Mischief Island

by Robert Lance

  He surveyed the landing. It couldn’t support anything larger than an occasional patrol boat at best. Scattered around the landing were sheds, two blocks of street shops with bright wares of locally produced trinkets. He noticed a fish processing plant that was nothing more than open air cleaning stations and an ice house. Sabang could barely host a Boy Scout jamboree, let alone a military base camp.

  Ted was confused. He saw nothing around the harbor to support a waterborne operation. The bay was too shallow for any naval ship of any consequence. He knew there was one hundred thirty miles of open water to cross before his team could launch any clandestine operation. Fast zodiacs had the range but were exposed on surface ops. Submarines were out of the question. What was Alamo Jones up to? Perrotte scratched his head, wondering.

  His thoughts turned to the possibility of airborne ops. If that were the case, what was his team doing on the wrong side of the island? Why weren’t they near the airport at Puerto Princesa where helicopters and support crews could easily mask an ongoing operation? Nothing was making any sense. He shook his head.

  Why had the Philippine Park service closed the underground river attraction? Was it a part of the national defense posture? Was it an excuse to run the Chinese off? Probably. There were too many intersecting coincidences connecting the river to whatever Alamo had set in motion.

  Ted tried to rent a water taxi to take him to the underground river but no amount of arguing could get any of the taxi operators to ferry him to the attraction. It was closed and that was that. Filipinos didn’t question the authority of government decrees. Ted applied green to his negotiating tactic and finally found one operator to take him to the mouth of the river, but no further.

  The twenty-minute ride was boring, and Ted allowed his thoughts to return to the mystery woman. Whatever the circumstances, Alamo Jones was out of his mind bringing the woman to the island. What could a junior grade officer bring to the operation that Alamo didn’t already have covered? No woman had yet joined SEAL forces. He could see conflict and entanglement as he tried to pinpoint Alamo’s connection to the beautiful woman. He knew Alamo was married, and he had met the wife a few times. She was a charming and beautiful woman. Was Alamo having a mid-life reversal? Perhaps there was another explanation, but Ted couldn’t fathom one. Maybe Lieutenant Cummins would enlighten him the next time he saw her. No matter what, Ted knew he needed to keep Heather and Alamo’s personal business away from the team. The deployment was becoming more and more fucked up by the minute.

  The trip was a complete waste of time. There was a small seaside beach where taxi’s beached. A narrow inlet led to the cave opening from which fresh water emptied into the sea. Motor powered boats weren’t allowed in the reservoir of pure water exiting the cave, so Ted transferred to an outrigger canoe. The short ride was just like the post card. Ted calculated the inlet water depth and the dimensions of the cave entry. Nothing of a military value came to him. Another mystery lingered in his mind. What was the logistical connection between the closed park and Operation Alamo? Ted saw none.

  On the trip back to Sabang, Ted was thinking about Heather in a way that would get him into trouble. He had to fix that. The woman was way out of his league at just too many levels.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  By the end of the day, the team was as deep in the dark as they had been the day before. They had come to the same conclusion as Ted. The team had been sent on a false errand. They didn’t have a contact or orders other than to check into the Sheridan at Sabang under cover as employees of International Geographic Research Institute. Gates had even gone to the trouble to check the billing with the front desk to make sure they were at the right Sheridan hotel. He then asked for Alamo Jones’ room and discovered that he had an open reservation and had yet to arrive.

  Paradise offered them little in the way of diversions. They could swim in the sea, lie on the beach, or sit by the pool. The resort was empty, so the restaurant was closed. Roberto opened the bar and turned on the TV. That left them little to do but sit at the bar and grumble, get on each other’s nerves, and ask the same questions over and over.

  Ted had his own reasons for being pissed off. He sat at the end of the bar to be left to sulk. He had planned his two weeks of leave to fly halfway across the country to visit his three children. The ex-wife wanted to fight about it because she is a bitch with nothing better to do than rip his heart out. The kids were ambivalent because they were used to the whining. Used to his absence. Used to the short sips of fatherhood. It would take a few days to restart the fatherhood relationship again. He was working at it, but his kids were closer to plastic phones than they were to him. He needed time, but the urgent need of the U.S. Navy made a mess of it. His kids didn’t even bother to wave as the taxi took them home.

  Here he was, doing nothing with time that belonged to his children. He had a vision of them playing poolside, enjoying his presence in paradise. He could dwell on his shitty life, brood until doomsday, but that too, was a waste of time. It was never going to get better.

  Roberto was looking at him oddly, as if knowing the cause of his angst. “Hey Joe,” he said with a flashy smile on his face. “It’s happy hour.”

  Ted said, “There is nothing happy about this hour or the next one. What do you think of my chances of getting laid?”

  He heard the sweet feminine voice close behind say, “If you return my camera, I’d say they’re pretty good.”

  Startled, Ted nearly fell off his barstool. He recovered quickly, but was still stunned. Heather flashed him a flirty smile and all he could think to say was, “What are you doing here…I mean to say—”

  “I know what you mean to say.” She put her beach bag on the bar and began digging through it. She said, “You’re well done, Ted. We need to get some burn lotion on you.” She removed a plastic bottle with a palm tree logo and began removing the cap. “Pull your shirt up and I’ll put some on your back.”

  He was befuddled by the familiarity of someone he didn’t know. That, in itself, caused him a bit of awkwardness, but the beautiful woman was not shy with her temptations and that spooked Ted. “Who are you? I don’t know you from Eve.”

  She ignored him and swirled her finger in his face. “Turn around and pull your shirt up. This won’t take long.” She smiled at him.

  “Miss, whoever you are, we don’t know each other. Thanks for the offer, but I have a jealous wife.”

  “We both know that’s not true.”

  “We both know you’re not a nun. Are you in the business, business?”

  The green in her eyes turned dark. Then she chuckled. “I can see how you’d reach that conclusion. I’ve known you, and about you…for years. In fact, I’m obsessed with you. Actually, seeing you in the flesh is a fantasy dream come true.”

  “Who are you? Let me guess, you’re a spook.”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. I’m the voice at the other end of the line when you deploy. “Lieutenant Heather Cummins, 501st Naval Intelligence Detachment.” She held out her hand for him to take. He hesitated and she said. “I’m not here by coincidence, but you know that. Am I being too forward, presuming too much?”

  Ted finally took her hand and said, “I’m not so sure whether protocol allows you and me to even be talking, ma’am. If I’m making all the right conclusions, I would think you’re proposing that you and I should have an affair.”

  “A one night stand works for me. Well, maybe more than one. We’ll play it by ear.” Her smile was from ear to ear.

  “Lieutenant, we’re not alone and others might see. In fact, they already have.” He nodded in the direction of his three mates sitting in the shade, pretending not to be spying on them.

  She said, “I know how SEALs roll. I’ll bet if we put the question to them they’d say, ‘Go for it Ted.”

  “Not if they knew you’re a naval officer with a top secret clearance.” He glanced again at his buddies sitting in the shade. All three of them conveyed a head nod of sorts.


  “Not to change the subject, but can you tell me what the hell is going on?”

  “We’re encountering difficulties at the other end, and you’ll know once we iron out the problems. Some of our people are just now filtering in. In the meantime, we’re instructed to lay low and I have every intention of doing just that.”

  “I’m sorry, Lieutenant —.”

  “Heather.”

  Ted wasn’t comfortable with the casual form of address and skipped it. “We saw a couple of babes that looked like real nuns at breakfast this morning. Do they belong to you?”

  “Yes. Warrant officers Diamato and French. They’re good intel techs. Normally we’d be working out of the Command and Control center at Zamboanga, but this mission has gone sideways. We can’t let the Filipinos know the scope of the mission. The place is crawling with Chinese spies.”

  “Sideways doesn’t come close. We still don’t know a damned thing. The team is edgy.”

  She nodded as she scanned the men sipping beer and peering at her. “I can see that. “You know how the Navy chain of command slow drips everything. We’re having logistic problems because some admiral wants the requisitions in triplets, with the signature of someone above his pay grade to approve it.” She rolled her eyes. “I can tell you this mission is self-contained, and outside of channels, even for SEALs.”

  “Why?”

  “Political sensitivity. This mission has been on the books for years. It’s been on the shelf ever since and never profiled for simulation training—

  “But you’re familiar with it?”

  “I helped write it, which explains why I’m here.”

  “Does that also explain why I’m here?”

  She grinned and said, “You flatter yourself. Staffing the mission was above my pay grade.”

  “Lieutenant Commander Jones said I was hand selected for the mission. How well do you know him? I saw a luggage tag with his name on it over at the Blue Moon.”

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “What were you doing in my Cabana? That’s naughty, Ted.”

  “I was returning your camera. I wasn’t prying, but it’s a surprise to find his stuff in your room. I know his wife.”

  “So do I. She’s the bitch who broke-up my marriage.” She sighed and look around tentatively. She said, “I met Alamo while I was still an ensign. I did most of the intelligence research for his dissertation at the Naval War College. I was intimately familiar with his thought process, and before I knew it, I was intimate with him in every way.” She sadly shook her head. “We married. Alamo’s ego is hard for him to live with, let alone sharing any part of himself with an adoring wife. The trouble with him is he adores every other man’s wife more than he does his own. In a way, I feel sorry for Beth, but then I don’t. It was ugly, Ted. He surprised me by throwing me out with all my belongings. I didn’t have luggage at the time, so he used his bags for my stuff. Men aren’t the only ones to come home and find little scraps of their crap in the driveway.”

  Ted said, “It’s none of my business. I just thought—

  “You thought I’m involved with Alamo? He wishes. My divorce hurt my career, and I was transferred out of his intelligence branch. His scandals hurt him too, and he blames me for exposing his philandering.”

  “Then, no love lost between you?”

  “Are you kidding? You went through it. You tell me how you reconcile betrayal.”

  Ted studied the dynamics and it occurred to him her motives might go beyond fantasy and more towards revenge. He sure as hell wasn’t going to ask his commanding officer for permission to fuck his ex-wife. On the other hand, she could say he did, and the outcome would be the same. The woman was loony tunes. Straight up crazy. She was as tempting as Mata Hari and just as dangerous. Ted said, “I sure as hell don’t want to be on the bad side of Alamo Jones by having a one night stand with his ex-wife.”

  “I know I sound like a nut job. A one night stand and no one needs to know.” She shook her head, asserting her belief in her fantasy. “Let me just say I’ve put this puzzle together a hundred times, and I’ve memorized every piece and can put it together in my dreams. Can we just accept that I’m out ahead of you? Can you trust a woman’s intuition, just once?”

  “Lieutenant, nut job doesn’t even come close. If we were a hundred miles from nowhere in a Hillbilly bar, and I was drunk on my ass, I’d still have to think about it. I’ll take a pass.”

  “We’re more than a hundred miles from nowhere. Who’s going to care or know?”

  Ted moved back in his chair and said, “I care. I don’t have the advantage of knowing a damned thing about you, but you know all about me, and that scares the living shit out of me. I mean the living shit. We have careers, have you thought about that?”

  “All the time, Ted. My career sucks the life out of me. I can’t be seen with, date, or sleep with anyone that catches my eye. Believe me; I’m wearing a sandwich board that says ‘off limits.’ I might as well be a nun.” Her smile faded.

  Ted shook his head. “This is just nuts. I’m flattered, believe me, I truly am, but what do you expect from me?”

  “You could pretend I’m the woman of your dreams.”

  Ted didn’t have a problem with that concept because as of last night she was that woman. Since his divorce, Ted’s need of the soothing attentions of a woman were pretend and often short lived with a transfer of cash at the end of it. It got him by. The pretense of love was like paint remover, leaving bare wood to be painted over again and again. The woman confronting him had more to lose than he did. Her craving was evident. He tried to hide his.

  He said, “Don’t you think you’re rushing into something that might ruin your perceptions of the man you’re stalking? You are stalking me. It’s against the law.”

  “It’s my job to stalk men. Some good men, some not so good. Your flaws are delicious temptations that endear you to me.” She patted his hand. “I have you at a disadvantage. My greatest flaw is what I silently hold in my heart. I’m brazen, foolish, and being a tramp, but this opportunity will never come again, and the risk is nothing compared to the pain of rejection.”

  “Don’t take this wrong, Heather. On any other day, or any other place, I’d cut the throat of my closest kin if I even thought I could sleep with you. It’s just the wrong day and the wrong place.”

  Tears were forming in her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away. She appeared to be beside herself, fighting with inner thoughts. Ted remained silent through it all. Her passionate fantasy was falling apart. She slid the bottle of lotion towards Ted, and stiffened with as much humility as she could muster. As she stood to leave, she said, “I’ve made a complete fool of myself, and I can’t imagine what impression you have of me.”

  He sneered. “Tramp is a good start. Your whacko fantasy is just too complicated for me. Knowing what I know, I’d have to be crazier than you to fall for your stupid scheme.”

  “I’m not a tramp. I’m desperate and foolishly told you the truth.” She sighed heavily. “It’s ironic that honesty makes me feel cheap. I know of no way of making this up to you.”

  “You could go home and call me in a couple months.”

  She looked at her toes, and her shoulders gave way. She sighed heavily again and said, “It will take much longer than that for me to forgive myself. Please keep this conversation to yourself. I promise not to be a bother.” She turned and walked away.

  He watched her go. It was either the devil on his shoulder, or the saints in his heart urging him to go after her. What if she was right? What if Heather Cummins was his soul-mate, briefly passing by? The temptation was overwhelming as his toe reached the floor. He couldn’t make the rest of his body move.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  OUTER WAITING ROOM, OVAL OFFICE .The Chinese Ambassador fumed at the diplomatic affront. He was summonsed to the White House and delayed. He and his entourage were parked like dental patients stacked up to have their teeth checked. If this was the worst that the
American buffoon could dish out, he’d endure it.

  The inner door to the Oval Office opened, and the president stepped out. He surveyed the waiting room like a school teacher monitoring class detention. “Ah, there you are Ambassador. We’ll have our meeting out in the hall because I wouldn’t want to disrespect the sanctity of the great office of America.”

  The ambassador stuttered a response but was cut short. The president talked as he walked. “Don’t get up. I’ve gotta piss, and I won’t be long.” He gave the diplomats a short fake smile and walked past them.

  The ambassador deeply felt the snub. He toyed with the idea of leaving, but the voice of the president echoed. “You do not want to walk out on the President of the United States, this I can tell you.”

  The little man seethed as he waited for the president to return. Here he came, marching and talking. “We make great deals. Let me tell you, great deals we make, us and China.” He thrust out his hand to shake the befuddled ambassador’s small mitten. “Normally I wash my hands after visiting the men’s room, but I took this occasion not to. Sit, sit, please sit down.”

  The Chinaman looked at the palm of his hand and then at the president. His little eyes snapped open, and he looked puzzled, not believing what had happened. The dampness on his palm, whether it was presidential piss or not, was worse than a slap in the face. The ignominy of it was too much. He screeched something in Chinese but the president put his wet hand on the little man’s suit collar and lightly pushed him into his seat. The ambassador angrily grabbed the president’s arm to toss his hold on him. The secret service agent in the hall moved quickly but the president could hold his own and signaled him away. As if nothing happened, the president grinned and said, “Sit. Sit. I won’t detain you much longer as what I have to say will be short, succinct, and to the point.”

  The ambassador grudgingly resumed his place, expecting the president to sit next to him. Instead, the man stood over him and pointed his finger in the ambassador’s face. “Mr. Yuan, you’re going back to China, and you’re going to take my message with you to deliver to your government, your generals, and your admirals. We could have made beautiful deals, China and the USA. Maybe we will, who knows. Not now. There will be no new deals as long as China disrespects the rule of law on the high seas. Your provocation against the Philippine’s rightful territorial claims in the Spratly Islands will not go unpunished, this I promise you. Your military occupation must end, not next year, not next month. It ends right now.”