Sins of the Fatherland (Scott Jarvis Investigations Book 6)

by Scott Cook

  “Not so as we can tell,” McClay said, “I doubt anybody even noticed you leaving the ship, but one can’t be too careful, can one?”

  I scoffed, “yeah, ain’t it the truth. You can’t trust anybody, either. Nobody seems to be what they say they are.”

  “I am,” Conklin said.

  “You’re an aerospace engineer,” I pointed out, “Or were.”

  Conklin sighed, “I was. I really was. After you put Ravetti away, though… I had to do something with my life. So I went back to the old days. Might as well use my Marine Corps training for something. It’s like I said last year, I’m a freelance operator now.”

  “A real international man of mystery, huh?” I asked sardonically.

  “You could say that,” Conklin said, “You should ask your buddy Clay about me sometime.”

  More surprises, “You know Clay?”

  “We were in the same unit back in the day,” Conklin said, “He was my squad’s noncom. Corporal D we used to call him. Couple years older than me but we got on like two peas in a pod.”

  “I’ll be god-damned…” I muttered.

  Ariel put a hand on my arm, “Are you all right?”

  I scoffed and waved a hand dismissively, “Oh, I’m just swell, darlin’. This shit happens every day. When do the fuckin’ aliens show up?”

  “He’s fine,” Conklin said with a chuckle, “when he stops wise cracking, that’s when you worry.”

  “It’s just a lot to absorb all at once,” I said, rubbing my temples, “Although things make a bit of sense now, I suppose. So do you guys know what’s actually going on here? Who tried to kill Hank Lambert and who… who murdered my pup?”

  My voice got tight at these last few words. The image of my beautiful Dobey lying lifeless in my side yard was still a raw and open wound. I had to swallow hard to try and get rid of the lump in my throat.

  Ariel put her arms around me, “I’m so sorry…”

  “No,” McClay said tightly, “Bloody hell… that sucks… who’d kill a dog… but I can tell you, Scott… it wasn’t my guys. On either count.”

  “It’s true,” Conklin said, “Although Al-Rajid may or may not be after that cargo of germs, he hasn’t made any threatening moves on anybody. Brody is just what he appears to be. An arrogant prick, but just a guy who gets off on salvaging wrecks.”

  “So there’s somebody else out there,” I said, “Somebody who wants to make sure that the Lamberts don’t find that boat at least. Yet they don’t seem to mind if Brody does?”

  “It’s a puzzler, m’lad,” McClay said as he pulled into a small community and beneath a four story building.

  “This has certainly been a day of surprises,” I said wearily as we got out, “Shocks might be more like it. Could it be Foster?”

  “He’s clean as far as we know,” Conklin said, leading the way to an elevator, “And Scott… we may have one more surprise for you tonight.”

  “Christ on a saltine,” I breathed, “I don’t know if my ticker can handle any more of this shit.”

  Ariel leaned against me and gave me a squeeze. She stood on her tip toes and whispered into my ear, “I can attest to the strength of your heart.”

  We rode up to the top floor in silence. I liked the attention that Ariel was giving me, naturally. Yet was it all a put on? Was she simply trying to beguile me? Seduce me and get me on their side?

  We stopped in front of the last unit at the end of a corridor. As Conklin dug out a key, Ariel pulled me a few paces away from the other men, “Scott… I know what you’re thinking. But please believe me, I’m not acting toward you. I like you and admire you and do need your help. And my desire to make love to you earlier… and hopefully later… is genuine. I swear it on my mother’s name.”

  I gazed down at her for a long moment. Her large hazel eyes seemed to hold no deception. My instincts told me she was telling the truth. I smiled and gave her a quick kiss, “It’d better be.”

  She chuckled and we all entered the condo.

  It was a pre-furnished rental. A two bedroom affair decorated tastefully yet affordably. A small kitchen and dining nook opened onto a large great room with double sliding glass doors to a balcony that offered a spectacular ocean view. To either side of the living room were two bedrooms suites, each with their own bathroom.

  “Like a drink?” McClay asked, sauntering over to a small wet bar positioned in the corner near the kitchen counter.

  “And maybe he’d like to take it with a cigar on the balcony,” Another man’s voice said from the archway to the southern bedroom.

  I spun and gaped. A tall man dressed in slacks and a burgundy golf shirt stepped out into the living area. He was in his early fifties and had a handsome face topped with a head of black hair shot through sparingly with gray.

  “Gregorio?” I asked dumbly, as if I didn’t know.

  Gregorio Santino stepped up and wrapped me in a hug, “It’s good to see you again, Scott! Been too long since we’ve seen each other or chatted.”

  “Make it a double, Joe,” I said dazedly. I turned back to Santino, “You’re mixed up in all of this, too?”

  “In a peripheral way,” Santino said in his rich voice with just a hint of New York in it, “A bit of a tale there. I was sorry to hear about Lisa. Angela and I grew rather fond of her.”

  I cast a quick glance at Ariel, who was at the bar with Joe mixing drinks. I sighed and said, “Yes… me too. How are things with you? How’s the lovely Angela?”

  “As lovely as ever,” Santino said with a smile, “and she sends her love to you as well.”

  “Shall we repair to the balcony?” Ariel asked as she came over and handed both Santino and I a drink, “I owe Scott a cigar. He never got to finish the last one I gave him.”

  Santino cocked an eyebrow at me and smiled knowingly, “Young Jarvis certainly knows how to find the most beautiful ladies.”

  Conklin chuffed and McClay laughed. Ariel only grinned.

  I scoffed, “You should see his wife! Damn near made me choke on my own tongue the first time I saw her. Sure, let’s go out and have a gorgeous smoke and then the four of you can explain exactly what in the name of the sweet living Christ is going on here.”

  The patio featured several wicker couches and chairs. I sat on a love seat with Ariel next to me. Conklin and McClay shared the couch and Santino the lone chair. On the glass topped wicker coffee table sat a box of cigars along with cutter and lighter. Everyone took a smoke, even Ariel. As before, she cut and lit mine for me, brushing a hand across my face in the process.

  “You’re probably all wondering why I’ve asked you here tonight,” I began in my flawless Sherlock Holmes.

  A chuckle went around the large balcony. Santino puffed on his stogy and stared out at the night blackened sea below us, “The truth is, Scott, that I’m probably the only one who’s got something useful to share.”

  “Is the… is your organization interested in… in what’s going on over here?” I asked carefully. I wasn’t sure who knew what and what not to say.

  “Gregorio has been apprised,” Ariel said, “he knows what we know.”

  “My interest is indirect,” Santino said, “Although certainly preventing any terrorist organization from getting their hands on this sunken cargo of streptococcus is certainly a worthy goal.”

  “Then what?” I asked, “how in the hell do you fit into this?”

  “Because I happen to know who tried to kill Henry Lambert,” Santino said. Then more sadly, “And your pooch.”

  “Mafia hit men?” I asked, feeling heat rise into my face and a twinge of anger.

  “Not exactly,” Santino said, “But related. Through the extensive grapevine of my organization, I have learned that a request was placed for a group of four men. I have it on good authority that these men were hired, although they aren’t related to… to what we do.”

  “Friends of the friends of the friends?” I asked.

  “Something like that,” Santino sa
id, “Professionals out of St. Louis as it turns out.”

  At the name of that particular city, I flinched a little. Santino regarded me kindly for a moment, “No connection, Scott. Just coincidence.”

  Of course it was. Just hearing the name of the city to which Lisa had moved only reminded me of her.

  “Do you know their names?” I asked coldly, “I’d like to… speak with them.”

  “I can do better than that,” Santino said, tapping his ash into a large stone ash tray on the table, “I can give you their exact location. They’re still in Orlando, being held in reserve, you might say.”

  I leaned forward to ash my own smoke and grinned, “Then let’s mosey on over to O-town and have a nice friendly chat with these dirty, stinkin’, rotten, scum-suckin’ bastards.”

  Chapter 22

  “You want to go now?” Ariel asked, “It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning.”

  Santino chuckled as he puffed on his stogy, “You haven’t known young Jarvis for long, Miss Mizrahi. Let’s just say he’s… not one to wait when there may be action afoot.”

  “Yeah… I like doin’ stuff n’junk,” I offered.

  “Wouldn’t it be just as well to wait until morning?” Ariel pressed, “Get

  Some sleep and be fresh?”

  Conklin smiled at her and then eyed me, “I think Scott prefers to attack sooner rather than later so as to make sure we can get these guys.”

  “Exactly,” I said, “If they’re holed up in some hotel room now, then the odds are they’ll be there at least until morning. However, who knows what the daylight may bring? I’ve got a lead, a course of action and to use one of the mottos of the Napoleonic era Royal Navy… we must lose not a minute.”

  “Here, here,” McClay enthused.

  “I agree,” Conklin put in.

  “As do I,” Santino said, “This is why I came here, after all.”

  Ariel frowned but she nodded in understanding. She sighed, “I can’t argue that. It’s just not the way I foresaw this night going.”

  I smiled broadly as did the other men, “Well… you’re the one who got me here, after all.”

  She smiled, “To talk. I didn’t see this coming.”

  I sighed, “Yeah… I like your idea better. At any rate, here we are. Where are they, Gregorio?”

  The Don pulled a slip of paper from the inside pocket of his robe, “A place in Orlando near Sea World, I believe. It’s called… Hilton Grand Vacations. I have the address.”

  “And we don’t know who these guys are?” I asked.

  “I think I can find out,” Santino said, “I’ll attempt to do so while we’re en route.”

  “We?” I asked.

  “Yes, we,” Santino said matter of factly, “I’m going with you.”

  “This is bound to be dangerous,” I countered, “My plan is to break into their room and capture them at gun point… and interrogate them.”

  Santino levelled a steady gaze at me, “You think I’m too old for such things now?”

  Santino was about six feet tall and athletic. He had broad shoulders and a lean middle and had black hair only sparingly shot through with gray. He had a handsome face whose youthfulness belied his fifty-three years. He could easily pass for a man five or even ten years younger.

  “It’s not that,” I said, holding up a hand, “It’s just that this is a soldier’s job. Not for the boss.”

  Santino scoffed, “Scott, remember what I am and how I got here. I’m no stranger to action. Like Charles here, I’m a former Marine. Enlisted right out of high school just like my papa.”

  “Really?” I asked in surprise, “He was in the Navy, though, right?”

  Santino smiled wanly, “At first, he enlisted in the Corps after high school. Served his term and went to college. It’s only when the war broke out that he entered the Navy as something of a re-tread. He felt that he could serve more effectively as a Navy pilot and see more action. A lot of guys did that at the time, since it was the Navy who was primarily attacked at Pearl Harbor. Many men wanted to jump right into action and felt that the Navy offered the best chance.”

  “I’ll be damned,” I said, shaking my head in wonder, “The longer I know you, the more layers I discover.”

  “Oh, I’m a riddle wrapped in a mystery,” Santino said in a tone that sounded familiar, “And smothered in a rich gravy of intrigue.”

  I crinkled my brow, “why does that sound familiar…?”

  He grinned, “A friend of mine wrote that. So besides being no stranger to soldiering… I brought this news to you and wouldn’t feel right sitting back at the ranch while you went out to face the bushwhackers.”

  I shrugged, “Okay, you’re a big boy I guess.”

  “We’re coming too,” McClay added. Ariel nodded.

  “Negative,” I said in a no-nonsense tone, “It’s bad enough you two are even here so long. If you’re to keep your covers intact, you should get back aboard ship ASAP.”

  “And you?” Ariel asked, “What happens when Jibreel or Brody or even Ms. Lambert inquire as to why you’ve vanished?”

  “Tell them the truth,” I said, “Tell them I got a lead on the men who attacked Henry Lambert this morning and who… who killed my dog. I went after them.”

  That silenced the conversation for a minute or so. I ashed my cigar and turned to Conklin, “Can I assume you’ve got enough tools for the job?”

  “I do. Plenty of weapons and ammo.”

  “All right then,” I said, stubbing out my smoke, “Let’s spread more canvas. Royals and stuns’ls.”

  Ariel wrapped her arms around me while Santino was dressing, “I had such plans for tonight.”

  I kissed her, “If they’re anything like earlier, then I’m very sorry they won’t come to pass.”

  “That was just a taste,” She said and probed my mouth gently but passionately, “We’ve only just begun. Please be careful. And thank you for trusting me.”

  The ride from Sarasota to Orlando was thankfully swift. Conklin had in his possession some very effective and I figured non-commercial radar detection gear. As a result of this and the nearly non-existent traffic, we could maintain a speed of nearly one-hundred on I-75 and I-4.

  If we were successful and captured all the men alive, we’d grow to a group of seven. I suggested that we first go downtown so I could retrieve my vehicle. Sharon had parked it in the lot near my office and there was a magnetic key holder hidden underneath.

  Santino and I got into my Jeep and headed out of downtown and back for the attractions area. We were quiet for several minutes until my curiosity got the better of me.

  “I was shocked to find you hanging out with Conklin,” I said.

  “As I was at first,” Santino replied, “But when he got in touch with me not long ago and explained what was going on, I thought it was in my best interest to go along with him. He’s an interesting character for sure.”

  “Yes…” I said, “And far more to him than I thought when I first heard his name. Never thought of him as a spook, for lack of a better term.”

  “We do owe him our lives,” Santino said.

  “True enough,” I said, “and I do more than once. It’s not that I don’t trust him… exactly… it’s just that he apparently marches to the beat of a different drummer now.”

  “And does what’s in his… or his clients’? His client’s’ best interests,” Santino said, “Another reason I’m here.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a grin.

  The Hilton Grand Vacations was one of those sprawling time share resorts that also rented their units as hotel rooms. It was located less than half a mile from the main entrance to Sea World just off Central Florida Parkway. The entrances to the resort were on a side street called Arezzo Way. This was fortunate because at just after three in the morning, nobody was driving in or out of the resort.

  I turned onto Arezzo and drove down about a quarter of a mile. Conklin’s black sedan was parked behind a large pic
kup truck. I thought that was odd and wondered if we had a problem. Especially when I saw the shadowy figure of a lean, medium-height man standing near the rear bumper of the F-150 or whatever the truck was.

  It wasn’t until I parked and got out that I saw who the man was. It was none other than my friend Clay Delaney.

  “What the Christ…?” I asked in confusion, “Clay?”

  “Good morning, Machu Picchu!” clay said in his usual ebullient way.

  “Good morning?” I asked, feeling irritated, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Charles called me,” Clay said, “Said you needed help, so here I am.”

  I glared at Charles.

  “While you and Ariel were making out,” Conklin said wryly, “I got ahold of Clay and told him what was going on. Trust ole Corporal D, Scott. He’s good in a fight.”

  “Goddammit!” I exploded, although not loudly, “This isn’t a fucking game! We’re about to commit several illegal acts and possibly end up in a fire fight. This is a life and death situation, Charles. Not a damned boy scout outing!”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Clay asked but admirably without rancor.

  “It’s not that, Clay,” I said, sighing heavily, “It’s that you’ve got a wife and three kids, for Christ’s sake. You shouldn’t be risking your neck on something like this.”

  “Scott,” Clay said, coming over and putting a hand on my shoulder, “I’m all grown up. I make my own decisions. Now that I know what’s going on, can I stand by and do nothing?”

  “I get that,” I growled, glaring at Conklin, “But if Charles here had kept his mouth shut, you wouldn’t have had to make the decision, dammit!”

  Clay set his jaw, “It’s irrelevant now.”

  I fumed for a few long moments. I seriously considered throttling Conklin. It wasn’t that I doubted Clay’s abilities, it was that he had greater responsibilities. He had a son, two daughters and a wife to consider.

  “Scott… you’re just going to have to face up to the fact that you’re not the only one who can take a risk, or who’s willing to leap headlong into danger for a friend,” Conklin said sternly and then smiled disarmingly, “Besides, it can’t hurt to go in with a couple of Marines.”