by Don Brown
“Don’t move,” he said. “Just be still.” His voice diminished to a whisper. “Perhaps your last minutes on earth may be more enjoyable than you think.”
The steel gun barrel touched the middle of her head, igniting a cold rush that started in her neck and ran down her spine. He brought his left index finger to his lips and gave her a hideous shushing, about to deliver the coup de grâce.
She prayed silently that somehow God would stop him in his tracks, but that if he pulled the trigger, God would take her to heaven with Jesus.
“Now, if you’ll just cooperate, you will enjoy immense pleasure before your death.”
“What are you doing?”
“Something I’ve always wanted to do. Something you wanted to do with your P.J. But P.J. can’t compete with me. And he never could.”
“Mark, no. Just go ahead and shoot me. Please.”
“Shut up!” He pushed her down onto the sofa and forced his mouth onto hers.
“No!” She tried to scream, but he stuffed his hand over her mouth.
She managed to free her hand and scratch him hard across the face. He pulled his hand away in reaction. Then as she belted out a loud scream, he slapped her across the face.
“You will cooperate!” he demanded.
“Never! Just kill me now!”
“Not until I get what I want!”
She tried scratching him again, and this time he punched her in the mouth. The room spun and a galaxy of stars rushed across her eyes. Somehow she wound up on the floor, although she wasn’t sure if she fell or if he pushed her. She looked up.
He again brought his face close to hers—so close she could smell his breath—and tried to kiss her. Struggling against him, she freed her hand and poked him in the eyes.
“Aaaahh!” He slapped her again and blurted an obscenity, then a string of obscenities. “So you won’t do this the easy way? Well, we can do this the hard way! No reason you have to be alive during all this.” He reached up and grabbed a pillow off the sofa and shoved it down over her face and nose.
“I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!” she screamed as a claustrophobic feeling of panic and suffocation blanketed her body and lungs.
“What are you doing?” She heard another man’s voice. The pillow dropped off her nose as Paul Kriete yanked Mark back by the collar. Caroline rushed over to her.
Mark turned and threw a punch. Paul punched back.
“Get out of the room,” Caroline said to Victoria. “I’m calling 911.”
In a blur, like two Tasmanian devils in a dust cloud, the men rolled on the floor, angrily punching each other, each trying to gain superior leverage over the other.
“Yes, I need police here! Right now!” Victoria heard Caroline screaming into her cell phone as Paul pushed Mark down, shoulder blades first, like a wrestler about to pin his opponent.
Paul appeared to have subdued him. But then Mark, with his shoulders pinned, slipped his hand into the pocket of his bathrobe.
“He’s got a gun!” Victoria screamed. As Mark pulled the pistol from his pocket, Paul lunged for it.
A shot rang out.
In a moment of eerie silence, except for jazz music playing low in the background, the fighting was over.
Both men lay on the floor, motionless.
EPILOGUE
ARLINGTON NATIONAL CEMETERY
AFTERNOON
Under the midafternoon sky, alone in thought, Caroline sat in her car in the parking lot with her sunroof open and windows down. She was glad she opened the windows, for the sparrows, cardinals, and purple martins sang melodically, making a joyful noise to the Lord that was just as beautiful, if not more so, as the finest anthem of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.
The birds’ chorus brought with it a single gust of cool breeze, carrying the smell of flowers into the car like a sweet, light perfume. Perhaps gardenias, but she wasn’t sure, and it didn’t really matter.
P.J. was here. At least his body was here. And she could sit here forever. Right now this was the most beautiful place on earth.
She had thought about inviting Victoria to join her. What an amazing friend Victoria had turned out to be, going from a vicious competitor for P.J.’s romantic affections to a friend who almost laid down her life in a brave scheme to attract P.J.’s murderer. Caroline had misjudged her at first.
But at the end of the day, she decided she wanted to be alone. Alone with P.J.
And now there was but one more matter she needed to check on. She looked at her watch. 1500 hours.
The vote should be complete by now.
She flipped on her satellite radio.
“This is Tom Miller from our Fox News studios in New York with breaking news from Washington.
“The United States Congress has narrowly approved a line-item appropriation for the largest military or civilian drone contract in history. Under the name Operation Blue Jay, the U.S. Navy will operate fifty thousand drones off the coastal waters of the United States and along the internal borders between the United States and Mexico, for the purpose of maintaining the stability of the borders and to ensure the United States is protected from invasion by sea or along its inland borders.
“The project as approved was scaled back from the original proposal, which called for some one hundred thousand drones to be shared jointly by the Navy and the Department of Homeland Security. But that idea was shelved when the Judge Advocate General of the Navy expressed concern in a legal opinion that the proposed joint use might violate the time-honored legal doctrine of posse comitatus, which prevents military assets from being used in domestic law-enforcement operations.
“The JAG opinion, co-drafted by two Navy JAG officers, the late Lieutenant Commander P.J. MacDonald and Lieutenant Commander Caroline McCormick, also expressed concern that domestic use of the drones inside the borders of the United States could raise Fourth Amendment concerns and violate citizens’ rights to privacy without the issuance of search warrants, even when operated by the Department of Homeland Security.
“The scaled-down contract was awarded to defense contractor AirFlite out of Savannah, Georgia, and the first Navy Drone Command will be headed by Rear Admiral Select Paul Madison Kriete, who was today nominated by President Surber, with his final promotion to rear admiral to be confirmed by the senate.
“And speaking of Rear Admiral Select Kriete, he was personally involved in solving one of the most horrifying murder conspiracies against naval officers in history, having stopped the aggression of two different men, one being a rogue NCIS officer, who were involved in attacks on JAG officers.
“That JAG murder mystery was addressed at the Pentagon earlier today by Vice Admiral Zack Brewer, the Judge Advocate General of the Navy. Here is some of what Admiral Brewer had to say.”
Caroline felt her heart leap. Just the sound of Zack Brewer’s name and the soothing sound of his voice brought comfort to every member of the JAG Corps.
“Good afternoon,” Brewer said. “Thank you for coming. It’s been a tough couple of weeks for the Navy, and especially the JAG Corps. But our duty in service to our country goes on, and I am pleased to report two things. First, the JAG Corps has done its duty in providing legal advice to the Secretary of the Navy on the proposed drone contract for Operation Blue Jay, and we’re expecting congressional approval today. Indeed, by the time you hear my voice, Congress may have already approved that project.
“Second, I’ve just received a call from the director at NCIS at Quantico, with information on the identity of shooters launching attacks on several JAG officers at Code 13.
“Ballistics and forensics show that the Glock 9-millimeter pistol used in the killing of Lieutenant Ross Simmons and the attempted murder of Lieutenant Victoria Fladager was owned by a Vinnie Torrenzano of New York, who was shot dead in a shoot-out with NCIS agents in Washington. Mr. Torrenzano’s fingerprints were all over that weapon, as well as shell casings found in the gun. This was the same gun used in the attempted murder of
Lieutenant Commander Caroline McCormick. Additionally, Mr. Torrenzano’s car, a red Mercedes, was spotted at the Simmons shooting and at the shooting of Commander McCormick at the Pentagon. Forensics also suggests that Mr. Torrenzano was involved in the murder of a young family—a father, a mother, and a little girl in the Oxford Hunt section of West Springfield, Virginia—and that murder was connected with his plan to kill JAG officers. Mr. Torrenzano’s motivation appears to be that he wanted to block the legal opinion written by these JAG officers, which authorized, partially, the drone contract. That’s all I have on Mr. Torrenzano at this time.
“Moving on to Lieutenant Commander P.J. MacDonald’s killer, I regret that this appears to have been the work of a rogue NCIS agent, Special Agent Mark Romanov, who was killed in his home in a struggle over his gun as he tried to murder yet another JAG officer who had blown his cover. Special Agent Romanov, who is the agent who shot and killed Vinnie Torrenzano, is tied to Commander MacDonald’s murder through a gun, a .357 revolver he planted on Mr. Torrenzano’s desk to try to pin the MacDonald murder on Torrenzano.
“He is also tied to the MacDonald murder through photographic evidence found on his computer, and by a confession he made to one of our JAG officers. I can’t go into any more details at this time and will defer further questions on these cases to NCIS and local law enforcement.
“But suffice it to say, we do not consider any of our officers still under any threat, and to all military and civilian personnel who have brought this horrendous nightmare to a close, I would like to thank you on behalf of the U.S. Navy and the U.S. Navy JAG Corps.”
Caroline flipped off the radio.
She should be ecstatic. After all, how many lawyers could say they drafted a legal opinion that led to passage of a bill by the U.S. Congress based on that recommendation?
But she could feel nothing other than satisfaction in the fulfillment of her duties.
She got out of the car and started walking toward P.J.’s grave.
As she strolled across the lush green grass under clear Carolina-blue skies, words came to her that she had memorized in Raleigh, back when she was a student at Ravenscroft School, and then again as an American history major at UNC.
“We cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men living and dead who struggled here have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract.”
These were the words of President Abraham Lincoln, spoken over 157 years ago at another national cemetery, in Gettysburg, after one of the bloodiest battles in American history.
Almost miraculously, she remembered the next lines of the speech, walking across the graves of the dead through a sea of green grass punctuated by small white flags.
It was almost as if she had learned them yesterday.
“The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.”
The Lord did work in mysterious ways, she decided, allowing the words spoken by a president two centuries before to assuage her grief as she set out to complete this, her last devotion to the duty she had begun when she arrived in Washington.
This time she spoke the words aloud.
“ ‘It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth.’ ”
And when she had finished speaking, with goose bumps on her arms and tears in her eyes, she looked down at the white gravestone of the only man she had ever loved.
A simple cross was carved into the top, front center, and under that was the inscription:
Peter Jefferson (“P.J.”) MacDonald
Lieutenant Commander
Judge Advocate General’s Corps
United States Navy
“Code 13”
A small American flag planted in the ground beside the grave flapped in the breeze, like the thousands of others dotting the massive cemetery.
Off in the distance, perhaps a half mile away, the U.S. Air Force conducted a burial of one of its own. But no one else was around, at least not in the immediate vicinity.
She was here, alone with P.J., just like she wanted it.
She brought her hand to her cover, saluting the grave, then dropped the salute. And then she dropped down to her knees, as if to have a more intimate conversation.
“P.J., I’m sure you’re in a better place. And I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but I pray to God that somehow he’ll open the portals of heaven and let you hear me one last time.”
She wiped a tear from her cheek, and as she did, a cardinal landed on the tombstone.
That brought a smile to her face. God was good.
The cardinal flew away, disappearing into the blue sky.
“I finished the job you started, and today Congress approved the contract. I wrote it just like I think you wanted it. In a way to strengthen us against enemy invasion but also to protect the Constitution. You were such a patriot.”
She fell silent, allowing herself to absorb the beauty of the moment.
“I’m leaving Washington, P.J. I know I just got here, but I asked Admiral Brewer to approve orders to send me back to the fleet. I’m leaving for San Diego in the morning, where I’ll take over as senior JAG on the USS George Washington.” She wiped another tear. “I always wanted to go to an aircraft carrier. Now I’ll get my wish.”
Another cool gust descended across the cemetery.
“Anyway, Paul Kriete is a nice guy, and he’s a great officer. Just got picked up for admiral, and it’s well deserved. But he’s not you.” She paused again. “You’re the only man I’ve ever loved, and you’re the only man I will ever love.”
She stood up, her eyes locked on the grave marker just for a few more moments.
“And so now I will take my capacity to love and love that which you loved. My dedication and my service will be to the U.S. Navy, and memories of your smiling face will burn in my heart forever.”
She bent down, kissed the grave marker, then stood and gave him a final salute.
“With fair winds and following seas, my love. Until we meet again—in heaven.”
She turned and walked away.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
With special acknowledgment and gratitude to my “West Coast Editor,” U.S. Army Veteran Jack Miller of La Mesa, California, who along with his lovely wife Linda, have generously supported the San Diego Zoo, the Lambs Players Theater of Coronado and San Diego, and the San Diego Wild Animal Park.
With special acknowledgment and gratitude to the following churches and their pastors, all of whom have had a positive influence upon the author:
• The First Christian Church of Plymouth, North Carolina—Rev. Tom Banks, Pastor
• The First Baptist Church of Lemon Grove, California—Rev. Jeffrey Lettow, Pastor
• Calvary Church—Charlotte, North Carolina—Dr. John Munro, Senior Pastor
• Forest Hill Church—Charlotte, North Carolina—Dr. David Chadwick, Senior Pastor
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. Are you concerned about drones over the United States? Why or why not?
2. Lieutenant Commander P.J. MacDonald struggles over which way he should slant his opinion letter to the Secretary of the Navy, and penned two different letters, one concluding one way, and one concluding another. What was Lieutenant Commander MacDonald struggling over, and can you relate to his struggle? How would you have written your recommendation to the Secretary of the Navy?
3. Lieutenant Commander MacDonald, in his original memo to the Secretary of the Navy, mentions a
geographic zone “within 100 miles of the seacoast of all the United States,” which he calls a “Fourth Amendment – Free Zone,” otherwise known as the “Constitution-Free Zone,” where stops can be made without search warrants. Did you know there was such a zone? Does this concern you? Why do you think most Americans don’t know about this sort of thing?
4. Are you willing to sacrifice personal freedoms under the Constitution for national security? Why or why not?
5. Are there passages in the novel suggesting that Senator Bobby Talmadge is a believer in Christ? Do you believe that he was a believer? Why or why not?
6. Would you have advised Senator Talmadge to act differently once he was exposed? If so, how?
7. This novel features two principal female characters, U.S. Navy JAG Officers Caroline McCormick and Victoria Fladager. What are the strengths and weaknesses of each character?
8. Which of the two lead women, Caroline McCormick or Victoria Fladager, do you feel is the stronger character? Discuss your reasons.
9. How does the relationship between Caroline and Victoria evolve, and what can be learned by it?
10. Who is your favorite major character, and who is your least favorite character and why?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Don Brown is the author of The Malacca Conspiracy, The Black Sea Affair, the Navy Justice Series, the Pacific Rim Series, and a submarine thriller that predicted the 2008 shooting war between Russia and Georgia. Don served five years in the U.S. Navy as an officer in the Judge Advocate General’s (JAG) Corps, which gave him an exceptional vantage point into both the Navy and the inner workings “inside the Beltway” as an action officer assigned to the Pentagon. He left active duty in 1992 to pursue private practice, but remained on inactive status through 1999, rising to the rank of lieutenant commander. He and his family live in North Carolina, where he pursues his passion for penning novels about the Navy.