by JL Curtis
“Now, gunny, do you recognize that stack of paperwork I just gave you?”
“Yes, sir, this is my interview given to Ranger Clay Boone and another Ranger at the scene on Sunday evening,” Matt replied.
“Okay, now let’s start with your departure from Quantico and go from there.”
Matt recounted the trip and had gotten up to the point of arriving and the Tate place when the corporal knocked on the door and stuck her head in. “Colonel, there’s a US Attorney on the line from Texas, and he’s pretty insistent. Do you want to take it, or have him call back?”
“Texas, huh?” Looking at Matt he said, “Something tells me this is about you. Stay here, but be quiet. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Carson got up and walked behind his desk. Nodding to the corporal, he said, “Okay, conference it in here, but stay on the line and take notes please.”
Seconds later the phone rang. “MCB Pendleton, Judge Advocate General’s office, Colonel Carson speaking, this is not a secure line, subject to monitoring. May I help you?”
Listening for a minute he said, “Deal, and your first name and initials please? Uh huh, phone number?”
Scribbling notes on the pad he listened again. “Well, I need more information that Mr. Deal, we have at any given time in excess of two thousand Marines here, and I’m sure there are a lot of Carters and Millers. And, no, I don’t know them all.”
Listening again, he sat, looking thoughtful. “Well, I need their socials and also their reporting commands if you have them. No, I’m not sure either of them are here; no I don’t have ready access to something like that.”
A minute later, Carson smiled like a shark and pumped his fist. “Tell you what, why don’t you fax me those pieces of paper, since they seem to have what I need on them. My fax is 4425551212.”
After another minute, he added, “No, Mr. Deal, simply put, that is not good enough. I need both the warrants and whatever those documents were that you read the information from. Simple, fax that to me, and I’ll get with S-1[22] and see if we can find them.”
The colonel paused, listening. “No, Mr. Deal, if they are here they will be confined in accordance with UCMJ procedures pending further official documentation from you. Again my fax is 4445551212. Thank you.”
Hanging up, Carson walked back to the conference table. “Okay, that was about you and Miller. That asshole wants you arrested and turned over to federal custody, preferably today. Ain’t gonna happen. Why don’t you take a break and get some coffee and hit the head, I need about a half hour here.”
Matt got up. “Yes, sir, when I get back I’ll wait in the outer office?”
Distracted, Carson mumbled, “Fine.” As he wrote more notes on the yellow pad.
As Matt left, he noted the Corporal pulling pages off the fax machine. Shrugging, he wandered down the hall, hit the head, and went in search of some coffee.
The corporal came in with the faxes, handed them to the colonel. “Here you are sir. These are redacted all to hell, unlike what we got the other day.”
Glancing over them, he said, “Okay, take these and the statements we got on Tuesday and send those to the US Attorney’s office in San Diego, attention to Ken Carson. You’ve got the number, right?”
Gathering up the papers she said, “Yes, sir. Got it in speed dial!”
Grinning, the colonel added, “Time to stir the pot, corporal. Time to stir the pot!”
Carson got another cup of coffee and returned to his office, dialing the phone he waited for an answer. “Hey Marjory, this is the good looking Carson. Is the ugly one there?”
Laughing, he said, “Well, those papers on the fax are for him, and I do need to talk to him most skosh.”
Glancing back over his notes, he waited and popped his pen on the desk. Finally the phone transferred. “Hey, Ken, Bill here. Got a strange one this morning. You ever hear of a US Attorney out of Dallas named Deal? Sort of an asshole?”
Hearing a negative, he continued, “No, I got a call in the blind this morning, wanting me to arrest these two Marines and turn them over to y’all.”
Listening he said, “Okay, see what you can find out and give me a call back, will ya?” I gotta go talk to S-1 and see if they even exist here. K, Say hi to Carol for me.”
Thirty minutes later, Matt returned to the JAG office and was immediately ushered back into the colonel’s office. They resumed the questioning and walked through the entire shooting and aftermath, including how Aaron was flown out of Texas, and how he and Felix had driven straight through from Texas. As they were wrapping up, the corporal stuck her head in, “Colonel your cousin is on the line.”
Carson went back to his desk and motioned Matt over. “Be quiet. I’m going to put this on speaker, I think you might be interested to hear what he has to say.”
Matt nodded and moved to the front of the desk and the colonel hit speaker and answered, “What you got Ken?”
“Well, it looks like Deal, Alfred Michael one each is one of the new kids this administration is pushing down our throats. And oh by the way, I’ve been told I can retire in three months, or be demoted, since there are at least a couple of new attorneys coming here. Anyway, he’s the new Northern District of Texas US Attorney, and apparently came over from Justice. Not much known about him, but I’m going to tell you both that warrant and the redaction he did stinks. And I don’t understand why he didn’t come through this office to have us make the initial contact. Looking at the statements from both those Marines, I don’t see anything that points to a murder charge, much less anything else; unless it’s a medal for doing good!”
The colonel looked at Matt. “So, Ken, what would you suggest I do if these Marines do turn out to be aboard the base?”
“Honestly, I’d keep them there and not admit a damn thing,” Ken said. “But I gotta ask, if you only got the redacted paperwork from Texas, where did that set of statements come from?”
The colonel looked up at the ceiling, “Well, Ken, I got a heads up and received a complete copy of the investigation, witness statements, and the memo from the Texas Rangers in Austin clearing not only this Marine but both the deputies, calling it a good shoot. I was told it was quote just in case unquote something like this came up.”
“Where in Texas did this take place?” Ken asked.
“Just outside Fort Stockton, why?”
“Well, Marjory just came in and turned my TV on and there is a replay of a interview on Fox, er… press conference with a Sheriff Rodriguez in Pecos County.”
The colonel looked at Matt, who gave him a thumb’s up.
“Well, Ken I don’t have a TV so fill me…”
Ken interrupted, “Aw shit, that damn Moore is defending the deputies, which explains how you got the info.”
Looking at Matt, who nodded again, the colonel asked, “Moore? Which Moore?”
“That damn Billy Moore,” Ken said. “Deal’s stepped in it big time.”
Staring at Matt, the colonel looked surprised. “Billy Moore the big time Texas lawyer? Why would he be defending two deputies in South Texas?”
“I dunno,” Ken said. “But I need to get off here and make some phone calls. If I were you, I’d lay low and if you find those Marines, keep ‘em close. Gotta go.” And he hung up.
The colonel thoughtfully hung up the phone. “Gunny, did you know that Billy Moore is involved in this?”
Matt unconsciously came to attention. “Yes, sir, Mr. Moore came out to the house Tuesday night and told us what was going on. He’s the one that got Aaron flown out here, and told me to get out of town.”
Almost to himself the colonel asked, “How the hell does a deputy sheriff get Billy Moore doing things for him?”
“Colonel, I may be out of school here, but Mr. Cronin and Mr. Moore were in Fifth Special Forces together; and have stayed in touch. And Mr. Cronin is more than just a deputy sheriff; he’s also rich and owns over three thousand acres of oil wells and cattle. He paid for Aaron�
��s Lear jet without even batting an eye.”
Carson threw up his hands. “Any more good news there, gunny?”
Matt came fully to attention, “Well, sir, Staff Sergeant Miller’s dating his granddaughter and sole heir. She’s the one that Aaron was riding with when he was shot, and she’s the one that took down the two perps in the back.”
“Jesse is a she?” Carson said in amusement.
“Yes, sir,” Matt replied.
“Damn… Okay, we’re done here, go see your cohort in crime and then get checked on base. I’ll route a routine request to S-1 for info on y’all. I’d recommend you continue to live in the TQ until this is sorted out, and we’ll figure out something with your landlord. Dismissed.”
“Yes sir, thank you sir.” Matt did a picture perfect about face and departed.
As Matt was driving over to the hospital, he reflected on the past couple of hours. He just hoped Aaron had been as open and up front as he had. Pulling into the hospital, he realized he had no idea where Aaron’s room was and whether or not he could even see him. Distracted, he parked in the lot and trudged toward the front entrance. He heard someone yell “Gunny,” but figured they wouldn’t be yelling for him, until he heard “Carter.”
Stopping, he turned and saw First Sergeant Brill jogging toward him. “Damn, man, are you deaf or what?” Brill stuck out his hand. “Welcome to the real Marine Corps, Matt. ‘Bout time you came out west and earned your living for a change.”
Matt smiled. “Brillo, how the hell are ya? Long time no see. What? Ten years at least!”
“Yeah, at least, and if you’re gonna start that shit, its back to Casper for you, asshole.”
They both laughed as they walked to the front entrance, “What are you doing here Matt? Looking for Miller?”
“Yeah,” Matt said. “How did you know that?”
“Well, I’m his First, and I was on the way to check on him. He’s been going batshit since they’ve got him isolated, and he’s already tired of the TV channels and wanting out of here. I understand y’all are going to be renting an apartment out in town.”
“Yeah, already got one, but I’ve been told to stay on base until a little situation gets worked out.”
Brill laughed. “Yeah, heard all about that. Come on, I’ll take you back to Miller’s room. Is he a pretty good kid?”
Matt filled Brill in on Aaron’s career to this point, and Brill cleared Matt with the nurse at the nurse’s station. As they walked into the room, Aaron was pushing the remains of a breakfast tray away from the bed and trying, against doctors orders, to get himself up and out of bed so he could go to the head.
Matt got him up on his feet, then shook hands and watched Aaron hobble on his crutches to the head. Coming back, Aaron fiddled with the bed until it was more like a recliner and they filled each other in on the details of each of their trips and their respective interviews with the JAGs. Brill interrupted a couple of times, just to clarify various facts in his own mind.
Brill dropped Aaron’s check-in sheet on the tray and said he had work to do. Shaking hands with Matt, he headed out. The nurse came by and allowed Matt to push Aaron to the cafeteria where they had a typical hospital lunch. Aaron begged Matt to sneak him some McDonalds later to which Matt laughed and said he’d see what he could do. Matt had to go start his check-in at First Marine Division, so he left, promising to return later.
Matt headed back to HQ and S-1 to pick up his paperwork; he spent the rest of the day going from place to place, back to the hospital for an in-processing physical, back to HQ, then housing, over to see the Gunner and get the keys for the range facilities, and he finally got back to the transient quarters at 1700.
Looking disgustedly at the check-in sheet, he realized he was only about half done, and he knew he had a least a full day of inventories at the range, plus meeting his new troops to do. He dug his new base sticker and placement diagram out of his uniform pocket and remembered he had a scraper in the toolbox in the truck, so he decided to change and get the new sticker on. He hadn’t realized until the security person handed him an E-7 gunnery sergeant sticker along with the base sticker that Pendleton used those.
Taking a chance, he dialed the clean phone and the old man answered, Matt filled him in on the events of the day, and updated him on Aaron’s condition. The old man told Matt that Jesse was talking to Aaron now, and Aaron was bitching about the food. Matt laughed and remembered he was supposed to get Aaron a Big Mac.
Changing out of his uniform, he grabbed the stickers and a day pack and headed out the door. Scraping the old sticker and placing the new ones, he figured that was good enough. He drove through McDonalds and grabbed a couple of burgers and fries, eating his on the way to the hospital. In the parking lot, he shoved the other one and fries in the day pack and headed into the hospital.
26 No He Didn’t
US Attorney Ken Carson was in a quandary, so he paged Marjory. “Marj, would you come in please?”
Thirty seconds later, Marjory was sitting in front of his desk. “What’s up boss?”
Flapping the stack of faxed pages, he said, “Marj, I, well, we have a problem. This whole thing with the Marines and these two deputies down in Texas stinks to high heaven, and having to deal with Billy Moore in the middle of it has the makings of a large settlement, or worse. What also concerns me is this Deal in Dallas didn’t even go through us, or the Marshals here; he tried to end run all of us. Marj, ahhh, can you pulse your network and see if there are any good folks left at either Office of Professional Responsibility or Public Integrity that I can dump this pile of crap on? And can you get Willie Stanton over at FBI on the phone? I need to get some more ammo before I take this up the chain.”
Marjory nodded, flipped her steno pad closed and asked, “You want SAC Stanton first or afterward?”
“First, I need to go see him, and that’s a damn hour drive up there.”
Marjory left and a minute later his phone rang. “Carson.”
“Ken, this is Willie, what’s up?”
“Willie, I got a steaming pile of shit dumped in my lap this morning and I need to pick your brain. Can I come see you?”
Willie laughed. “Actually I’m heading into town now, and I’ve got a meeting at ten with the Coasties over that smuggling op they took down last week. How about Perry’s Café there by Old Town? I haven’t had any good pancakes in a long time!”
Ken groaned. “You’re killing my diet. See you there.” Picking up his briefcase he put the faxes in it, locked it and headed out the door. “Marj, I’m meeting Willie at Perry’s back in about an hour.” She nodded as she continued to listen on the phone.
Pulling up in the parking lot at Perry’s, Carson saw Stanton’s unmarked sitting off toward the back of the lot. Pulling in next to him, he grabbed his briefcase off the seat, and they walked into the restaurant together. The waitress recognized them and showed them to a table in the back where they would have some privacy.
After ordering, Carson pulled out the faxed pages and pushed them across the table. “Willie, do you know anything about this? This sounds like something the FBI would be in the middle of, or DEA, or hell maybe even CBP.”
Quickly scanning the flimsies, SAC Stanton alternately nodded and shook his head. He went back to Matt’s testimony and re-read it carefully. He finished just as the food was delivered, and handed the flimsies back to Carson.
“Ken, this isn’t one of ours, or anybody else that I’m aware of. Sounds to me like a stumble on that could have gone the other way in a hurry. I don’t see a damn thing here that would even make me want to look at any of them for murder, much less anything at all. They did what they needed to, extracted the hostages safely and didn’t lose any of the good guys, or girls in this case.”
Nodding around a mouthful of pancakes, Carson agreed. Taking a sip of coffee he said, “Yeah, Willie, that’s the way I read this too. But a bigger concern, at least to me, is that I got these third hand from the Marines, and still
haven’t heard jack shit from Dallas, and apparently this Deal character wanted to have DHS pick up the Marines rather than Marshals. I don’t like that one bit. And the local sheriff down there did a presser this morning that pretty much corroborates the story here, including shot up police car, a hundred keys of coke and two million in cash. And they name the perps as being cartel connected.”
“Ken… Dammit, hang on a second,” Stanton said, as he took out his phone and called one of his agents. “Taylor, what was the name of that expert from Texas that came out and taught the class on smuggling vehicles and boats?”
Listening for a minute he said sharply, “You sure? You’re damn sure about that? Okay, thanks, Taylor.” Hanging up he looked at Carson. “Well, here’s ya one more turd to pile on to that mess. I’m betting that Deputy John Cronin listed in these documents is a DEA and FBI, and hell, probably CIA asset; he’s an expert of smuggling both people and drugs, and he comes out and teaches classes on how to recognize possible vehicles for search, and then how to search them. If he’s the one I think he is, he’s a National Academy grad and gets invited back to teach on a regular basis.”
Carson leaned back. “Shit that means I need to get back and make some calls quickly. We damn sure don’t need any more egg on our faces right now.” Getting up he threw $10 on the table and picked up his briefcase. “Willie, I owe you one. You might have just saved our collective butts here.”
Stanton nodded, and as Carson walked out he took out his phone again and called FBI HQ, getting transferred to the National Academy, he asked for the SAC there, and passed along what he’d just found out. He leisurely finished breakfast, tipped the waitress, and walked out of the restaurant whistling.
Carson walked back into his office. “Any luck, Marj? Please tell me there is somebody left that cares back east, ‘cause this just got a lot worse.”
Marjory looked down at her pad. “Well, everybody down to the deputy directors are all new, but Valdez is still the GC[23], and Makepeace is still the PEP[24] lead. According to the secretaries, those are the only old guys that haven’t been replaced yet. Do you know either of them?”