Proximity: A Novel of the Navy's Elite Bomb Squad

by Stephen Phillips

  “Naturally, you two gentlemen are our best source of information because you are linked to all three incidents.”

  Elena tried not to wince at her faux pas.

  Be careful damnit! she thought to herself.

  “I need you to review the evidence compiled here, be ready to answer more questions, and hopefully provide more information for this investigation. The difference is that now we are well beyond trying to learn anything about the SANPAT bomb. Now we hope that you may actually help us to crack this terrorist ring.”

  Elena paused to gather her thoughts. She looked at the faces of the two EOD Techs before her and decided that she was still doing well.

  “Take the morning to review the reports. Write notes down on any thoughts that you have regarding their content, however insignificant it may seem to you. I’ll be back this afternoon to discuss with Special Agent Pucharelli from the office in Rome. Okay?”

  “We got it, ma’am,” replied Jazz.

  “Lieutenant, please, call me ‘Elena.’” There, now flash the smile.

  “Okay, Elena. Please call me ‘Jazz,’ all of my friends do. We look forward to helping in any way we can.”

  Despite the fact that rush hour should have passed, there was traffic across the Woodrow Wilson Bridge.

  Thank God I don’t have to drive in this everyday, Elena thought. She could see stress in the shoulders of the man in the driver’s seat and was glad that she was not the one driving in it now. She leaned back and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate and rest at the same time.

  Her mind wandered back to Jazz. She liked it that she would now be able to call him by his nickname. She pictured the two of them in the back of a limousine returning from a night at the opera.

  Oh, Jazz, that was a great evening, thank you.

  She imagined Jazz leaning over to kiss her, stoking her breast through her dress as their lips touched.

  Then her phone rang.

  Damnit, she thought. Don’t forget he’s your suspect!

  Elena extracted her phone from he briefcase, “Cruz.”

  “You’re going to screw it up aren’t you?”

  “Good morning, Cam.”

  “Explain to me again how you are going to get this guy. He is a suspect, any decent lawyer will rip you apart on Mirandizing him alone.”

  “You know, I have thought some more on that one, Cameron. I’m not going to get him within our justice system. I’m going to get him in his.”

  “I don’t follow you.”

  “UCMJ, the Uniform Code of Military Justice. We’ll start with treason.”

  “Oh?”

  “We are still conducting an investigation and are not yet ready to charge anyone. If we find something we’ll say that I’m not questioning a suspect, I’m conducting a sting. The fact that I am acting as an FBI agent is immaterial.”

  “Oh, Elena, I do like it. You may be in my good graces after all.”

  “I’ll call ya later, Cam.”

  At FBI headquarters in Washington, DC Special Agents Cruz and Pucharelli were having a working lunch in the cafeteria. Pooch read over a copy of the case file given to Jazz and Ball. What the two EOD Techs did not realize is that the file contained subtle misinformation throughout. They hoped that Jazz would make a statement outside the investigation or contrary to the case file that was in fact true. Then they would know that he was on the inside of the IED factory connection.

  “Elena, this is brilliant, really.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So if this guy is guilty... if he is connected, how do we think this whole thing proceeded?”

  Elena reached into her bag and pulled out a wallet-sized notebook. She flipped the pages, finally stopping and reading a moment.

  “Okay, here it goes. First, Jascinski for some reason is a member of a domestic terrorist organization. Part of his role in this organization is to attend a military school where he can learn advanced demolition and subsequently move into a position where he can obtain, to wit, steal military explosives. Likewise he can provide training to his fellow members. Jascinski gets into EOD school, after three tries mind you. The coup de gras is that he will be able to get close to someone while on a Secret Service op.”

  Pucharelli was nodding his head. “I’m with you, go on.”

  “Okay, Jascinski gets in with the local bad guys in Texas. I don’t think this is a small organization; it is nationwide. He could have been posted anywhere, he merely got in with the local chapter.”

  “Right.”

  “So they get found out by the dumb luck of some confused older woman who thinks she still owns the house. Sometime en route to the scene, Jascinski is called by his cronies.

  “‘Fuck,’ they say, ‘We’ve been found out. What can we do?’ These guys are pretty well organized, so they mobilize.”

  “When do you think the call was made?”

  “I think before...”

  “‘Cause the second guy... Ball... is not involved.”

  “Right. He has been around Navy EOD for a while. Nothing to date points to him being involved in anything like this. Also, he was not there for SECSTATE.”

  “I thought I remember the name ‘Ball’ from that op. Wasn’t he there?”

  “He was on the job, but at a different location. Jascinski was posted at the hotel with a guy named Ashland.”

  “That’s right, I remember now. So what about Ashland?”

  “Like Ball, good record. He came to Texas from Detachment Norfolk. And he was very new to Ingleside when the incident happened.”

  “Okay, continue.”

  “So he either places the device for SECSTATE’s visit, or better yet, ensures that it is not located. It could be as simple as searching the location of the device and declaring it safe. Or, as the OIC he probably has influence on how the search proceeds. He probably even has the ability to decide that the team will not search an area.”

  “That is correct. They chose to not search the conference hall.”

  “See?”

  “Got it.”

  “Now our two incidents are not merely linked, they are part of the same campaign. In fact they are perpetrated by at least the same group and possibly the same man.”

  “So now we get to Albania.”

  “Albania, correct. I do believe that Jascinski’s presence there is a coincidence. Obviously he had no part in Kosovo and the Inchon’s subsequent involvement. I also believe however that there is some connection between Albania and Jascinski’s group. Maybe their training is provided by the same source. While he is there, he contacts or is contacted by this group. They ask for his assistance.

  “‘Go see what they have on us. Is the stuff still there? What are the defenses like?’

  “Jascinski provides them with the intel. How long had we been in those magazines?”

  “Couple of weeks I think.”

  “And how long after our friend was in there did they get hit?”

  “Days... damn, I am starting to believe this more and more.”

  “Good. So am I,” Elena glanced at her watch. “Well, it is that time. Let’s take a drive back over the Potomac.”

  The two agents sat in the back of the same car that drove Cruz that morning. The traffic was no better at one than it was at ten.

  “We need to pursue other avenues on this guy,” said Pucharelli.

  “I’ve already covered it. We have looked at phone records, emails and the like. I’ve started watching the house, but we have not come up with anything yet.”

  “He’s been gone though.”

  “Exactly, the surveillance will be stepped up when Jascinski returns.”

  “Still, I recommend that you go back and look again at records during the time surrounding each incident. We need to begin with the night of the incident in San Patricio County, the days surrounding the incident in Rome, and the days around the magazine hit.”

  “That is probably a good recommendation. I can have my guy, Kilkenney, and hi
s men look into it again. I think it may have been an unknown cell phone contact or it was a face to face meeting which may be impossible to trace.”

  “When was he absent from the command? Oh, damn.”

  “What?”

  “Elena, he had all the time in the world to meet with someone in Albania. There are hundreds of cats and dogs there. It really was madness. Jascinski would have hours to talk with a foreigner there in plain sight and it would not have drawn any attention.”

  “Interesting. Well, we cannot do anything about that right now. We’ll go with your recommendation and start again on emails and phone records.”

  Jazz noticed in the material Elena gave him that the FBI had in fact started calling the device the “SANPAT bomb.” What the feds gave them was somewhat confusing. Jazz understood that they were the only living link to all three episodes, but he struggled to imagine exactly how he and T-Ball could provide insight based on the information provided. Much of the case file had nothing to do with the explosives.

  Finally, he closed his eyes and thought of West, Martin, De Luca, and Koss. Jazz decided to look at the case not as an EOD Tech, but as an investigator.

  He opened his eyes and started with the evidence gathered at the residence in San Patricio. First there was a list of all the explosive and electronic components. Then they had miscellaneous damning material that in the absence of the explosives would seem less incriminating. There were maps of several cities in the Southwest; detailed maps of the downtown areas that tourists use when walking. There were also satellite photos and base maps of the major installations in the state of Texas, including Ingleside.

  Who are these guys going after? he wondered.

  Next he looked at the evidence from the Technology Symposium hosted by De Luca and his company Texas Silicon and Software. The photos of De Luca, the media crew, and Fiona Koss brought back his feelings of guilt. He wondered if this was a similar feeling doctors had when they lost a patient.

  The conclusion of the report was that an anti-American group known as “Anarchy” did the job. Jazz had heard of this group. They had a more peaceful arm that conducted protests outside the gates in Naples and Sigonella.

  So how are these two related?

  It hit him at once.

  “Holy Shit!”

  “What?” said T-Ball.

  “These guys aren’t anti-government, they’re anti-technology!”

  “Huh?”

  THIRTY-NINE

  Insight

  Just then the door opened and Special Agents Cruz and Pucharelli stepped in.

  Jazz called out as they entered, “Elena! I got an idea!”

  The two g-men looked at each other quizzically. They could sense genuine discovery in Jazz’s voice.

  “What?”

  Jazz recognized Pucharelli from Rome.

  “Hi, Agent Pucharelli. How are you?”

  “Fine, thanks, Lieutenant.”

  “Listen, did Anarchy claim responsibility for the attack on SECSTATE?”

  “No they didn’t,” said Pucharelli. “But terrorist groups don’t always...”

  “Does Anarchy usually claim responsibility?”

  “Well, yes but...”

  “Then I would suggest to you that Fiona Koss was not your target, De Luca was.”

  “What?” Elena said incredulously.

  “These guys are not anti-government, they’re anti-technology. You don’t have a McVeigh on your hands, you’ve got a Kaczynski.”

  “Slow down, We needed some insight, not an Encyclopedia Brown secret decoder ring solution,” Elena said acidly.

  Pucharelli put a hand on Elena’s shoulder. “Hold on, Elena, let’s hear what the man has to say.”

  “Don’t you guys see it? This is how the cases are linked. The guys in Texas are going after De Luca and Texas Silicon and Software. Same thing with the group in Italy. They may be linked closely, or loosely... but he was the target.”

  “Then explain all the maps and satellite photos of government installations.”

  “I’d say to you, ‘Explain all the maps of the major cities in the Southwest.’ To explain maps of all the military installations is easy, that is where the explosives came from, whether bought or stolen. I’ll wager that every map in San Patricio was of a city that had a tech conference or symposium that De Luca attended.”

  Now Elena was turning red.

  “I’m sure. The guy has been in every city with a population over 100,000 in the U.S. selling his product,” she said with sarcasm and disdain.

  Jazz turned toward Pucharelli, ignoring Elena’s rebuke.

  “Well, that is your start. I know it will be a heady task, but you should identify who attended all of the conferences in those cities. That will begin to narrow it down. My guess is that they are or were conducting reconnaissance on how this guy moves, what his modus operandi is. Then they plan or take the right opportunity and bang... big pink mist.”

  Now Elena stepped in front of Pucharelli. She could tell that Jazz was winning her fellow agent over quickly. It made her angry, yet attracted to him at the same time. She leaned over and placed her hands on the table, shooting an angry look at Jazz.

  “Okay wise guy, why not just mail a bomb to this guy, why not put one at his house or on his car?”

  “Simple. These folks do not want to miss. They had to get him the first time. And they know that De Luca probably does not open his own mail, business or otherwise. Similarly, he probably has security on his house and vehicles. No, they had to get him in public... remember they have already proved to be very sophisticated and calculating.”

  Elena was furious. She stood tall again and pointed an accusing finger at Jazz.

  “You’re a bastard you know that? I’ve been working on this for months now! Months!”

  “Elena!” Pucharelli yelled. “Sit down. Calm down.” He waited until his counterpart had in fact sat down.

  Though she was no longer crimson, Elena gave Pucharelli a look that said, “Idiot! He is trying to throw us off the trail!”

  He answered the look.

  “Elena, the fact is that the lieutenant here has a good point. Sometimes it takes someone from the outside to see all the pieces in a different way.”

  Now Jazz stood. He spoke with a softer tone.

  “Agent Cruz,... Elena,... I’m just trying to help. Believe me my excitement in seeing an answer to this case has nothing to do with a desire to embarrass you or the FBI. And I don’t fancy myself as an ‘Encyclopedia Brown,’ as you put it.

  “The fact is ma’am, that I have been an EOD Technician for less than a year. In that time I have indirectly or directly been involved in the deaths of four people and the maiming of two more. Quite simply, I feel responsible for those people.

  “My exuberance revolves around bringing those responsible to justice. I’ll sleep better when that happens.”

  He could see Elena getting red again. Standing next to her, Pucharelli put a hand out toward Elena, motioning her to remain silent.

  Jazz realized that he was cutting deep, but he continued anyway.

  “I suggest that you get past who is going to get the credit or the blame in this investigation and find the answer. I am not an agent, I may be completely wrong. But the fact that your colleague is willing to listen to me indicates that there is at least one possibility that you have not considered.

  “My shipmate and I are going to my parents’ home in Annapolis now. We have seen and done a lot of shit in the past six months particularly and we need a break. You guys decide if you need or want our help, and give us a call.”

  Jazz looked to T-Ball who sat dumbfounded during the whole exchange.

  “T-Ball, you feel like crabcakes?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I know a good place to get cakes and malteds.”

  “I’m there.”

  The agents said nothing as the two sailors walked out.

  Pucharelli waited a few seconds and followed them ou
t. He watched as Jazz and T-Ball got into their car and drove away.

  When he returned, Elena was still sitting quietly in the same seat.

  “I don’t think he’s our man.”

  “Hmmph.”

  “Take it easy, Elena. We can keep all of this in this room.”

  “I don’t know how I’m gonna get outta this one, the surveillance I mean.”

  “Well at least you can do it on your terms. Suggest that it end, new evidence reveals that he is no longer a suspect. You had to look right? I’ll back you up on that. I was with you on this one not two hours ago.”

  “How did this happen?”

  “I’ll tell ya what, that guy should be an agent.”

  “I wish people would stop saying that.”

  “Elena, really, take it easy.”

  “No, don’t you get it? I feel the same way he does. I feel like Koss and De Luca are on me. If I had done a better job...”

  “You’re wrong... dead wrong, Elena, so don’t go there. It is just time to regroup.”

  Elena stared into space, angry with herself. She wondered if she had allowed Jazz to distract her on this case for all of the wrong reasons.

  Jazz was nervous entering the house with T-Ball. He was concerned that the Admiral would view their familiar relationship as fraternization. He spoke to his mother about it on the phone from his hotel room before they left Waldorf.

  “Mom, just make sure he understands.”

  “I will dear. The Admiral really has grown to understand this EOD thing, you know.”

  “I know Mom, but there is still part of him that is old school.”

  “James, your father and I are not so cavalier, in fact quite the opposite. When the Admiral was a lieutenant...”

  “Mom, I am just saying that you need to prep him or he’ll make an ass of himself.”

  “James J. Jascinski Junior, that is enough!”

  “Promise me, Eleanor.”

  There was a pause at the other end of the line.

  “I promise.”

  Eleanor greeted the men at the door.

  “James, it is so good to have you home,” she said hugging him.

  “I’ve missed you, Mom.”