language the boy
was speaking?” Trece asked.

“
Gullah,” Alex said. “It’s
a language South Carolina slaves developed. Almost no one speaks
old Gullah anymore.”

The Bronco made a sharp right into a long
groomed driveway. A two-story home appeared ahead.

“
We’re approaching the home
of a man you might recognize,” Alex said. “He has residences all
over the world. This is his true home and his true family. I will
tell you that only three other outsiders have been to this home –
Ben, Steve Pershing, and the General. Consider yourself lucky and
be a little afraid. The fact that he’s allowing us here means
something terrible is going on.”

The Bronco pulled to a stop at the
house.

“
I’ve only been here
twice,” Alex said.

“
That’s what I don’t get,”
Zack said. “Why are you desperate enough to come here?”

“
At least eight experienced
field teams have disappeared,” Alex said. “There is no trace of
what mission they were on, what they were supposed to do, or where
they might be. For all intents and purposes, they’ve
vanished.”

“
Including G.I. Joe,” Trece
nodded.

“
Sergeant Larry Flagg and
Marine Captain Heath Walker,” Alex said. “We need to find out
what’s going on.”

A large-cheeked, round-bodied woman came to
the front door and waved. The driver of the Bronco let them out of
the vehicle. They walked down a brick path past an ancient rose
garden and plush green lawn to the house. The smell of the roses
caught the warm wind and Alex felt as if she was walking on a
carpet of their perfume.

“
Here we go,” Alex stepped
into the house.

FFFFFF
Sunday morning

October 25 – 7:30 a.m. EDT

Fredericksburg Police Station,
Fredericksburg, PA

After waiting for more than an hour, three
men came into the small interrogation room. Troy, the Army JAG, and
the criminal defense lawyer stood up.

“
Please sit,” the
Fredericksburg detective said. “As you know, I’m Detective Young.
This is Agent Platt of the FBI and Senior Field Agent Snypes of
Army CID.”

“
Hawkins Mac Alister,” the
criminal defense lawyer shook the men’s extended hands.

“
Captain Tyler,” the Army
JAG lawyer said. “Nice to see you again Senior Agent
Snypes.”

“
We’ve worked together on a
number of cases,” Senior Field Agent Snypes said. “On both sides of
the table.”

The more the men smiled and shook each
other’s hands, the more nervous Troy became. The detective glanced
at him. Troy let out a breath. At least they weren’t all on the
same team.

“
There are more agencies
and agents behind the glass,” Detective Young said. “Captain
Olivas, I believe you’ve been read your Miranda rights.”

“
That’s correct.” Hawkins
Mac Alister took his position as lead attorney.

“
I want to say something
right off the bat,” Troy said. “I don’t have anything to
hide.”

“
Why do you have your
lawyers here?” Senior Field Agent Snypes asked.

“
My CO told me to bring
them,” Troy said.

“
And you always do what
your CO tells you to do?” FBI Agent Platt asked.

“
Yes,” Troy said. “Don’t
you?”

“
If you don’t have anything
to hide, Captain,” Detective Young said. “Why can’t we get a bio on
you?”

“
Oh right,” Troy gave an
impish smile. “I can’t talk about my work, either past or
present.”

“
I have brought copies of a
synopsis of Captain Olivas’s biography,” Army JAG Captain Tyler
said.

“
Sanitized,” the FBI agent
said, after looking at the document.

“
You can’t get his bio
either?” Senior Field Agent Snypes asked.

The FBI agent shook his head.

“
Captain Olivas works on a
classified military team,” Army JAG Captain Tyler said. “We don’t
believe Captain Olivas’s work has anything to do with your
investigation. If there is information from his work that overlaps
this case, I’ll be happy to make the appropriate phone calls for
any information you request in writing.”

“
Just curious,” Detective
Young said. “You’re a hard man to get a handle on. Your father
claims you’re a foot soldier assigned to Iraq. He’s told more than
one news outlet that you’re his brilliant ne’er-do-well son with
serious mental health issues. But Senior Field Agent Snypes can get
full backgrounds on foot soldiers with mental health issues. Hell,
I can.”

“
I’ve brought copies of
Captain Olivas’s last evaluations,” Army JAG Captain Tyler said.
“He must take these tests every six months in order to maintain his
current position.”

“
Wow,” Detective Young
said. “Is your IQ really 187?”

“
If it says so,” Troy said.
“It doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“
Profilers say that people
who are that smart are crazy psychopaths,” FBI Agent Platt
said.

“
I’m a Green Beret, sir,”
Troy said. “Psychopaths either test out or get recruited for other
services. You can see on the bio he gave you that I’ve spent most
of my career in South and Central America. I have only been to Iraq
once, and that was in the last year. I was in Afghanistan and
Pakistan for the first time last month.”

Detective Young set the papers down on the
table and looked at him. Troy felt the man assess his very soul.
Detective Young shrugged.

“
Have some trouble with
your father?” Detective Young asked.

“
Yes, sir,” Troy
said.

“
Me too,” Detective Young
said. “How about you Platt?”

The FBI agent gave Detective Young a steely
look.

“
You don’t have to ask me,”
Army CID Special Agent Snypes laughed. “The entire western United
States is too small for my father and me. And I know you and your
pops hate each other Tyler.”

“
My father’s dead,” Hawkins
Mac Alister said. The men turned to look at him. Smiling, he said,
“Thank God.”

Troy looked from face to laughing face. He
wasn’t sure what was going on but he didn’t think it was something
bad.

“
Your father?” Detective
Young’s face went from laughing to dead serious. “He’s a serious
prick among pricks.”

The other men nodded.

“
We have stacks of paper on
you, Olivas. And now more paper,” Detective Young said. “Help us
fill in the blanks. We’ll ask questions when we need
to.”

“
The blanks?” Troy asked.
“You mean like I met Dahlia in Sophomore Geometry class? She wasn’t
very good at math but she was very pretty. She had this tiny piece
of blonde hair that curled right at the nape of her neck when her
hair was up. I was forced to rescue her…”

“
While that’s very
interesting,” Army CID Special Agent Snypes said. “We agreed to
start at April of this year.”

F

CHAPTER six

Sunday morning

October 25 – 7:45 a.m. EDT

Harkers Island, North Carolina

“
I think you’re skinnier
than you were the last time I saw you,” Mammy said. Her deep voice
came out in High Tide Brogue.

Alex could only smile. This life-toughened
woman radiated love. Mammy held out her arms and Alex was all but
engulfed in her soft folds. Mammy kissed her forehead.

“
How is your handsome
husband?” Mammy asked.

“
Handsome,” Alex smiled.
“He and Max are running the marathon today.”

“
You like the crazy ones?”
Mammy peered into Alex’s face and leaned back to laugh. “I do
too.”