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Authors: Bob Neir

Tags: #military, #seattle, #detective, #navy

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BOOK: SILENT GUNS
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None,” Grille snapped, settling
uneasily in his chair.


Trent should have surrendered by
now,” Mitchell offered.


But he hasn’t,” Simons cut in
dryly, looking sternly at Mitchell. “In case you’re curious, Bud,
the Navy blew it again!”

A door opened. Hiram entered by the back stair,
red-faced, and breathless. The Mayor waved him to the sofa and
said, “Hiram, you’re in crappy shape.”


Has the Navy caught them yet?”
Chitterman wheezed. Simons chortled, “Not yet, but they’re wearing
them out.” The Mayor exhorted, “Catch! Who wants to catch them? If
I could get close enough, I’d shoot the bastards,
myself.”


What about Trent? Aren’t we going
to call him?” Hiram interrupted, nervously glancing at his
wristwatch. “It’s three-fifteen.”


I doubt he’ll call us,” Simons’
tone carried a snap. He rose and walked to the window.

Mitchell pulled out a handkerchief and daubed his
forehead, “Let’s get this over with. I had to move my family into a
hotel this morning. People kept coming to my house. They harassed
my family, screamed and shouted, people I have known all my life.
It was frightening.”


Lucky you. Hiram and I haven’t
left City Hall, have we Hiram?” Grille said; Hiram nodded
assent.


Pay or it’s another shell, is it?
Yuk!” Chitterman looked at him and around the room. All at once he
seemed very tired, the lines around his eyes more deeply
etched.


Read it as you will, Hiram,”
Simons’ wiry eyebrows cocked themselves. “Trent doesn’t bend like a
reed with every wind that blows…I’d give an arm for a peek into his
head,” He mumbled, and then stood, hands stretched behind his back.
Ships below bustled about in the harbor, seemingly oblivious to the
ongoing drama, pursuing their daily chores; life goes on, no matter
what, he thought.


Pay! Yes, yes, of course. The
City Council agreed. We’d pay.” Hiram gave an impatient snort
followed by a nervous glance at his watch again, “don’t you think
we better get down to the radio room?”

Mitchell jumped up and pointed at Simons, “Chief,
you’re a witness. The City has agreed to guarantee the return of
the $30 million. That’s the deal. Understood. Agreed!”

Grille sighed, waved his arms and spun his chair
away, “Of course, Bud.” The Mayor turned and thrust his face
towards Simons.


Shall we call Trent, Chief? Tell
him we have the money?” Simons picked up the phone, “Frank, any
message from Trent? None. O.K. We’re coming down. The Mayor wants
to talk with him. Yeah! About ten minutes.”

They rose and exited the back stairway.

The Mayor muttered as he closed the door behind him,
“A great idea, this stair. Until now, I hated it, never knew when
Hiram was going to ‘pop up’.”

 

* * *

 

Loud voices jumbled into a cacophony of
unintelligible sounds. Overworked Police Dispatchers sat dutifully
at telephones and radio consoles taking calls and busily
dispatching units. Dispatching was a twenty-four hour a day, three
shift job. The clock spun; it was 0355. Normally, early mornings
were a quiet time, but this day was different. The late-night
robberies, the drunks, or the peeping toms, no longer merited a
response.

The public had panicked.


Yes ma’am, the TV news report is
correct. Just stay out of the downtown, ma’am,” a dispatcher
advised. “No, sir. We’re not being invaded by Martians,” a second
dispatcher replied. “Sorry. We’re only dispatching police for
emergencies.” a third said, wearily for the umpteenth
time.


It’s been like this, Chief, since
the media ran that story about the second shell,” Gonzales
reported. “We’ve been inundated, all our lines are overloaded. All
roster qualified radio operators and a couple of retiree volunteers
we can contact are coming in. The bridges are jammed with vehicles
piled high leaving the City. We haven’t blocked off any roads yet,
but we are getting reports of frightened people and short tempers.
People want to know if we are going to evacuate the City. The
Country Sheriff and neighboring Departments are sending in extra
help. What about it, Chief? Shall I call in the Guard?”


Sure, why not? Call the
Governor’s Office and get them on standby,” he mumbled vaguely as
he tried to correlate events in his mind. “Raise Trent, will
you?”

Officer Gonzales led the group into his office,
tapped a dispatcher on the shoulder, waved him out, and closed the
door. He sat down in front of a mike and activated a switch to
transmit. He deftly moved fingers over dials until the crackle
disappeared and the set hummed smoothly. Gonzales listened, nodded,
and then handed the mike to the Mayor.


Trent. Come in, Trent,” Grille
repeated and waited.

A seemingly, disembodied voice came across with a
start, “Trent here. Got the money?”


We will have it.”


When?”

The Mayor turned to Mitchell. He purposely left the
mike uncovered. “Bud, what time did you say you’d have the cash?”
Mitchell replied, “I didn’t, but the best we can do is right after
the banks close Monday.”


It’s now 0430, Saturday,” Trent
said, “I want the money in three leather, bound, belted suitcases.
Big bills, and what doesn’t fit, in one hundred thousand dollar
bearer bonds. Understand. The money is to be packaged and sealed in
waterproof wrappers. I’ll call Monday noon with delivery
instructions.”


Yes. We understand,” Mayor Joe
Grille said.


You said Monday, O.K. five
o’clock. You call off the Navy and we’ll send no more shells,”
Trent offered. “Deal?”


Deal. I’ll speak with the Navy,
I’m sure they will buy in.” The Mayor’s shoulders sagged. “The
Pentagon is madder than hell over this.”


That’s good news. You tell the
Navy if they show their faces within a mile, you’ll get a shell
within one hour. I can’t guarantee where,” Trent added.

Grille turned beet red, he twisted his head to glare
down at the inert, gray-metal mike. “You’re crazy, no one has been
killed, but to shell us again and not tell us where…you can’t be
that cold-blooded! That’s murder. Is that the way you want it?”
Trent did not answer right off.


One more thing,” Trent came on.
“I insist Admiral Burns come aboard the
Missouri
, alone.
Please extend my invitation.”


Do we still have a deal,
Mayor?”


Yes, we do,” Grille’s voiced
faded into resignation.


Good.” The radio cut
off.

Grilles’ knees shook, he appeared dazed. Hiram
promptly threw up: Mitchell stepped aside just in time.


Nice sort of a chap, isn’t he?’
said Simons. “Have you noticed how he avoids killing? A gangway
shot to splinters. A team that later boarded; one wounded,
accidentally, all released; no shots fired at the
Oriskany
,
yet snipers fired on the
Missouri
. Grenades high over the
tugs and no one hurt. Look at the
Hammann
, they could have
blown her right out of the water. One 16-inch shell would have done
the trick.”


I don’t get it, Chief?” Mitchell
was puzzled.

Simons looked over at him, “It’s simple, Bud. Trent
and his crew, they’re Navy right down to their shoe-tops. Probably,
willing to sacrifice their own lives first, if it came down to
that.”


That’s strange!” Grille looked at
them both in bewilderment. “Weird, if you ask me.” Hiram twitched
in disbelief. Sam Simons replied, “They are not murderers. After
Trent was court-martialed, his character changed, he became a
different man. He’s bitter, he seeks revenge; not his own
death.”


You’re guessing!” Mitchell
challenged him. Simons dared not say more, but he wondered what
Trent had in mind for Burns? Was this his plan all along? Wring a
confession out of him? What good would that do? His own men
wouldn’t be credible witnesses. Broadcast Burn’s confession over
the radio. Confess to what? Burns is no fool. Trent all but
admitted he lacked evidence. Simons wondered if Trent even knew
what was behind his conviction. Damn. Simons thought. Trent is
shooting from the hip.


You’re not making sense,” Hiram
said chagrined, interrupting Simon’s thoughts. “If it’s revenge
he’s after, why doesn’t he go after the people who screwed him? Why
shell innocent people?”

Simons stared at him with surprise. Rarely had
Chitterman spoke with such clarity. Somewhat flushed, Simons
stammered reaching for his own thoughts. “Maybe, because he can’t
get at them. He could be using fear is a tactic to flush them out
into the open. Fear tears people apart, turns them against each
other.” Grille looked distinctly uncomfortable, “What makes you so
sure of this theory of yours? It seems damn far-fetched.”

Simons continued, “Just hear me out. Annette has
gone back over the Navy’s court-martial records. Some names keep
showing up: Captain Proust, Admiral Farr, Admiral Kindler, Lt. Cmdr
Ryder, Lt. Cmdr. Denton, Lt. Denby, and a Lt. Cmdr. Brian Burns.
Proust and Denby are dead; Burns and Denton are still in the Navy;
Kindler and Farr are retired. Proust, Kindler and Burns did Trent
the most damage, at least according to Trent’s lawyer, an ex-Lt.
Johnson. He said they lied under oath.”


I don’t understand all this.”
Hiram grumbled.


So why is he shelling the City?”
Grille quizzed. Simon’s fended off an answer, but said, “Putting
myself in Trent’s place, I would say he needed men to help him.
They had to be men like himself who had a grudge, not necessarily
against the Navy, but who were angry, running away from something,
not desperate, but wanting to salvage something of their lives.
Hirsch was in trouble. Graves had to get out of Sparks. Harper has
eight years hanging over his head. Newby - I’m not sure, yet.
Madden, maybe just blind loyalty. The money was the hook for the
men; the money made it worthwhile, the pot of gold at the end of
the rainbow. The money meant reward, proof of their worth. These
are men with nothing to lose who sought a safe place. Men who
needed support - from each other - and the
Missouri
.”

Hiram jumped to his feet. “Ridiculous! Absolute
nonsense. Sam, you’re as mad as they are.”


What are you driving at, Chief?”
Grille asked.


I think they can be neutralized.”
Hiram huffed,


Why bother? If we’re going to pay
them off?” Grille stated. “I see. Otherwise, there’s no guarantee
we’ll recover the money, right Chief?”


Good God, how…?” Mitchell
reacted.

The Chief held a match aside and drew on his cigar.
“One man could do it. Charlie Wingate figured out how!”

Mitchell demurred coldly, “Remember, Trent warned
us, one hour after…”

Simons slumped back in his chair, “I know, but I
believe Trent intends to fire another shell, no matter what!!!”


Even if we pay off…?”


Even if we pay off!”

 

~ * * * ~

 

 

CHAPTER 24

 

 

Spewing black, ugly throat gagging diesel exhaust,
NPB#41 sat idling at the Navy Patrol Boat dock. “The
Issaquah
is late.” Charlie Wingate glanced anxiously at his
watch. “If Simons expects to get out to the
Missouri
and be
at the Admiral’s office by 1000, he’d better hurry,” CPO Harry
Wilson replied, “We’re cutting it thin as it is.”


I couldn’t get him to drive and
he hates helicopters.”

Wilson said, “Burns is in a prick-ugly mood.
Vice-Admiral Ambler watched the show this morning. Word has it his
face glowed red in the dark. What a fiasco! Burns got his ass
chewed up and down something fierce. The Vice slammed the door;
but, nobody needed ears, the walls in these old buildings are like
paper. The guys are kinda laughing about it. Burns ain’t nobody’s
favorite, and Conover don’t rate much better.”

Wilson pointed, “Here she comes, twenty minutes
late.” He made a sucking sound along the back of his teeth. “How
come you missed Conover’s de-briefing? It was grim; it got broke up
when Burns sent for him. We felt better when he left.” Charlie
Wingate wiped his chin; visions of Conover getting reamed caused
him to salivate.

The ferry slowed. Dock pilings groaned and squealed,
timbers strained but held for the hundred-thousandth time, as inch
thick steel cables stretched violin-string taut and buzzed. An
ingenious assortment of mechanical means spread the force of the
madly reversing ferry. Heavy hawsers were thrown and drawn up
around shiny cleats as the passenger ramp was quickly eased into
position. Foot traffic scurried off even before the
Issaquah
came to a complete stop. Wingate and Wilson caught Sam Simons’
eye.


What does he expect to see on the
Missouri
?” Wilson inquired.


Ask him.”

Simons stepped aboard.

A deep throated roar, a spray astern and NPB#41
moved away smartly, the dock dropped rapidly away astern. Simons
clasped his coat collar tight about his neck. As they rounded the
empty pier, where but hours ago the
Missouri
had been
moored, the battleship came into view and grew larger. Sam Simons
gawked at her massiveness with the uncomprehending awe of a
landsman. Two anchor chains, strung out like strings of pearls,
shackled to deep-buried flukes, belied her power.

BOOK: SILENT GUNS
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