by L. T. Ryan
“It’s local, a craft beer. Excellent stuff. Brewer is a friend of mine.”
I nodded and took another pull from the brown bottle. Still hadn’t checked the label.
“Anyway, Mr. Noble,” he said, “I’m sure you didn’t come here to discuss local breweries.”
I shook my head and didn’t correct him for calling me Mister instead of Sergeant.
“I take it you confronted Keller?”
“I did.”
“How did it go?”
I reached into my inside pocket and noticed Marlowe tense for a second, the smile fading from his face.
“Relax,” I said as I pulled the small digital recorder from my pocket. “It’s all on here.”
He smiled and walked in front of me and took a seat at the table. He crossed his legs and took a long pull on his beer, then set the bottle down on the table.
“Play it.”
I hit play and placed the digital recorder on the table. Marlowe listened intently, nodding and making eye contact with me occasionally.
“That’s some pretty damning evidence,” he said.
“I’ve got copies.”
He smiled and reached for the recorder. “Don’t worry, Jack. I’ll handle this.”
I grabbed the recorder and pulled it closer. “What will happen to Keller?”
He took another pull from his bottle of beer and stared at me for a moment. “Worst case is a dishonorable discharge.”
“No jail time?”
“I hope so, but you know there are many parties involved in this. It’s up to them how they want to pursue the matter. Implicating Keller might implicate them.”
I shook my head. “He’s responsible for the deaths of at least ten people.”
“I know that and you know that. Hell, the person responsible for making this decision will know it.” He got up and went to the fridge and came back with two more beers, already opened. “This is the dark side of these operations, Jack.”
I nodded. I knew. I knew when I was in his house that it might end up like this. I wanted to kick myself for not taking him out when I had the chance.
“What about me?” I said.
“What about you?” he said.
“I want out.”
“Jack, I’m pretty sure that even if the program is continued, you won’t be invited back in.”
“Not just the program. I want out of the Marines. My enlistment is up in September. I’ve got three months leave accrued. I’m taking my leave and I want my official retirement to be the last day of my leave.”
“I don’t have the power to—”
“Bullshit, Marlowe.”
He shifted in his seat. Crossed his arms over his chest and looked me over.
“Ok, Jack.”
He pulled a cell phone from his coat and placed a call. Five minutes later I had my freedom. He also instructed whoever he spoke with to remove me and Bear from any federal, state and local suspect lists.
“You’re free, Mr. Noble.”
I slid the digital recorder across the table. Marlowe picked it up, studied it and then dropped it into his glass of beer.
“Why?” I tried to appear angry, but felt confused. He knew I had a backup. Did he expect me to push this further or in a different direction? Was this his way of telling me he wasn’t going to do anything?
“Political suicide, Jack. On top of that, imagine when the media gets a hold of this information. A Marine General ordering the deaths of his own men and another commanding officer? It’s best to leave it be, Jack. I’ll take care of Keller in my own way.”
So that was it. He was going to take the political route. He could squeeze anyone I presented the evidence to. I felt like reaching out and striking him. I didn’t. I’d still present the CD to a few contacts and see where we could take it.
I nodded and stood and grabbed the bottle of beer off the table and finished it one pull. I spun the bottle in my hand and the label caught my eye, a coat of arms with two broadswords crossing one another. Double Crossed Breweries. Perfect.
“You did the right thing, Jack. No matter what happens to Keller. Who knows how many lives you saved?”
“Not enough,” I said. “One question, though. If you knew, why didn’t you come down on Keller?”
“I didn’t know. Not one hundred percent. It made sense. Evidence pointed that way. But I would have never got the confession that you did.”
“Not that the confession matters.” I turned and pushed through the door without saying another word.
* * *
Two hours later I stood outside Dulles airport with Bear and Jessie. Bear leaned against a glass wall ten yards away while I talked to Jessie. The sound of planes taking off and landing roared through the air with a rhythmic beat.
“Don’t go, Jess.”
She smiled and leaned forward. “It won’t work, Jack, at least not now.”
“Why?”
“You need time. I need time. We both need—”
“Time,” I said. “Yeah, I got it.”
I turned my head and tried to think of something to say, anything to stop her from leaving.
“What about the other night? I thought that we made, you know, a connection.”
“I think that was just the surprise of seeing you after so long. It’s true I haven’t stopped loving you, Jack. But that doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together.”
“I’m taking three months and getting away. Doing some traveling. I’m going to get my head straight. Back to who I was.”
“You are who you were. And you can’t change who you are now.”
She glanced at her watch.
“Let’s give it a month or so, then. What do you say, Jess?”
She placed a finger to my mouth. Leaned forward and kissed me.
“I have to go now.”
She placed a folded piece of paper in my hand. “That’s my email address.” She turned and walked through the door, into the main terminal.
Bear pushed off the wall and walked toward me, his hand extended. I grabbed it and shook.
“Don’t know what I’m going to do without you around, brother.”
He smiled and wrapped his arm around me. We patted at each other’s backs for a few seconds and then took a step back. He reached down and picked up his bag and gave me a wink. We didn’t say another word. He turned and disappeared through the same set of doors as Jessie.
I stood in the middle of the walkway for five minutes, nearly every fiber of my being told me to follow her. I didn’t, though. Instead, I returned to the rental car and left the airport. Inside the car, I popped the CD that had the recording of Keller’s confession into the car’s CD player. All that came through the speakers was silence. The CD was blank. It contained no confession and no evidence. Jessie had the laptop that held the original file. I had a feeling the track was gone. I cursed under my breath and slammed my fists into the dashboard. I pulled the car over onto the emergency shoulder and tried to call Bear. No answer. He had already turned his phone off. I thought about who else to call, but came up with no names. I had nowhere to go. In the end I decided to let it go. It didn’t matter. I’d check in on Keller’s status, and if I wasn’t satisfied, I’d take care of it myself one day.
I found my way to the interstate and headed north for New York City. Bear hit up a few of his contacts and found Abbot’s daughter using the number I swiped from his phone. I promised him I’d look out for her, and I’d start by letting her know her father had passed. According to Bear’s contact, no next of kin had been informed yet.
It took just under three hours to make it to the city. I found a parking garage within a few miles of her apartment and ditched the car. She had a place in the Village on Bedford Street. I walked from the parking lot to her apartment building. The air was cooler here than in D.C. Still, not too bad for six in the evening. The sun was setting and streetlights were kicking on. I passed a coffee shop and stopped in for a cup, partly because I needed the
burst of caffeine, and partly because I dreaded giving Clarissa the news.
I took my time drinking the coffee and reading a few pages of the newspaper that had been left on the table. It revealed that there was nothing new in the world. It had been six months since the attacks on the Twin Towers. I wondered if life was truly back to normal here in the city. I knew it wasn’t for me. I wondered if it ever would be.
I assumed the teams were still operating in Afghanistan. I hoped that the combined power of the CIA and Armed Forces Spec Ops teams would bring Bin Laden and all those involved to justice, no matter how long it took. Our involvement in Iraq worried me. It seemed like a foregone conclusion that the work we were doing there would lead to more conflict.
The waitress interrupted my thoughts and asked if I’d like anything else. I smiled and told her no. I dropped a twenty on the table and left before she brought the check.
Clarissa’s apartment was only a few blocks from the coffee shop. Despite its close proximity, it took me half an hour to reach it. I stood in front of the cracked green painted door for another five minutes before knocking.
She answered the door. Squinted at me and then smiled.
“Jack?”
It had been a few years since I had last seen her. She was still a scrawny teen at that time. She wasn’t much older than a teen now, if at all, but she sure as hell wasn’t scrawny anymore. The little girl I’d met all those years ago was now a woman.
“Hey, Clarissa,” I said.
She reached out and hugged me.
“What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah, sure.” She took a step back and pulled the door open. She waved me through and closed and locked the door behind me. “Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you a drink?”
“Nah, I mean, yeah. Something hard. Got any whiskey?”
“Sure,” she said as she crossed the room to the kitchen.
“Can I smoke in here?”
“Yeah, there’s an ashtray on the table in front of you.”
I smiled. I hadn’t noticed it. I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off of her since I stepped through the door. I lit a cigarette and leaned over the coffee table. I tried a dozen times to start the inevitable conversation while she fixed my drink.
She returned to the room, set the drink in front of me and took a seat across from me.
“What brings you to New York, Jack?”
I took a drink from the glass. The hard liquor burned down my throat and warmed my stomach.
“I don’t know how to put this, so I’m just going to say it.”
She sat back and crossed her arms. One hand went to her chin. Her eyes grew wide and she bit her bottom lip.
“Your father is dead. He was murdered.”
She gasped and took a deep breath. Her green eyes watered and a tear slipped past the corner of her bottom lid and traveled down her cheek.
“I killed the man who did it. Got a confession from the man who arranged it.”
“Who? Who was it?”
“You don’t know the man who pulled the trigger. Martinez, a CIA asshole. But the man…” My voice trailed off. She knew Keller. The first time I met her, Keller was there. Keller and Abbot had been close. The man was like an uncle to her. “Keller. It was General Keller who ordered it.”
She lifted her eyebrows and leaned forward. The tears flowed faster.
I set my drink down and slid off the couch. I walked over to her and dropped to my knees in front of her. Wrapped my arms around her and held her tight. She cried and talked, then cried some more. I held her and listened. We stayed up late into the morning hours, drinking and smoking. By the end of the night she seemed at peace with her father’s passing. Or maybe she was drunk enough that she’d gone numb.
The next morning I woke up on her couch with a slight headache. She was in the kitchen making breakfast. I walked over and sat down at the breakfast counter.
“I’m going on a trip for three months. But I’ve got a new cell phone and will be available if you need anything.” I put my new phone up on the counter. It was a hell of a phone. It connected to the internet and could even send emails. The guy that sold it to me was completely geeked out about it. I really didn’t care, but since I would be traveling, I figured it would be a good thing to have. Maybe the email part would help me to reconnect with Jessie. Although, at that moment, I was struggling to recall much about her.
Clarissa turned and smiled.
“If you want to tag along, you’re welcome to do so,” I said.
She laughed and walked over to the counter and leaned into it, facing me. I had to fight back the urge to kiss her.
“I haven’t seen you in, what, four or five years now? And you want to walk in and sweep me off my feet?”
I smiled and looked away. “It’s not that. I promised your dad I’d take care of you. Watch over you.”
“Honey, I’ve been watching over myself for years. I’ll be OK.”
“Well, give me your email address so I can keep up with you.”
She laughed and snatched my phone off the counter. A minute later she set it back down in front of me. “It’s in there now.”
Great, I thought. Now I just need to figure out how to access it.
A minute later she set a plate with two eggs and five strips of bacon in front of me. I ate it quickly and then got to my feet. I wrote my phone number down and left it on the middle of the counter.
“I’ll be in touch,” I said.
She met me at the door and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Her mouth lingered there for longer than it should have. I thought about turning my head and brushing her lips with mine. I wanted to turn my head. In the end, I didn’t. It didn’t feel right. Too close to her father’s death.
“See ya,” she said as she closed the door behind me.
Chapter 21
It turned out I didn’t travel all that much. I took a plane to Miami, a cab across a few bridges and found a small apartment above a bar for rent in the Keys. Two and a half relaxing months passed in the blink of an eye. The place was above a locals bar. At least the majority of its patrons were locals. I made a few friends. My hair grew longer, as did my beard. It felt awkward, but I went with it.
I kept in touch with Clarissa. We talked or emailed once a week. She had moved on and seemed to be doing well for herself. Her father’s life insurance policy paid nicely and would take care of her for a while. I encouraged her to use the money to go to college. She planned to spend it all on a two year journey through Europe.
I had emailed Jessie soon after arriving here and asked her to join me. She only replied with a maybe and an apology for deleting the file and not burning it to the CD. She feared for her parents’ safety. Martinez and Keller had threatened her that day they held her hostage. I was pissed that I had trusted her enough to handle the CD. Should have done it myself or at least watched over the process. I told her not to worry about it. Under the circumstances, I understood. Gave her a deadline to come to the Keys and told her that after that point I’d be unavailable. I don’t know if that statement had any truth to it or not, but I couldn’t go on waiting forever.
The deadline loomed, now just a few hours away.
I sat outside at a table on the bar’s patio. On either side of me was an empty bistro table. A few people joined me throughout the day. They’d stay anywhere from a couple minutes up to an hour. It just depended on who and where the conversation went. I stayed sober during most of the day and only started drinking around two that afternoon. At four I didn’t feel drunk, but I certainly felt the effects of the alcohol.
“Noble,” a voice called through the open window just above my head.
“Yeah,” I said without looking back or standing.
“Got a call for you.”
I looked at my watch. Four fifteen.
“Man or woman?”
“Man.”
“Take a message.” I didn’t feel like
talking.
My spot had a nice view of the water. Not a full view, but decent enough. It was early June. The sun stayed out until close to nine at night. I had every intention of sitting there until then. I had told Jessie six p.m. But I’d wait until nine. Or until I drank enough that I couldn’t sit upright anymore.
As the next two hours passed, I found myself looking further and further down the street in an effort to spot her.
“Today’s the day, eh, Noble?”
I smiled at the elderly couple who sat down at the table with me. Ralph had been a computer salesman in upstate New York. He and Marcy had been married for forty years. They left the cold a few years back for the laid-back lifestyle the Keys could offer those with the money to afford it.
Marcy straightened Ralph’s blue Hawaiian print button up shirt and then leaned toward me.
“She’ll show, Jackie.”
Most people here simply called me Noble. For some reason, Marcy saw me as the son or grandson she never had and insisted on calling me Jackie. I stopped protesting after the first week. It was quite obvious she wasn’t changing her stance.
“We’ll see.”
“Don’t get his hopes up, Marcy.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ralph,” I said.
We talked for half an hour about nothing in particular. They offered to pay for my drinks. I declined and paid for theirs. It was a game of sorts, who could throw their hands up and protest the longest and the loudest. Four times out of five, they won. Tonight they let me take the glory.
Ralph looked down at his watch. “Six p.m. We should go and leave you to your woman.” He winked and helped Marcy out her chair. The couple joined hands and slipped through the open entrance of the bar and joined the rest of the Key West crowd who had become my family.
Six o’clock passed, and there was no sign of Jessie. I leaned back in my seat and stared out at the ocean. I lost myself in the crystal blue waters and sounds of locals and tourists on the street and beach. I had dropped into such a deep zone that I didn’t notice someone standing in front of me.
I shifted my gaze and looked at the person. It wasn’t who I hoped it would be.
“Jack Noble.” Not a question. The man knew me. He stood with his hands on his hips. His jacket pushed just enough to the side that I could see the handle of his pistol. What I didn’t see was a badge. He had to be a fed, though. Who the hell would be in Key West dressed in a suit in the middle of June? I found myself wishing I still carried a gun with me everywhere I went. Unfortunately, it didn’t jive with swim trunks and a tank top.