Black Angel

by Jack Dayton

  “Yeah, we were moving out on him,” Vance answered as they walked through the inches-deep snow.”

  “Did you see him toss anything, drop anything as he ran?”

  “No, sir. He was turning the corner to the furthest section by the time we got here but we thought we had him closed in by the fence.” The Gunny curved his arm to the left, showing the direction of their chase.

  “So there’s no access to the train bridge without climbing a fence?”

  “Roger that . . . yeah, there’s a gate there but it’s locked.”

  Dozier eyes ranged over the parking lot. “Let’s go at this from the back. C’mon.”

  He took off at a trot backtracking toward the station platform. They got there quickly and dropped down on to the tracks. Using the flashlight, they moved quickly and found the access road on the other side of the tracks. Vance slowed their pace to show Dozier the tracks they would be following back to the bridge.

  “The tracks start here and go back to the bridge but it looks like he got out by going down the tracks.”

  “Okay, that makes sense.”

  They walked down the tracks noting the bootprints along the ties, already being softened by the continuing snowfall. About 400 feet down the track the bootprints left the tracks and left deep indentations behind the Staff Non-Commissioned Officer Academy. The flashlight showed the big steps used to get down the near side of the gorge and the scramble up the hill across the gorge.

  “Hold on.” Dozier grabbed his radio. “Chief, Dozier here. Come back.”

  A pause and then “Chief here.”

  “Yeah, Chief, we found some tracks that cross the gorge behind the Staff NCO Academy. Looks like somebody used that access to get away. Over.”

  “Copy that. Will send somebody over to the Academy to check out if they lead anywhere. Over.”

  “Roger. Out.”

  They backtracked and followed the tracks to the bridge, finding both the original tracks and Vance’s.

  “There’s two sets of tracks here,” Dozier noted.

  “Yeah, these are mine here. I tried not to disturb the others,” Vance explained.

  As they approached the bridge, Dozier cast the light from the flash ahead looking for the rope. At first Vance thought that maybe the snow was covering it but then he saw another set of tracks approaching the bridge from the other side. Someone had come back for the rope and managed to take it away. The tracks led to a spot where someone had parked a car on the access road and then left. Dozier took pictures of the car tracks, bootprints, everything around the train bridge. The rope was cut leaving a short tail hanging down, the rest gone.

  “How’d you get up here?” Dozier wanted to know.

  “I’ll show you.” Vance led him to the staircase on the opposite side of the bridge and they walked down to Martin Street. The boot prints on the wall were fading fast so Dozier took more pictures. “We’re going to need to get some tape up here. Let me call the Chief.”

  Within minutes a crew arrived with lights, tape and sophisticated photographic equipment. Vance took them back through the route and they took dozens of pictures. “Bull,” yelled another agent.

  “Yeah,” he called out.

  “Bull, Chief says that they want to talk to the Gunny before he leaves.”

  Dozier looked at Vance. “You mind?”

  “Naw, I’ll head over there unless you need me for anything else.”

  “Not now. I may need you after we get all the data we can here.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can to help. Just let me know.”

  The gunny went back to the terminal to find the scene only slightly less chaotic. Apparently more people saw what happened than anyone realized. Gunny waited for a break. The Chief saw him and motioned him over.

  “Gunny, thanks for circling back.”

  “No problem. What do you need?”

  “Gunny, you said that you were in the terminal and came out after the perpetrator pushed Sergeant Seelbach.”

  “Right.”

  “So you never saw the actual moment when he pushed Sergeant Seelbach in front of the train.”

  “Right.”

  The Chief sighed. “Okay, then, we may need to ask Dr. Quinn and Lance Corporal to come back in.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Ideally, yeah. Do you know where they might be?”

  “Well, I think I do. Can I go get them and bring them in?”

  “If you can help us out it would be appreciated. We are stretched pretty thin.”

  “I got this.” Gunny got up and was out the door in seconds.

  He made it to Sam’s quickly and walked into the warmth and familiarity of the Quantico landmark. The place was packed and he found them along the wall at a table for four. He walked over and sat down next to Casper.

  “Gunny, thank God. How’d it go?” Avery asked. She had a glass of wine in front of her and was looking exhausted, stray strands of hair drooping down next to her face.

  “They are all over the train bridge now and are gonna check out where we think he got away, behind the Academy. They are going to try to track where he went after he came up out of the gorge. The snow doesn’t help.” Gunny paused. “The Chief asked me to see if you would be willing to go back for a few questions. Tonight.”

  Casper didn’t react but Avery couldn’t refrain. “Tonight?”

  “Yeah, tonight.”

  Casper finally spoke. “Did he say what he wanted to talk to us about?”

  “No but they finished with everyone else so I think something came out that they think you might be able to help them with. I’m just guessing, okay. You got something else for him, Ghost?”

  “I don’t know, Gunny.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  Casper tilted his head and screwed his face in a way that betrayed a sense of something befuddling.

  “What is it, Ghost?”

  “I don’t know, Gunny. Just a weird thing . . . I don’t know if it means anything.”

  “Spit it out, Casper.”

  “Just . . . it’s like he pushed him by accident.”

  “What do you mean ‘pushed him by accident?’”

  Ghost shook his head. “I don’t know . . . it was like he was shoving him but when Sergeant Seelbach turned his head to look at him, it was like he froze but it was too late. Sergeant was already falling in front of the train.”

  Vance’s shock registered immediately.

  Quinn was subdued. “That’s true. I hadn’t thought of it until now but there was this half second when he was grabbing, pushing and then like he stopped and he was caught off guard. But it was too late.”

  Vance resisted the thought that pushed itself into his mind. “All you can do is tell them what you saw.”

  They were about to leave when a looming presence stood between Vance and the front door. A tall gunnery sergeant blocked the aisle, hands on hips. “Tell me whatcha gon’ do?” His voice came out intentionally loud enough to be heard over the buzz of the crowd.

  “Act a fool,” Vance answered without pause, a smile crossing his face. “Damn, Pike, what the hell are you doing in Quantico?”

  “Checkin’ on you, Deacon. What else would I be doing at this excuse for a Marine Corps base?”

  “You are a sight for sore eyes, man,” Vance managed as he grabbed Gunnery Sergeant Cornelius Pike in a hug. Pike was a minor celebrity in the Marine Corps, based partially on his appearance in a YouTube video that highlighted his almost preternatural strength. One summer when he was assigned to Officer Candidate School as a company drill sergeant, one of the other drill sergeants had issued a challenge. The video captured what ensued. Two marines set one of the logs that the candidates use for training on its end. With the candidates as witnesses, Pike went into a crouch, grasped the end, his oversized arms straining the fabric of his black t-shirt, and launched the 175-pound, 20-foot log ten feet cleanly in the air, landing nearly 40 feet away. Pike turned, both arms in the
air, showing the only smile the candidates saw that whole long summer. The collective whoops that went up turned to cheers as the show ended and he recovered the stern visage of the unforgiving drill sergeant.

  That was only part of his reputation. Like Vance, he had a storied history as a warfighter. His most noteworthy exploit was detailed in a book written by an embedded New York Times reporter who described the fire fight a Marine unit faced in Ramadi. The reporter watched - while hugging flat to the ground behind the smallest of covered positions, thinking he had mere moments to live - while then-Sergeant Pike maneuvered to his pinned down platoon, with absolute focus and calm. With the command of a 4th quarter quarterback, Pike directed the fires and movement of the young 18- and 19-year old Marines. The young men repulsed the attack, carried a counter-attack back and through the insurgent ambush site. Every one of those Marines came home safe from that deployment, one small happy ending in that reporter’s book on the war in Iraq in 2007. His courage and resolve were the stuff of stories that had been used to inspire Marines to live up to the highest standards of the Corps since it began in Tun Tavern in 1775. As Vance stood holding Pike in a bear hug, it seemed like God had sent an archangel at just the moment he was needed most.

  “Well, I knew I would surprise you but what’s with the guy hug?” Pike was laughing but quickly sobered when he saw Vance’s eyes. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

  “Pike, we just lost a helluva Marine today.”

  “Whoa, so you knew the Marine? There was some scuttlebutt going down that somebody fell in front of the train but no details. What happened?”

  Avery jumped in. “Gunny, I’m Avery Quinn, this is Lance Corporal Casper. We are . . . were . . . friends of the sergeant that was killed by the train.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have introduced Dr. Quinn and Lance Corporal Casper. Just distracted.” Vance looked down now, composing himself.

  “Damn, sorry to hear that.” Pike’s brow furrowed, his hand to his cheek pulling at the contours of his sculpted face.

  “Yeah, we are all jammed up here and still have to go down to the station to talk to the security people.”

  “Well, hey, let me get out of your way. Is there anything I can do?” Pike’s face betrayed all the questions he had as well as the compassion he felt for his friend.

  “Corny, yeah, how long are you here?”

  “I am gonna try to bunk over at Crossroads. I’m up at Henderson and just came down here for a meeting at Marine Corps Combat Development Command. Going back tomorrow morning.”

  “Hey, forget Crossroads. I have a barracks pass at Jordan. Stay there tonight. I got a lot to talk to you about. Can you do that?”

  “Hell, yes, you know I will.”

  “I’ll circle back here after we finish, if that’s okay.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

  “Pike, I can’t thank you enough. I . . . ” Vance shook his head.

  “Hey, no problem. You are helping me out. Come and get me when you get released.”

  “Roger that, Corny. Thank you, my friend.”

  Pike offered his hand and the two Marines shook hands and looked at each other. “Semper Fi, Gunny.”

  Chapter 15

  He was already at the Occoquan exit before he realized he hadn’t seen anything since getting through the gate at Quantico. I-95 was in typical snow driving protocol. Bumper to bumper between 4 and 10 miles per hour, red brake lights flashing like a neon announcement. He wasn’t sure how he made it through the Marine guards. They had stopped him, asked him what his business was on base, checked his ID and waved him on.

  His heart had been racing but now it had settled into a regular pattern. He looked in the rearview mirror, caught a glimpse of his eyes and quickly returned to the road ahead.

  It was mistake, he thought, or maybe not. He wasn’t sure. It had looked like the gunnery sergeant was standing on the platform. An easy push to take him down but then in the instant that he turned, their eyes met and something was off. They were a cold steely blue, wide open in shock. That wasn’t right. He had read the description over and over. Shaved head, sharp jaw, over six feet . . . brown eyes. Everything except the eyes. The only times they had met, he hadn’t had much time or interest in memorizing his feature.

  He stared ahead, unseeing, his mind spiraling back through the events. He hadn’t expected to be chased. He had done his recon ahead of time and knew where he had to go and how to stage his flight but he hadn’t expected to be chased. Climbing the fence, jumping down onto the street had charged his adrenaline. Topping the wall of the bridge worked until he tried to bring the rope after him. He couldn’t leave it. Could he risk coming back? He had to.

  He came close to the chaos at the station, emergency vehicles and police lights drawing everyone’s attention. He watched a moment and when sure no one was looking, he quickly flew down the tracks to the place where the gorge tapered, plunged down the hill and back up the other side. He circled around the back of Jordan Hall to the parking lot, crossed the street to where he had parked his car by the pull-up bars. He drove quickly down the hill past the water treatment plant, across the tracks. Within moments, he was back at the bridge cutting the rope with his K-bar. He ditched the black hoodie in the trunk with the rope.

  The traffic leaving was slow, made worse by the drama at the station. He sat, sweating, crawling along Fuller Road waiting for his turn to talk to the corporal and security officer looking at everyone before they were permitted to leave. The snow, the number of people waiting helped his escape. He said he had been studying at the Library of the Marine Corps, just another student doing research. He asked what the fuss was and was told that information was unavailable and then asked to move on.

  Now, approaching Backlick Road, he was still going over it again and again. Where were the gaps? How much rope was left hanging when he had to cut it? Would there be fibers, DNA they could use? Who had died in the grip of the steel wheels of the train?

  He squeezed the steering wheel, his jaw locking down. His heart began to pound again. “AAAAAAAAGGGGG.” If anyone heard the yelling, it could easily be taken for a cry of frustration with traffic. Not common among seasoned commuters but understandable. He pounded the steering wheel. But in the winter gloom, no one noticed. They were all intent on their own problems. His had just become much more complicated.

  * * *

  The conversations with the Chief and Agent Mackey went late. They listened to Ghost’s notion that the killer had hesitated with little reaction. No one questioned his belief that he saw a moment of doubt but it could mean any number of things. Confusion, revulsion, or some combination. The tapes from the security cameras had been pulled and confirmed Ghost’s notion of what he saw. They were asked if they would be available the next day if they were needed.

  The chief arranged to take Avery to Crossroads. As they waited for her car, she shook her head. “Something stinks about this, Gunny.”

  He returned her gaze. “The whole thing stinks. What are you saying, Doc.?”

  “I don’t think Seelbach was the target.”

  Vance inhaled deeply and let out a quick breath. “What are you basing that on? Ghost’s hunch? The fuzzy tape recording?”

  “It wasn’t just a hunch, Vance. I saw it, too.” Her eyes drilled into him. “I think he was looking for someone else.”

  “Like?”

  “Don’t play dumb, Marine. You know who. Not only are you a carbon copy of Seelbach, you are fresh from a murder scene and a not-so-secret effort to find out what is going on.”

  “Doc, you know what that means? That means that Seelbach is dead because I have been poking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  “Maybe. Maybe it also means that these are some real bad guys and you are making them really uncomfortable.”

  “Yeah, maybe. And maybe I am the only one who knows things that can answer the questions, like why Guidry is dead . . . and now Seelbach.”

  “Do you think they’re
related?”

  “I don’t know, Doc but there was something I didn’t tell the Chief.”

  “What?” Quinn’s face registered alarm.

  “That rope I found. It was gone by the time I took that agent, Dozier, over but I saw it clearly. The knot was one I recognized.”

  “What do you mean ‘recognized?’”

  “It was a special climbing knot. It was one that we used a lot at Bridgeport, at Mountain Warfare Training. It was one that I remember because it was the one I couldn’t get, not without help.”

  The unspoken question hung in the air.

  “It was the one that Aksel showed me.”

  “Oh, no, Gunny,” Avery moaned. “No way . . . it couldn’t be.”

  He looked down, his voice almost a whisper. “I don’t know what to think but now I have to find out. I have to find out if I could be so wrong about someone I thought I knew. And if I was, he isn’t going to hide from this . . . Diplomatic immunity or not, he’s going to face this . . . face me.”

  Avery’s arms crossed her body as though she was recovering from a punch to the gut. Her face was etched with disappointment, bewilderment. “Don’t we bring that to Chief Devlin and Special Agent Mackey? Isn’t this their job?”

  “And say what? We know who the killer is because he used a special knot? A lot of people use those climbing knots. Besides, we don’t have time, Doc. If the weather breaks, Aksel is leaving tomorrow. I left my car here so once the snow stops, I’m going to see what he has to say.”

  “Okay, I get it.” Avery’s police car had pulled up. “Hey, come and get me tomorrow morning and we can talk this through before you head up there. Besides, I think we need to do some research. Let me do that but we need to come up with a plan. Marine Corps Planning Process, right?”

  “Sure. I’ll be over to get you at 0700.”

  He walked Avery to the car. “Wanna a ride?” Officer Dale Tucker offered Vance.

  “Nah, I’m just going over to Jordan Hall. I think I’d like to walk.” He closed the door, nodded to Avery and turned to walk back to Sam’s and pick up his friend and then over to the barracks. His feelings of confusion and sadness substituted for an appetite. He trudged through the five inches of snow on Potomac Avenue and tried to extract calm from the quiet snow floating down around him. He would fill Pike in on what had happened and see what he thought about this unholy mess he was caught in. He thought about the long night ahead of him. The waves of thoughts would swirl around him, he knew that. He just wasn’t sure what it would feel like after the reality of Seelbach’s murder sunk in. Or what he might have to do to elude whatever might await him if he kept asking questions. Pike could help him sort it out.