‘A car accident? Why didn’t you phone me?’
He shrugged. ‘It’s been a hectic couple of days.’
The waitress returned and placed their drinks on the table. ‘Are you ready to order yet?’
‘Oh,’ Victoria began, suddenly remembering the menu in front of her. ‘It’s so hard to find something that won’t upset my diet plan.’
‘Diet plan? You’re the last person who needs a diet.’
It was her turn to blush this time. ‘You’re sweet.’
Aaron glanced at the menu’s specials section. ‘I’ll have the corned beef hash with eggs,’ he said, passing the menu back to the waitress.
‘Can I just have a plain bagel?’ Victoria asked.
The waitress scribbled onto her pad again, without speaking, before grabbing both menus and sauntering to the kitchen.
‘Friendly place,’ Aaron commented.
‘Would you rather go somewhere else?’ she asked, a look of concern growing on her face.
‘No, no, it’s fine. I was just messing. I’m not sure my stomach would tolerate me leaving without eating first.’
‘Oh good,’ she said, looking relieved.
‘Are you going to tell me why we’re here? You said there was someone you wanted me to meet?’
She nodded eagerly.
‘Well, who is he?’
‘Would you like to meet him?’
‘Sure, okay, I guess. Where is he?’
‘You mean you don’t recognise him?’
Aaron frowned. ‘Recognise whom?’
Victoria waved her arm outwards. Aaron followed the movement.
‘You mean he’s here? Now?’
Victoria nodded excitedly, like a giddy child on Christmas morning.
Aaron stood up so he could get a better view of the other patrons. Only one other booth was occupied. The old man and woman sitting there were busy chatting and looked like they practically lived at the diner. One of the waitresses was standing near them talking freely. The three men sitting at the counter were all wearing sand-coloured, short sleeve shirts, and sported shaved heads; presumably military men connected to the naval base.
‘I don’t recognise anyone,’ Aaron said, retaking his seat.
Victoria looked disappointed, but pushed away any doubts. ‘Felix,’ she called out.
Aaron watched as one of the men at the counter stood up and walked over.
‘Aaron Cross,’ Victoria said, ‘meet Felix Cruz. Felix, this is Aaron.’
‘Great to meet you,’ Cruz said, thrusting a hand out; a Hispanic twang to his local accent.
‘You too,’ Aaron said cautiously, shaking his hand.
Victoria shuffled closer to the window, allowing Cruz to join them. He was at least six feet tall, with a slim build and clean shaven chin. His skin tone almost matched his shirt.
Aaron remained silent whilst he waited for Victoria to explain who Cruz was. She was grinning giddily again, nodding occasionally.
I don’t get it,’ Aaron eventually said. ‘I’m sorry, Felix is it, but I have no idea who you are.’
‘You don’t think he looks familiar?’ Victoria pressed.
Aaron shrugged. ‘Is he a celebrity in these parts or something? I’m sorry, I really don’t follow show business.’
‘Aaron,’ Victoria eventually sighed, ‘this is your cousin. Felix is Troy’s son.’
Aaron looked at Cruz, before returning his gaze to Victoria. ‘I’m sorry, what?’
‘Don’t you see that family resemblance? This is Troy’s other son.’
‘What other son? Troy didn’t have another son. He had two children: Harry and Toby. He never once mentioned a third child. This is ridiculous, Victoria.’
‘It’s true,’ Cruz interrupted. ‘Troy was my father.’
‘Listen, pal,’ Aaron began with a grimace on his face. ‘I don’t know who you think you are, dragging my uncle’s name through the mud, but I don’t have the time for this kind of nonsense. Why don’t you tell me exactly who you really are, before I drag you outside and beat it out of you?’
Cruz glanced nervously at Victoria.
‘Aaron, he really is your cousin…Troy told me that you didn’t know and he made me swear never to tell you. The thing is: you and Felix need each other now. I’m sure this has come as a shock to you, but…’
‘A shock?’ Aaron shouted. ‘This is bull shit! Troy would never have cheated on my Aunt Marilyn; he was a good man.’
Cruz pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, flattened it out and passed it across the table.
‘What’s this?’ Aaron asked, though he already knew.
‘It’s my birth certificate,’ Cruz replied. ‘It lists Troy Cross as my father.’
‘Just because it’s written on a piece of paper, doesn’t make it true,’ Aaron said, pushing the certificate away dismissively.
Cruz carefully refolded the paper, before opening his wallet and removing a photograph. He handed it to Aaron. ‘This is me and my dad when I graduated from the Academy.’
Aaron caught his breath as he saw the smiling face of his dead uncle staring back at him. ‘I…I…uh…’
‘Let me explain,’ Victoria said, reaching out and taking Aaron’s hand in her own. ‘Troy wasn’t proud of what happened, which was why he could never bring himself to explain the truth to you or the others. Troy was briefly stationed in California in 1987. One night while on shore leave, he came across a woman who was being attacked by three local thugs. Troy being Troy, he interrupted the attack and frightened the thugs away. He took the woman to the hospital and stayed with her for several days whilst she recovered from the ordeal. The woman was so grateful for the kindness that he had showed her that…well…you know. It was a one night stand, and the next day Troy returned to his ship and he never expected to hear from the woman ever again. He was full of remorse and was ashamed that he had been unfaithful to his family. What he didn’t know at the time was that the woman had fallen pregnant. She knew your uncle was part of the British navy and she eventually made contact a couple of years later and told him she had given birth to a son. Troy was devastated by the news, but knew he had to do the right thing, so he returned to California to meet the woman. He vowed that he would support the child financially and would try and visit whenever he could.’
‘He visited me on my birthday every year until I was sixteen,’ Cruz chimed in. ‘I understood that he had a family elsewhere and that he wasn’t able to introduce us. After he left the navy, he began to spend more time with me. He’s the reason I signed up in the first place.’
Aaron looked back at the photo. Victoria was right: Cruz certainly resembled Troy. ‘I can’t believe he never told us about any of this.’
‘He loved your aunt dearly,’ Victoria continued. ‘He never forgave himself for cheating on her, but he knew it wasn’t Felix’s fault.’
‘My mother adopted his name, well, the Spanish version of it, because he had saved her life. He never slept with her again. You should know that. It was only ever that one night.’
‘I don’t know what to say,’ Aaron admitted.
‘You don’t need to say anything,’ Cruz replied. ‘It doesn’t matter whether you believe I am Troy’s son or not. What matters is: I believe it, and I’m not prepared to sit idly by whilst the men who killed him go free. I think I know who ordered his death. Are you going to help me find justice for Troy?’
28
Justice for Troy.
That’s how this whole adventure had begun. The moment Aaron had read Troy’s final letter to Harry, this path had been set in motion.
Dearest Harry, it is with a heavy heart that I am writing you this email. I desperately want to speak with you and Toby; to hear your voices, but it is late and you are probably asleep.
I believe my life may be in grave danger. I cannot tell you why as I do not wish to put you in harm’s way. I do not want you to grieve for me for long. I have had a good life and I was blessed to meet your
mother and to raise two such wonderful children. It has been my honour. Truly. There is so much you do not know about me and, if I am lucky, you will never discover half of the things I have done. I need you to understand that everything I have done, I did it for you and for Toby, so that you can lead a better life than I did.
I need you to understand that, if you learn of my passing in the coming days or weeks, no accident has befallen me. If I am dead, know that somebody has caused the situation. I will not die of natural causes or suffer an accident, even if that is what you are told.
I want you to know that you are not in any danger. I have been very careful to keep you out of this. I need you to look after Toby when I am gone. He will find it difficult to cope and he will be reliant on you for support. I need you to be strong for him, and to make it your life’s duty to protect him. That is the last thing I will ask of you.
My estate will be split four ways. You will receive thirty percent of all my possessions to do with what you want. Please spend the money wisely. I have placed thirty percent for Toby in trust until his eighteenth birthday. Teach him how to be careful with money and not to abuse the privilege. The remaining forty percent will be split between your cousin, Aaron and a friend of mine who has been loyal to me over the last few years. I will endeavour to get my will forwarded to you once I am gone. Provision has already been made for this.
Whatever you do, do not seek vengeance for what happens to me. That path is laden with trouble that you do not need and would struggle to handle. Grieve for me as you must, and then move on with your lives.
I have been honoured to know you, Harry, God speed!
Reading the email on the day of the funeral had started churning the wheels of Aaron’s subconscious. They had been told that Troy had drowned when he had fallen overboard, yet he had been a champion swimmer during his time in the Royal Navy. The line, ‘do not seek vengeance’ had been like waving a red flag at a bull. It was why he had been unable to settle down with Nazir, and it was why he had risked life and limb to be here today.
‘Well?’ Cruz asked. ‘Are you going to help me catch the men who killed my father?’
Aaron looked at him. There was a determination in Cruz’s eyes that Aaron recognised immediately; it was the same look he saw in the mirror every morning.
The waitress returned to the table with their meals, and Aaron and Victoria began to eat voraciously. Cruz continued to sip his coffee in silence.
Aaron finished the last of his eggs and pushed the plate away. ‘Victoria told me you think you know who arranged Troy’s death? I met the man who was hired to kill him, but I want the names of the men who hired him. He was a professional assassin; did you know that? He tried to kill me too in a bus bomb back in May.’
‘Victoria told me, yes. She also said you had a hand in his death. I hope he suffered.’
‘Not as much as he deserved,’ Aaron sighed. ‘I’m sure the person who hired him is the same person responsible for the terrorist attack on Southampton last May. Tell me what you know.’
The two other men who had been sitting at the counter with Cruz had left the diner, only the elderly couple in the far booth remained. Cruz decided it was safe enough to talk. ‘I used to work at the Pentagon,’ he began, his voice not much more than a whisper.
‘The Pentagon? Doing what?’ Aaron asked.
‘What do you think? Naval intelligence of course. It’s the headquarters for the entire U.S. Department of Defence. Approximately twenty four thousand people work in that building, across a variety of different work streams and military services.’
‘What did your job involve? Are you allowed to say?’
‘I was part of a team responsible for internal defence operations.’
‘I don’t understand; what does that mean?’
Cruz leaned forward. ‘It means we were responsible for monitoring internal communications; we were spying on our own people.’
‘I thought that’s what Homeland Security did?’
‘They do…we focused on a particular group of people: politicians, senior military officials, that kind of thing.’
‘And?’
‘And I was very good at my job. Last year I received a commendation for my efforts.’
‘What does this have to do with Troy?’
‘I’m getting to that…part of the role involved intercepting telephone conversations and email traffic. What we were doing was not strictly within the rules of the constitution, but we had special dispensation signed by the President himself. The intelligence we gathered was not admissible in a court of law, however, it was used to highlight persons of interest. I think the team was originally established at the height of the Cold War, but since 9/11, the budget for the department has been ramped up. Believe it or not, there are a lot of cynical people on Capitol Hill. Anyway, I was working late one night, covering for a colleague who was unwell. It had been a relatively quiet week, and I was reviewing a stack of emails sent out from the White House. These included inter-departmental communications as well as private emails sent from staff. As I said, what we did wasn’t strictly constitutional. As I was working through the pile, I came across one which stood out. It had been sent from an internal White House account to the account owner’s personal email, which is generally frowned upon. What made it stand out was that the wrong encryption level had been used. What I read made no sense. It was details of a presidential inauguration speech.’
‘Why’s that so odd?’
‘It had been written for Senator Joseph D’Angelo.’
‘And? He’s about to be sworn in, isn’t he? Who sent the email?’
‘The former White House Chief of Staff.’
‘I’m sorry, Felix, I’m not familiar with your politics. Why is that so significant?’
‘Okay, it’s not unprecedented for an employee of one administration to jump ship and join the incoming team. It’s unusual when it’s the Chief of Staff, but not unheard of. Ordinarily, it’s the kind of secret we would file away, and not follow up.’ Cruz took a sip of coffee whilst he waited for his point to sink in. When he saw Aaron looking blankly at him, he continued. ‘I was holding evidence that Senator Joseph D’Angelo was set to be announced as the forty-sixth man to be elected President of the United States.’
‘So you’re saying there is a conspiracy to get a man elected President. That’s newsworthy but hardly surprising, right?’
‘You’re missing my point, Aaron. The email I found was sent in mid-October. President McHale didn’t announce he was stepping down until November eighth.’
‘Okay, so someone got hold of the medical reports confirming McHale’s tumour. As I said, it’s not surprising.’
‘McHale didn’t undergo tests until late October, Aaron. How did the existing White House Chief of Staff know that President McHale would be diagnosed with a tumour weeks before the tests had even been requested?’
Aaron paused to consider the question.
‘Do you understand now?’ Cruz pressed.
‘How is that even possible? Was McHale showing signs? What led to him requesting the tests originally?’
‘The tumour was spotted during a routine health check. The tests were ordered following the check-up. The only way he could have known in advance is if…,’ Cruz leaned closer again, ‘is if they somehow manipulated the situation.’
‘Wait, you’re suggesting that someone caused McHale to develop a tumour?’
‘No, not necessarily. Maybe there isn’t a tumour at all.’
‘You think the Chief Medical Officer is involved?’
‘Maybe, maybe not. It doesn’t matter. The email I found is the smoking gun.’
‘Do you still have it? Did you report what you found?’
‘That’s just it, Aaron. Yes I did. I sat on the email at first, not realising what it was. But the day McHale addressed the public to step down, that’s when I realised what was going on. I took it to my XO and he said he would look into it. The next thing I k
now, I’m being transferred to the base here in Fallon.’
‘Did they give you any kind of reason for the transfer?’
‘They cited underperformance issues.’
‘Did they have grounds to transfer you?’
‘No! I told you: my work was exemplary. I’ve been stuck on menial duties since I got here.’
‘How long ago was that?’
‘Coming up to four weeks. Don’t you think the timing’s off?’
‘Have you raised it with your new XO?’
‘I’ve tried, but he won’t give me the time of day. It’s like everyone’s been told to ignore me. I even tried going to the base commander, but was threatened with disciplinary action if I continued to act up. They’ve got me monitoring the fucking base security cameras. A fucking monkey could do the job!’
‘You said you’re at the base here in Fallon? What goes on at the base?’
‘It’s the navy's premier air-to-air and air-to-ground training facility. You saw the film Top Gun? Well that school’s based here now. It’s where they train the navy’s best fighter pilots. They train the Navy SEALs here too.’
‘So there’s no naval intelligence operations here?’
‘Not that I’m involved in. I’m about as far from my old division as I could be, without being transferred abroad.’
‘So you think your transfer was because you discovered that email? You’re certain there’s no other reason they would have moved you?’
‘Certain.’
‘Who did the email belong to?’
‘The White House Chief of Staff, a guy called Browning.’
‘And would this Browning have the authority to order your transfer?’
‘No, not directly…but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know somebody who could. God knows how far this conspiracy stretches. I mean, how powerful would you need to be to arrange a presidential reshuffle?’
‘Do you know how paranoid you sound right now?’
‘You don’t believe me?’ Cruz exclaimed.
‘No, that’s not what I said. Do you have any evidence? What happened to Browning’s email?’
Double Cross: A gripping political thriller (The Cadre Book 3) Page 18