Sign, SEAL and Deliver: Silver SEALs, Book 8

by Geri Foster

“You’re right. He’s all but accused me of taking the money. And since he returned back to his home in DC, he’s keeping his cover perfectly. Silas said he hasn’t stepped out of line once.”

  “So, how do we get him to screw up?”

  “I’m not sure, but Crash has given us full reign to tap his phone, follow him, and check out every word he says.”

  “All that will come in handy. Do we start tomorrow morning?”

  Rye put his knee on the edge of the bed and crawled toward her. “Look at you all spied up, ready to go. Thought you left that world behind?”

  She grinned and cupped his face. “I did, but a little surveillance isn’t going to hurt.”

  He captured her mouth, his arms around her waist. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s what I do,” she teased. “And just think of all the things we can find to occupy our minds while we’re watching Sully.”

  He laughed. “I like that part.”

  The next morning found them sitting in the rental car watching Sully’s house with paper cups of coffee in their hands. It was in a good neighborhood in the suburbs near Georgetown.

  Sully’s wife had left him long ago, yet he’d maintained ownership of the house and a vehicle. As far as Rye knew, that’s all he got. That and the privilege of paying for two girls to go to college.

  After retirement, Rye wondered how a man paid for that and kept a big fancy house in an expensive place like this. At first he thought it was paid off, but from the research he’d done on Harper’s laptop last night, the place had two mortgages on it.

  “I wonder how he affords to pay for all this?” Harper asked.

  “I was just wondering the same thing.”

  Harper’s phone rang. She’d put out several feelers earlier in the morning and he hoped that was a call back on one of those. She listened intently for several minutes then put the phone away.

  She looked up at him. “That was a contact I have in Kandahar.”

  “Anything interesting?”

  “This guy says he has a thread that connects Sully with Hussein, Qamar, Rahman and Karzi.”

  Rye whistled. “That’s a great bunch of terrorists to hang around with.”

  “He says Karzi and Sully had an agreement to split the hostage money.”

  “Well, if that’s true, Sully must’ve been really thrilled to learn I killed him.”

  “Your Team’s mission that night was to go in and destroy the poppy field compound. To blow it all up, correct?”

  “Yes, our orders were clear.”

  “And Sully wasn’t privy to any of that, right?”

  “Correct. It was SacPac, my Team and you. But at that time he was the ranking officer there.”

  “Doing what exactly?” she asked. “What was Sully’s mission?”

  “I don’t know. You know we don’t discuss stuff like that except with our own Team. Sully had another mission, I guess.”

  She placed her cup of coffee into the cup holder. “He told me his mission hadn’t been decided yet. He was waiting for orders to come through.”

  “Harper, I never made it back to the base. From what I was told they medevaced me out of there.”

  “Well, Sully stuck around for two days then left for Kandahar and flew back here.”

  Rye’s brow wrinkled. “So, he didn’t have a mission or a reason to be there?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I knew about.”

  Rye thought on that. He and Harper had already assumed Sully had something to do with the stolen money, but to learn he planned to split it with a known terrorist is treason.

  “I’m wondering if he didn’t call in the attack on your Team,” Harper said softly. “It’s hard to think a SEAL would turn like that on another SEAL, but money has a powerful influence over a man who’s struggling as financially as Sully.”

  “How do we prove that?”

  “We’ll find a way. In the years I’ve been with the CIA, I’ve learned there’s always a way to expose the truth.”

  Rye didn’t like it. “So, why does Crash think there is someone here in the States helping Sully? Why can’t they all be in Afghanistan?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to start out at the beginning and find out why you were sent to take out the poppy operation to begin with.”

  “I didn’t make that decision. Command did.”

  “Let’s start there.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Harper called Silas and he did some digging before getting back to her. Evidently the man in charge of that operation was still around and lived in Northern Virginia. They were fifty-five miles away from Fredericksburg where retired Admiral Timothy Van Gundy lived.

  They pulled off I95 onto a four-lane avenue and the GPS took them right to the residence of the Admiral. The neighborhood was less than five miles from the University of Mary Washington. The neighborhood was quaint and clean with students riding bikes and carrying backpacks.

  They turned down Platt Street and the GPS announced they’d reached their destination. Harper looked over at Rye. “You’re sure Silas paved the way for us to talk to this guy, right?”

  Rye nodded. “He said he did. I hope we don’t get kicked out of town. Thank God not all Admirals have security details after retirement.”

  They got out of the car and approached the large two-story colonial brick home with matching pillars and a circular driveway. The porch was long and wide.

  Rye rang the doorbell then jammed his fingers in the rear pockets of his jeans, waiting. It took a few minutes before a black lady, dressed in a grey maid’s uniform, answered the door. Rye told her the Admiral was expecting them and they were led in.

  Harper looked around and the luxury of the living quarters impressed her while it also turned her stomach. While they had been in the field all their careers, neither of them could afford to live in a house like this. It made her wonder just how much an Admiral, who’d never left the States, made a year.

  A matronly woman who reminded her of Barbara Bush greeted them with a wide smile and her hand out for them to shake. “I’m Elenore, Timothy’s wife. Please follow me. I’ve had Opal serve coffee.” She turned back to Harper. “Or are you more of a tea person?”

  Harper smiled and shook her head. “No, coffee will be fine.”

  As they entered a study, the aroma of fresh coffee filled the room and an elderly man stood, tall and proud. His silver hair neatly parted without a strand out of place. He’d be made for a military man in any environment.

  He held out his hand. “Timothy Van Gundy here. I’m very pleased to finally have the opportunity to meet you Commander Ellison.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Rye shook the Admiral’s hand and turned to introduce Harper.

  “Branson told me to expect you.” He waved them to the couch, and he took a large comfortable chair. The maid poured coffee and left a tray with sugar, cream and small pastries.

  “We appreciate you seeing us on such a short notice.”

  “No, I wanted to meet you sooner.” The Admiral lowered his sharp gaze. “I always felt a little responsible for you losing your entire Team. I was a former SEAL and I know what that means. How it can hurt.”

  “It did sir, I won’t deny that. But we all have a job to do.”

  “I went over that mission a hundred times in my mind and I could never figure out what went wrong.”

  “But you did receive my report?” Harper said, balancing the cup and saucer on her knees.

  “Yes I did and it was very detailed and informative, however it did little to relive my conscience about the matter.”

  “We are still investigating a few things that went on over there.”

  “Oh?” The Admiral looked surprised. “Why is that?”

  “Well, sir, some things still don’t add up.”

  The Admiral didn’t take any coffee, but he did pick up a pastry and take a small bite. “We launched a complete investigation.”

  “With little findings, I might add,” H
arper said. “It was a rather sloppy job in my opinion.”

  The Admiral looked intrigued. “Tell me more.”

  She shrugged. “Seven men were slaughtered, our Intel equipment was tampered with, nearly destroyed, and we just recently found out the full scope of the enemy’s involvement.”

  “I see.” The Admiral finished his snack and brushed his hands together. “So, is that why you’re here?”

  Rye cleared his throat. “Why were we sent there in the first place?”

  “Well, we learned from the CIA that there was a tremendous amount of money from the nearby poppy fields being funneled to two different terrorist groups. We had to shut it down at all cost.”

  “But, when Rye and his team failed, you didn’t send anyone else.”

  “That was an oversight.” The Admiral tried to justify. “There were three more attacks and all our resources were used protecting the homeland.”

  “Not SEALS.” Rye cocked his head. “We were all still sent on missions overseas.”

  “That was because after what happened to your Team several hotspots kept cropping up and the Qalat poppy fields failed to get the support needed to take it out.”

  “Who decided that?” Harper asked.

  “Senator Byron Cummings. He grew concerned we were spreading ourselves too thin.”

  “So, all these years you just let Habib Karzi continue to grow his poppies and fund the terrorists?” Rye’s voice rose.

  “I think we can only do so much.”

  Harper sat up and leaned forward. “But, surely you’re aware if you shut off their source of money they can’t do anything?”

  “I do, but I don’t call all the shots. These days politicians run wars more than we do.” A look of resignation covered his aging face. “We don’t like it, but generally we have to accept it as the way things are done.”

  Rye glanced at her, his eyes slightly narrowed “Do you know, or have you heard of, a Lieutenant Commander Sullivan?”

  The admiral shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “The State Department recently sent him to Qalat to retrieve two prisoners in a hostage exchange. We’ve since learned he may have made a side deal with Karzi to split the money.”

  Admiral Van Gundy shook his head in dismay. “That’s the State Department’s business.”

  “Doesn’t Cummings have oversight over the State Department?”

  “He used to be the director until he was elected to Congress.”

  “So, that’s a yes?” Harper asked.

  The Admiral nodded.

  Rye stood and held out his hand. “Thank you for your time, Admiral.”

  They were shown to the door without another word, but Harper’s mind churned with possibilities. Now they had to find a connection between Sully and Cummings.

  They drove back to Washington, DC, and met with Crash. He wasn’t happy they hadn’t found out anything. “Do you think Admiral Van Gundy is hiding anything?” he asked.

  “No,” Rye said. “I get the feeling he was pretty frustrated with the way things were run in Washington.”

  “Yeah, all military personnel are. But there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  He glanced at Harper. “She and I think there must be a connection between Sully and Congressman Cummings.”

  Crash wrinkled his brow. “Really? What does he have to do with this?”

  “Well, he’s the one who put a halt to taking out the poppy fields in Qalat.” Harper said. “Why would he make a move like that when doing so was a number one priority for the CIA?”

  Crash rubbed his chin. “That a good question, Harper. One you need to find the answer to.”

  Rye held out his hand. “But how?” He glanced at Harper. “We can’t just march up to him and ask.”

  Crash pointed to Harper. “She has unlimited resources and she’s great at her job. If anyone can get to the truth, it’s her.”

  Harper scooted to the edge of her chair. “Do you really mean unlimited?”

  Crash nodded.

  “So, let’s say I were to authorize a wiretap on the Congressman’s communication devices. You’re telling me I won’t be standing before a grand jury in six months?”

  “I’m saying if you find who took that money and who on this side of the world contributed to the death of seven Navy SEALS, there ain’t nobody coming after your ass. Not unless they crawl over me and the President first.”

  Harper came to her feet. “That’s all I needed to know.”

  “When you learn the connection, contact me and I’ll see that it is taken care of. But, I have to have solid proof.”

  They left Crash’s office with Harper hurrying toward the elevator. “Hey, where are we going?”

  “To a pawn shop.”

  “Why?”

  “Camera. We’re going to need proof that connects Sully and Cummings and I’ll bet my retirement they meet regularly.”

  “But we don’t know where.”

  “We will when we bug their houses.”

  “Oh, crap. What if we get caught?”

  The elevator dinged and she stepped inside, smiling. “You’re a Navy SEAL. If you can’t manage to plant a few listening devices, what kind of SEAL are you?”

  “Probably a smart one.”

  “We just got the okay from Silas. I want to get this over with and back to our little cabin.” She rose to her tiptoes and kissed him soundly on the lips.

  He instantly wrapped his arms around her waist. “Let’s go back to the hotel room and spend a little R&R first.”

  She backed out of his embrace and slapped at his hand. “I want this behind us. Then we play.”

  They hit a pawn shop then drove to Langley where he had to wait in the lobby for her. She came back and they returned to the car.

  “What did you do in there, Little Miss Spy?”

  “I got a few toys that will help us bring down Sully and Cummings. The CIA has also agreed to help. That means any camera that picks up the two of them, they’ll notify us.”

  “Wow! Talk about big brother.”

  She grinned and shut the car door. “You have no idea.”

  Back at the hotel, Rye waited for nightfall. They’d argued because Harper wanted to go with him tonight to plant the devices she’d come back with, but he refused. They could be killed, and he refused to put her life in danger. Besides, she was better off staying in the room listening to conversations.

  She let out a deep sigh. “Nothing between the two.”

  “Maybe Sully purchased a burner.”

  “He would if he was that smart, but remember, Rye, he has no clue we’re on to him. Silas has backed off to give him the impression they successfully pulled off whatever they were planning.”

  “Yeah, there’s that.” He pulled on a pair of black jeans and picked up the black ski mask. “I hate covert work in the States. Hell, everyone and his brother has a damn security system.”

  “You’ve gotten past those before.”

  “I have, but don’t forget, I’m retired.”

  “Ha, and I’m Santa Claus,” she teased.

  He scowled. “That would be Mrs. Claus to you.”

  He kissed her gently on the cheek and headed for the door. “You stay here. I don’t want to have to worry about you.”

  “Oh, but it’s okay if I sit here twiddling my thumbs and worrying about you?”

  He grinned. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

  He closed the door then heard what sounded like a shoe hitting the door. He chuckled as he made his way out of the building.

  He’d gotten another non-descript vehicle from the FBI earlier that morning. This way, if someone suspected he and Harper were in town they wouldn’t recognize the car.

  He parked down the block from Sully’s house and made his way to the back entrance. He’d used a laser gun to blow out the outside security lights. The gadget didn’t bust the bulb, it just disrupted the electricity flow. A person would just think the bulb had burned out.
>
  His back against the rear door, he slid his K-bar knife between the door and the frame and flipped the small lock. Next he picked the major lock and found himself inside the darkened house without an alarm sounding. God, Harper was good.

  Not familiar with the interior, he slid on his night vision goggles and began his search. Through the kitchen and down a hall, he came to Sully’s study. After checking through a few drawers he realized there wasn’t anything there.

  However, he managed to break into his computer and download the contents onto a flash drive. After planting several bugs and a few miniature cameras, he headed upstairs where he assumed Sully would be sleeping.

  He put his foot on the first step leading upstairs and he heard a noise. He paused and stood perfectly still. Again, he heard something. Rye glanced down at his watch. It was 0300 and Sully was still awake?

  That told Rye he had something on his mind that kept sleep at bay. Maybe it had something to do with a guilty conscience. He looked at the listening device and the small camera in his gloved palm. He had to make sure the entire house was rigged or they might miss something.

  Rye softly went up the stairs and noticed the light spreading out from beneath the door. The master bedroom.

  Rye carefully waited outside in the hall. Eventually Sully would either go to the bathroom or to sleep. He’d wait.

  “Okay,” he heard Sully say. “Tomorrow at Lincoln Park at two. I’ll be by the statue.”

  There was a pause.

  “The Lincoln statue. And don’t be late or I’m taking the money and leaving. I’m sick of this fucking place.”

  He heard a heavy sigh then the sound of someone sitting on a bed. Evidently, he was turning in for the night, finally.

  Rye continued to wait for Sully to fall asleep. Only when he was certain his target was out did Rye enter the room. The door squeaked slightly but not enough for the lump on the bed to move.

  With silent steps, he reached the side of the bed. Careful not to make a sound, he planted the bug on the lamp on the table next to the sleeping Sully. Then he picked up the small alarm clock and attached the camera on the very edge of the bottom where the lens peeked out slightly. Satisfied he’d completed his mission, he slowly backed out of the room and closed the door.