Fredo's Dream: SEAL Brotherhood: Fredo

by Sharon Hamilton

  The three bodies were wrapped in silk after Fredo installed the large white brassiere on Harrison, stuffing it full of rags from a folded stack nearby. Carter applied makeup he’d bought, ending with the lipstick. At last, he put the violet wig on Harrison, handing a black afro and another bright yellow one to the other two teams.

  Cabrera’s horrified expression was hidden behind the wet sterile wipe he had over his mouth and nose.

  “You didn’t see this,” said Kyle as he attempted to pick up the torso of the Secretary. The man was stiff. Cooper massaged his hips and knees, bending them carefully to cheat the effects of rigor, helping Kyle to bring him to near-sitting position. They each wrapped an arm around their cadaver and lifted him off the table. The Secretary’s head bobbed backward and the wig fell off.

  Fredo brought one of the unused saris and wrapped his head and neck several times, crisscrossing his upper chest and fully encasing the wig. The man’s grotesque makeup job had smeared, and Fredo could see there was no way he’d pass for being alive.

  The other two bodies were completely stiff and were wrapped and wheeled behind Kyle and Coop’s package. Fredo made sure the Secretary’s head was braced and watched for leakage. The diaper appeared to be holding.

  The drivers’ expressions bore shock and horror as the three teams brought their packages out the gaping metal rear doors of the morgue. Cabrera motioned for them to help. They opened doors on both sides of the two second seats and watched as the SEALs sat their precious cargo between them. Kyle’s van had the Secretary. T.J. sat in the rear seat, while the Secretary was wedged between Fredo and Coop in the second.

  Their driver had already lost his lunch before he got the motor started. Fredo was having a hard time as well, but was buoyed by the sight of Cabrera giving the thumbs up to Kyle at the metal doors. They all knew there wasn’t much time to get the bodies to the dock.

  Kyle’s phone rang just as they arrived in front of the Italian cruise line gate. “Gotcha. We’re not going anywhere.” He turned and held up his cell, telling them to cover their faces. He took one picture of Fredo and Coop with the Secretary between them. It was one of those photos that would never see the light of day, but might make its way to the bulletin board at the Scupper anonymously.

  A handsome ship’s captain walked down the dock in a starched and impeccable white suit. The guard at the gate opened the entry and allowed the vans to enter. The guard peered into the car, and then abruptly pulled back after getting a whiff of the Secretary.

  The captain walked up to Coop’s window and tapped it.

  “Holy shit,” mumbled Coop. “It’s Teseo!” Coop rolled down the glass. “Careful, you might want to hold your nose a bit,” he warned.

  Fredo had never been so happy to see their Italian friend in his life. Teseo had helped them overcome the terrorists three years ago who threatened to hijack the cruise liner they had been vacationing on. Fredo was glad someone had kept in contact with the former Italian Special Forces commando.

  “Way to go, Teseo. You got room for three additional passengers?” said Fredo with a salute.

  “That’s Captain Teseo Dominichello to you, Frodo,” the handsome officer returned. “I have just the spot. A little on the cool side, but lucky for you, we’re taking on food for the Atlantic crossing, so our freezer is fully stocked but we have an additional freezer in the cargo hold.” He nodded to the Secretary.

  “You heard from Nouri?”

  “Yessir.” Teseo came around to Kyle’s side and as Kyle got out, the two embraced.

  Two dark-skinned men brought a large stainless steel food storage container on wheels and opened the side doors. The SEALs slipped the Secretary in first and then added the two from the second van under the worried eyes of the two ship’s crew. The doors were closed and whisked away toward the body of the ship, the two crewmembers chattering and fully animated.

  “I don’t know how you did it, but thanks,” said Kyle.

  “No problem. I owe a lot to your boys, and besides, I’ll be soon able to purchase one of those beautiful cherry red Ferraris we saw last cruise, remember?”

  Kyle smiled and nodded. “Of course, how could I ever forget? Well, I can’t think of a nicer bachelor to own it.”

  “Not for long!” Teseo winked. “Anyway, I like how generous my Uncle Sam is, and how appreciative he is of my many talents. Who knows? Perhaps someday I’ll come to San Diego, and we’ll have some fun.”

  Fredo watched as the handsome captain shouted after and chased his new cargo to the gangway. Tourists watched, leaning over balconies, some with umbrella drinks in their hands, the sounds of an on-deck Reggae band playing loudly behind them. Tourists, oblivious to what had just been loaded on board, waved, and the men of Kyle’s SEAL Team 3 waved back.

  Standing next to Cooper, Fredo heard him say, “Now that’s not something you see every day, do you?” But the men kept waving and smiling.

  They loaded up, said their farewell to the security guard, and headed back to the hotel.

  “Holy Mother of God,” Fredo quipped when they were halfway back. “I get the shower first.”

  “I’ll start the laundry,” said Coop, without an ounce of emotion in his voice. Kyle confirmed the injured Lyman had his rendezvous with the Naval vessel and informed Ms. Nouri that the Secretary of State would be steaming across the Atlantic for the next seven days, somewhere between the Canaries and Brazil.

  Nope, no one would ever believe the day he’d had. No one. They were legends. The stuff of stories to be told for generations.

  Chapter 22

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  MIA DIDN’T ANSWER her phone that evening. The Team had been given orders to stay sheltered in place at the hotel complex. They took turns watching the activity on top of the hill, the sirens and the police vehicles that populated the crime scene. No doubt, Cabrera was a very busy man.

  Teseo’s ship had left port, and since they weren’t notified there’d been any difficulty, everyone assumed the Secretary would be chilling in the metal bin with two of his security detail until a safe rendezvous could be arranged with another Naval vessel. Kyle speculated it would have to be in international waters. He’d been in contact with Teseo by satellite phone.

  “How they working that?” Cooper asked.

  “Teseo said there would be a medical emergency on board, requiring the offloading of a family to the Naval vessel. It’s being arranged now.”

  Armando looked out over the blue waters below. “You know, Kyle, I’m not thinking this is a terrorist group. I’m just thinking this is a bunch of thugs who botched a ransom.”

  “That’s what Nouri thinks too,” answered Kyle. “They were possibly related to some gangs here on the island who profit on both ends of the skirmish. They deal in guns, prostitution, human trafficking, anything really. Perhaps that’s what started the jurisdictional feud between all the elements with the police forces. Who knows? But I agree, it just feels like criminals to me.”

  “I’d have a hard time thinking his Stanford friend would do that to him. The boys stayed in each other’s houses. Their fathers were friends. I think someone found out about that and decided to try to profit from it. Just my take,” said T.J. “We’ve seen those camps. They get in, they get out. They don’t wait. That’s what they’re doing when they’re waiting for a payment of some kind, don’t you think Kyle?”

  “I agree, T.J.”

  Coop had a question. “How did you know about Teseo?”

  “It was a random email to Christy. He was thinking of coming to the States at Christmas. She had no idea exactly where we were headed, but she did know he’d try to contact me when he got to land, which was Gran Canaria. I didn’t let on that’s where we actually were. So I called him.”

  “Someone want to explain who Teseo is?” asked one of the newbie SEALs.

  Fredo began. “Teseo was a junior officer on the ship nine of us took. Kyle, Coop, Armani, and Marc—a bunch of us and our ladies took this cruise from Italy t
o Brazil. We had Sanouk with us too, which reminds me—”

  Kyle interrupted him, “There was this big deployment coming up, and we just wanted a little relaxation.”

  Coop and Kyle looked at each other and shook their heads, swearing.

  Armando added, “Kid, this is a long story and you think this was crazy, what we did today? That was one helluva vacation, I can tell you!”

  “We picked up some terrorists off the coast of Africa—actually, we think they came from our stop in Morocco,” said Fredo. “But, hold on, Kyle. I just forgot about something—”

  “Fuckin’ snakes, too,” added Coop. “There were cobras all over the engine room. I hate snakes.”

  Little details of the cruise were thrown in. Fredo could see the newbies were having some serious bouts of envy as various members of Kyle’s team talked about the vacation that turned into a mission to save three thousand tourists and an Italian cruise ship.

  “What happened to the ship?” the froglet asked.

  “Oh, they blew it up, well part of it, anyway, man,” answered Armando. “Had to bring us another ship, and then they towed that one back to, what, Mississippi? That where they took it to be fixed?”

  “Yup,” answered Coop.

  “Wait. So who is Teseo?” another SEAL asked.

  “Teseo was named after the human torpedo, Teseo Tesei, who invented some of the rebreather stuff we use today, kid.” Coop bowed his head. “The guy was a real genius during World War II and was responsible for sinking a lot of British ships in the Med.”

  “Teseo’s parents named him after the famous Naval officer. And he worked for the Italian Special Forces. We were so lucky he was on board. Really helped us get those assholes,” said Armando.

  “Holy cow. So you guys really see some duty.”

  Kyle inhaled, stuck his chest out, and said, “Yup. We get to do more than I think anyone else on the Teams. We got a little angel or a bright star following up overhead,” he said as he pointed to the sky.

  “We got some stories, kiddos,” said Coop. “You will too. Trust me.”

  Fredo excused himself to try another call with Mia and there still was no answer. When he got back to the group, Kyle was getting instructions over his phone. He returned with a big smile on his face.

  “Good news, ladies. We chill here for a day or so. Stay together, explore the village like tourists and the business men, our cover. But once Teseo’s ship is in international waters, we’re greenlighted to go home.”

  FREDO TRIED TO adopt the casual banter and resume his smack talk from earlier, but as the group made their way around the little shops and frequented some bars as the evening came on them, he became increasingly concerned that he could not reach his wife. He decided to finally tell Coop.

  “You talk to Libby?’

  “Yessir. She’s very excited and relieved we’re coming home so quick. How about you?”

  “Mia isn’t answering her phone. And she knows I check in with her every day when I can. That’s not right, Coop.”

  “You know, Fredo, I’m beginning to think you’ll just die an old woman. You worry about everything.”

  “Seriously, Coop. That’s not like her at all.

  Chapter 23

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  MALMOUD SULEIMANI WAS heavy of heart. He rode the bus down to the business district, past stores he’d not been inside and could never afford to shop. There was so much he didn’t understand about this country, about these people. They could be a kind and loving people. They could also be so cruel.

  But they are afraid. People, when they are afraid, react with meanness and hatred. He’d seen evidence in his own country. It had been the reason, when given the opportunity, to leave and perhaps find a place to spread the peace and love he felt in his heart. His way of life, his whole religion was completely misunderstood.

  It would have been easier for him if he’d not ever confronted Sayid or knew what he was perhaps planning. The visit from the powerful Khan was not a good sign. The man was Wanted, and the authorities were looking for him in several states, not because he had done things against the law, but because he had inspired others to do so.

  How he wished the burden could be taken from him, he thought as he watched people walking the Strand, eating ice cream and jogging with their dogs. It didn’t take much for him to bring to mind the horrors he’d seen in parts of the Middle East. Even his pilgrimage had shown him a side of his religion that disturbed him.

  He thought of himself as a quiet zealot. He read about being willing to die for one’s beliefs, and indeed he was. But it was different than what Khan and now Sayid imagined. What if, instead of the bright and happy neighborhood he traveled, the buildings were bombed out? The children were screaming from loss of limbs or holding a dead parent? Soldiers roaming the streets indiscriminately shooting those whose appearance they did not like? The US population complained of this happening in their own cities, but what they’d seen was so small compared to what he’d seen. Lawlessness and fear drove those in charge to inflict desperate acts of violence on their own peoples!

  It was insanity. And it was coming here. Creeping up on a careless or naïve peoples. They thought they could control it. They were so wrong. It would take a partnership of those willing to help to find and eradicate those fomenting the hatred and violence.

  Sayid was playing in his own video game, Malmoud thought. No longer a gangly student, walking to class past green lawns and gardens of great beauty and enjoying the life of sunshine and privilege, but donning the fatigues of battle, causing death and destruction. He was following a hopelessly flawed and sick mindset.

  So as he stepped off the bus, his sandals hitting the warm sidewalk, aware how everyone on the bus had stared at him with caution and hatred, he was going to do his patriotic duty. He didn’t look like a patriot. But when he had raised his hand and joined the brotherhood of the diverse peoples of the United States, he’d also vowed to protect her in all her imperfections. Malmoud was used to being stared at. Used to being spit at. Used to women walking around him on the streets, or mothers hugging their children. He was an imposition in every grocery store line he stood in, the person who didn’t have a right to be waited upon.

  And yet, he was going to support them and their way of life. It was his word as a man and as a man of faith. It was who he was. Little did they suspect that a man like him would be the real wall, the real fence between their sunny way of life and the chaos that would descend upon them if he didn’t act.

  But his heart was heavy that many of his fellow-worshipers would never understand.

  The bus took off in a blast of dust. He didn’t have to turn around to find faces plastered in the windows watching where he was going. He could feel their eyes.

  The steps to the police department were well swept. Vines covered the outside of the two-story stucco building built to copy a Spanish villa house. The pink bougainvillea vines with their hot purple blossoms were still covering the greenery, their papery leaves fluttering around like hot pink confetti from a wedding. Birds chirped from nests allowed to live amongst the vines and under the eaves of the building. Traffic buzzed around behind him, and he heard a jet overhead.

  Inside the cool, dark foyer, he approached glass windows reminiscent of an old-time movie theater he’d seen in a picture book. The panes were thick, and two uniformed women were sitting side by side, awaiting visitors like ticket takers. Maybe he was getting his ticket to an action film he felt he’d want to walk out of halfway through. Maybe he wouldn’t survive the full length feature. The larger woman with beautiful full cheeks and bright red lipstick smiled, lipstick on her large upper incisors.

  “May I help you?”

  “I am here to report a crime.”

  “Okay.” She reached under the counter and slid a clipboard with a form on it under the bottom of the glass in the one inch space there. “You need to fill this incident report out, and then I’ll summon a clerk to come speak to you about it. If you
like, you can leave your telephone number so you don’t have to wait.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “We are very busy at the moment. If you waited, it could be an hour.”

  An hour? What amount of time was worth the cost of a human life or lives? Was that acceptable? Was there anything else more important right now that he could not wait an hour to be heard?

  “I would like some help, please. This isn’t a crime that has occurred yet. But I do believe it will be very soon. But not in an hour.”

  “So this hasn’t happened yet?”

  “No.”

  She began to pull the clipboard back inside her part of the cubicle, but Malmoud stopped her by putting his hand on it.

  She sat up and tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “What exactly are you wanting to report then? I’m confused.”

  Indeed. Malmoud was confused as well.

  “I need to talk to someone who has worked with a terrorism task force of some kind. Someone who knows about such cases. I believe I have uncovered something that may be useful.”

  Everyone within earshot of the little hole in the glass window stopped and turned to face him. He decided he’d said the right thing.

  He noticed a buzzing up on the ceiling to his right as a camera moved position, no doubt to examine if he was carrying something that could be dangerous or perhaps carrying a weapon. He smiled at the camera lens. It wasn’t a big smile. Just enough not to look menacing.

  The woman behind the counter backed away as did the woman next to her. She held her finger up and quickly departed stage right, as they said in Hollywood.

  A woman and her young son entered the foyer behind him, walking up to the now empty window on his left. She eyed him carefully. Her child was crying and resisting her grip on his forearm. Malmoud decided the occupants inside the office might think he was a threat to the woman and child, so he bowed slightly, turned around and sat in one of the chairs in the waiting room, bringing the clipboard with him. In time, the other clerk appeared and the two women spoke in hushed tones.