“I recommend a draft beer, a bowl of the clam chowder and a hamburger with fries,” advised Colleen.
A waitress approached the table. She was a buxom blond woman with heavy makeup and a blouse whose color had long since been washed to dullness.
“What will it be, kids, are you eating or just drinking?”
“We want something to eat,” answered David, “how about two draft beers, two burgers with fries and a couple bowls of your chowder?”
“Now you’re talking, Honey.”
She took their order and left. “We were lucky to get a table, this place is very busy this time of year,” explained Colleen.
The music and beer quickly drowned their worries. They both relaxed in their chairs and let themselves melt into the atmosphere. David quickly downed his beer and ordered another when their food arrived. The clam chowder was excellent. They ate slowly, enjoying the pleasant diversion Murphy’s Bar offered.
The night sky was clear and the sunset was going to be beautiful. David drove the boat slowly and along the way, they stopped to watch the sunset, hold each other and make a little nice, nice! As he approached the house, David thought of his first trip ‘Down the Shore’ when he and Colleen made love in her boat.
Once inside, Colleen said, “David, we have to leave at first light. This place is going to get very crowded with the July Fourth weekend starting in a few days. I don’t want to chance a meeting with Roger or my parents.”
“I agree I’ll set the alarm for 6:30 AM.”
Morning seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye. They jumped out of bed, dressed quickly, grabbed their things and walked to the aircraft. Once there, David loaded their bag in the chopper while Colleen began the pre-flight. Shortly before 7:30 AM, she started the engine and soon they were airborne. A soft morning haze blanketed the ocean as Colleen guided the aircraft over the beach. At 500 feet; she executed a right turn, climbed to 3,000 feet and adjusted their course for Summit Point, West Virginia. There were high clouds and visibility was good.
“We can grab a bite to eat at the airport in West Virginia. David, remember to keep a look out for other aircraft.”
Chapter 51
FBI Headquarters: Wednesday June 27.
Supervising Agent Bruce Edwards, Agents O’Donnell and Miles, Dr. Melvin Stickler along with administrative assistant Catherine Balkunow sat in the second floor conference room of FBI Headquarters in Washington, DC.
Supervisor Edwards called the meeting to order, then said, “Michael, you asked for this meeting, why don’t you begin?”
“I think we may have a break regarding the perpetrator Bobby Vaccaro shot. Yesterday, the local police received a call from the manager of the Shady Rest Motel outside Skaneateles, NY. It appears the maid found someone unconscious on a bed and a lot of blood in the room. The manager remembers the fellow who checked in was very athletic looking and wearing fatigue pants. During the check-in, he told the manager he was with the antique boat show that is going on in town. The vehicle listed on the register was a late model, green Chevrolet Suburban with Virginia license number NSA 2459.”
“Did you run the plate?”
“Yes, it was difficult, but it belongs to the Defense Intelligence Agency Special Operations group.”
“Is that the same group Commander Robin Camp works for?”
“I’m sure it is, but they are reluctant to give out information over there. Agent David Calafato is following up on that possibility.”
“What about the person in the bed?”
“They took him to the hospital. The attending physician said he was shot and in extreme pain due to a perforated bowel and acute peritonitis. Apparently, the State Police withheld painkillers until he told them what occurred. He was part of a Navy Seal covert operations group ordered to find and bring in David and Colleen at all cost. He understood they were part of a terrorist cell and a national security risk. He gave his name as Corporal Robert Slingman and his Commanding Officer as Commander Robin Camp of the Defense Intelligence Agency.”
“Michael, we need to get Calafato on that right away. This Robin Camp character sounds like a rogue operative. I wonder if he is receiving orders from someone, perhaps our friend Senator Casey,” pondered Bruce Edwards.
“Agent Hurley is looking for Seaman Pendowski who is missing. His parents have not heard from him in several days. We got the name of his girlfriend from his parents and Agent Hurley is following up on her.”
“Agent Miles, I see you have invited Dr. Herman Stickler to the meeting. What do we have on the DNA in the metal?”
“Yes, Michael, it would be best if I let Dr. Stickler explain this, it is a little bit complicated.”
“Dr. Stickler, did you find DNA in the sample of metal?”
“Yes, Agent O’Donnell, I did.”
“Dr. Stickler, perhaps you could elaborate a little.”
“Yes, well in simple terms, DNA is deoxyribonucleic acid, the blueprint for life; the molecule of heredity. It contains each person’s unique genetic code and in short, is a blueprint for that person. Very often, we extract DNA from traces of tissue, hair samples, blood, bone and saliva. In a corpse, it can remain viable up to fifty years.”
“Could you just match the DNA in the metal with DNA from a supposed descendant of that person?”
Dr. Stickler had a frown on his face. “You must understand it is not an easy thing to do. First, there are two types of DNA tests you can do. The simpler of the two is the PCR test which takes about three days; the more difficult RFLP test can take as long as five or six weeks.”
“How do you do these tests?”
“The first thing is to collect samples. Since our only sample is embedded in the molecular structure of the steel, we will have to find a way to extract it from the metal. Assuming we are able to do that, we cut the DNA into fragments and sort the fragments by length. This is done by placing them on a bed of gel and applying a weak electrical current. After a period of time, the fragments begin to arrange themselves by length. After that, we use alkaline chemicals to split the DNA fragments apart so they can be arranged on a sheet of nylon in order to submerge them in a radioactive bath that….”
“Dr. Stickler! Dr. Stickler! I think we get the idea even though you have probably lost all of us at this point. What I want to know is, can you do this and how accurate are these tests?”
“I believe we can, but it will take time to extract the DNA from the sample. If we can and it’s a positive match, then it is 99.9 percent accurate that the two people are related. If there is no match, it is 100 percent positive they are not related.”
“Thank you, Dr. Stickler.”
“You are welcome; Agent O’Donnell, but you have not yet given me the other DNA samples.”
“I’m quite aware of that. We will try to obtain some for you as quickly as possible. Thank you again for your work, Dr. Stickler. You may be excused.”
Michael was laughing to himself and then said, “Boy, he sure is a ‘stickler’ for details.”
We can collect a DNA sample from Tony Carbonara and if Dr. Stickler can remove the DNA from the steel, we will have a start. While Agent Hurley is looking into finding Seaman Pendowski, he should also check the records and get a list of names of all who were lost on the USS Morgan. From there, we may be able to get DNA samples from their descendants.”
“Michael, I assume David and Colleen are still at Seneca Vineyards.”
“Yes and we need to move them to a safe house somewhere down here.”
“Good, we can use the one in Fairfax, VA. Mrs. Balkunow can make the arrangements. We will send a chopper to pick them up this afternoon.”
“I’ll call up there and make the arrangements right after the meeting.”
The meeting broke up just past noon. As Michael walked to the cafeteria f
or lunch, he took out his cell phone and dialed the number for Seneca Vineyards.
Chapter 52
Summit Point, WV, Lockhart Field: Wednesday, June 27.
Lockhart Field was reminiscent of a rural airport one might have found in the fifties. There was a single grass runway. On one side of the runway was an administration building with a small cafe and two Quonset huts used as hangars. Tied down in two neat rows just beyond the hangars were several reasonable looking light planes and the local police helicopter. Across the runway was the airplane graveyard. In near terminal condition, a forlorn looking 1930’s Lockheed Loadstar, sat next to a DC-3 without engines and two light planes with their fabric coverings in tatters. Alongside these sat several large bits and pieces of aircraft awaiting their fate.
The Flight Line Café appeared to be a popular place for breakfast and lunch. Colleen was enjoying an egg and cheese omelette while David chose the biscuits with sausage gravy, a true southern breakfast. As they ate, the regulars surreptitiously eyed the young couple while they talked in hushed sentences about the sleek Jet Ranger parked outside.
“Next stop, Hendersonville area,” commented Colleen. “There is a small airport called Transylvania County Airport near Brevard, NC. I found it on the GPS Map and they have jet fuel. Since they are a bit off the beaten path, it might be a safer place to fuel up and we will still have plenty of fuel when we arrive at J P’s house since it’s only about fifty nautical miles to his home.”
They finished eating, fueled the aircraft and were back in the air by 11:30 AM. Air traffic was almost non-existent; the weather was clear and visibility unlimited. They wound their way southward through the Blue Ridge Mountains. The hills were adorned with diamond-like lakes punctuated by stone outcroppings and a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to stretch endlessly toward the horizon.
Shortly after one, Colleen radioed Transylvania County Airport in North Carolina, alerting them of their arrival. They stopped only for fuel and were quickly on their way. Forty–five minutes later Colleen let out a deep breath as she set the aircraft down on J P’s lawn.
Chapter 53
Lake Burton, GA: Wednesday, June 27.
After moving back into the Lake Burton house, David took Colleen down to the boathouse to check out J P’s boat. The boathouse was a work of art with a screened-in sleeping area upstairs and a large sundeck outside. David opened the side door and revealed a sparkling mahogany speedboat named Razzel Dazzel.
“Wow,” exclaimed Colleen as she stood with her hand over her mouth, “that is just awesome.”
“It is a 1958 Chris Craft Capri with a V-8 engine and we are taking it out tonight.”
“You’re kidding!”
“There is a place at the south end of the lake called Cherokee Landing. They have great hamburgers, live music and plenty of cold beer. The best part is we can go there by boat. I also want to show you around the lake a bit. There are some incredible houses here.”
“David, I am going to need some items from a store. It looks like we will be here for a while, so I think we need to get food and supplies for the house. I’m also quite hungry right now.”
“So am I Colleen. We can go into Clayton; they have a Super Wal-Mart there as well as other stores and restaurants. I just wanted to wet your appetite a little for tonight. I’ll get the Jeep and we can go as soon as you are ready.”
The shopping trip to Clayton lasted several hours and they arrived back home around 5:30 PM. After a quick shower, they headed to the boathouse. David brought a couple bottles of water and a comforter for the trip back since he thought it might get cold on the water at night.
Colleen was bending down admiring the machine-turned gold leaf lettering on the stern of Razzel Dazzel as David started the engine. A snarl of water and exhaust exited the pipes, splashing Colleen and causing her to jump back and scream at the noise.
“Sorry about that. I had the throttle out a little too far.”
David backed Razzel Dazzel out of the boathouse and headed south along the western shore of Lake Burton. It was just past 6:30 PM and the sun was still high in the sky. A gossamer summer haze quietly masked rising thunderclouds in the west as they slowly followed the shoreline southward. It seemed to be a beautiful summer day. Looking at the houses with their occupants enjoying their lakeside activities brought a wistful reminder of the Jersey shore to Colleen.
Chapter 54
Auburn Memorial Hospital: Wednesday June 27.
Sitting in a wheelchair, Tony sported a blue fiberglass cast below the knee of his right leg. His left arm was in a sling and he complained all the way to the door about having to be in a wheelchair.
“Why can’t I just walk out? I’m not an invalid.”
“Antonio,” pleaded Maria, “it’s hospital policy, relax and enjoy the ride.”
At the front entrance, Vinnie was waiting with the Hummer.
“How are you feeling, Boss?”
“I’m fine Vinnie, help me get out of this damn thing; I can’t wait to get home. You wouldn’t believe how bad the food is there. I’m going to call Mirko and have him prepare a decent meal with plenty of pasta. Maria, where is my cell phone?”
“Antonio, we left it home. Now relax, we’ll be home in a few minutes and you can have Mirko make anything you like.”
“Hey Boss, the guy that Bobby shot, the one that got away, the police think he was hole-up in the Shady Rest Motel. They found a lot of blood in the room and the maid, freaked out when she found him.”
“Yeah, it’s a shame about Bobby. Michael’s guys will get them.”
Vinnie pulled the Hummer up to the Seneca Vineyards portico where Mirko was waiting.
“Ah, Mirko my friend, they practically starved me at that damn hospital. It’s a crime what they feed you there, I mean with what they charge for staying a few nights they could at least feed you decent food. Now Mirko, I’m starved, so here is what I want you to do: cook me some of your eggplant and a nice bowl of ziti with sausage and some of that semolina bread you make with a little olive oil”
“I will be happy to! I’ll have it ready in forty-five minutes. Where do you want to eat?”
“Patio is fine, Mirko”
“Oh Tony, by the way, Michael O’Donnell has been calling for you. He called several times this morning and I told him that you were coming home today. He said he would call again later.”
“I’ll be on the patio if he calls.” Tony began hobbling toward the patio when something struck him like a hammer. “Where are David and Colleen, have they eaten yet?”
Maria was looking at Vinnie, “They…”
“They left this morning in the chopper,” divulged Vinnie.
“For Christ sake Vinnie, did you help them?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps you should have run this by me first. Where the hell did they go Vinnie?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know. What do you mean you don’t know? How can that be? Didn’t they leave a flight plan? You of all people should have told them to do that!”
“They said they did not want to cause us any more trouble.”
“Jesus Vinnie, those people are going to kill them! I’m gone for a couple of days and the whole plan goes to shit! Michael is going to be pissed; they were in my care and now they have disappeared. We don’t even know where they went and what’s more you helped them.”
“I’m sorry, Boss.”
The phone was ringing. Looking at the Caller ID Maria rolled her eyes and handed the phone to Tony, “It’s Michael,”
“Hello, Michael. Yes, I arrived just a few minutes ago. No, I’m fine, just flesh wounds.”
“Tony, the reason I’m calling is that we want to send a chopper up for David and Colleen this afternoon to take them to a safe house we have. These people are
professionals and they will not stop until they get them.”
“Michael, I’m afraid they are not here.”
“What do you mean they are not there?” Michael asked in a thin voice.
“They left this morning in their chopper. I just found out myself a minute ago.”
“Do you know where they went?”
“Apparently nobody knows, they just told Vinnie they did not want to cause us any additional trouble and were leaving. Vinnie fueled their chopper and let them go.”
“All right Tony, I’ll take it from here. Oh, one other thing; we will need a DNA sample from you.”
“Whoa Michael, what do you need that for?”
“Relax, Tony, we need it to compare the DNA in the metal to establish if it is your father’s. While we are discussing that, does your mother have any old pictures of the USS Morgan’s crew or any information regarding his crewmates? We plan to track down other descendents for samples.”
“I’ll check with her. How do I give you DNA?”
“We’ll send someone to obtain it.”
“All right Michael, let me know when you find them. I’m sorry for what happened.”
Chapter 55
Defense Intelligence Agency: Wednesday, June 26.
Chief Petty Officer Doyles headed toward Commander Robin Camp’s office. Finally, he had some good news to report to his superior.
“Sir, do you have a minute?”
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