“Very well, Grant, but just for now.”
“Thank you, sir. Oh, sir, I asked Joe to run a report on someone.”
“Wait one.” Torrinson handed the phone to Adler.
“Skipper?”
“Yeah, Joe. Did you find out anything on the two individuals?”
“Both reports came back clean, skipper, like you expected. Do you want the details?”
“Negative. Thanks, Joe.”
“Well, Grant, looks like your R&R has been interrupted.” Torrinson rocked back and forth in his chair.
“Looks that way, sir.”
“Tell me you’re operating at a hundred percent.”
Grant’s mind flashed back to his five weeks of recuperation in the hospital. “I am, sir. One hundred ten percent, sir.” Grant hastily changed the direction of the conversation. “I realize we don’t know a helluva lot, sir, but will you be talking with SECDEF and SECNAV about what we suspect?”
“As soon as this conversation’s over. They’ll most likely pass what little information we have to the president and Secretary of State Freedman.”
“Do you think they’ll get SIS involved, or maybe Interpol, sir?”
“At this point, hard to say.”
“Sorry I don’t have more to tell you, sir. To make it worse, right now everybody on this base has to be considered a suspect. That includes Brits and Americans. But I’m going to have to chance it and talk with one of the marines, sir, since they’re in charge of security for the weapons.”
“I agree,” Torrinson replied. “Do you know who?”
Grant looked at Henley’s note. “There’s a Gunnery Sergeant Baranski I’ll talk with first, sir.” Grant lowered his head, wondering exactly how many could be involved. “This is going to be one helluva an op, Admiral.”
“You’re right, Grant.”
“Sir, since we still don’t know if this has to do with just the passing of documents or… ”
“You actually think there could be a plan to use one of those nukes?”
“Have to consider all possibilities, sir.”
“I don’t know how soon there’ll be a meeting with the Joint Chiefs,” Torrinson said, “but in the meantime, I’ll discuss the possibility of putting one of our ships from the Med on alert.
“Mildenhall and Lakenheath are close if you need chopper support. I’ll see about contacting those base commanders.” He scribbled notes on his yellow legal pad.
“Thanks, sir.”
Torrinson swiveled back and forth in his leather chair. He looked at Adler, as he said to Grant, “Maybe you’d like some assistance.”
“That’s affirmative, sir! Do you have anyone in mind?” he asked with a smile in his voice.
Sending Adler to England was a given. “Maybe you’d better talk to Joe. Confirm what you need.”
“One more thing, sir. I’ve given the local police my address as the hotel, but might have to consider coming on base, especially with Joe bringing our gear. I’d rather there be questions on base than in the civilian community, sir.”
“Very well. Just keep me in the loop.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good luck, Grant.”
Fifteen minutes later Grant ended his call with Adler. He looked at the notepad. It was time to get his ass in gear.
Opening the office door, he looked for Henley in the outer office. Four petty officers, standing around the desk, looked in his direction, and gave him a cursory greeting. “Sir.”
“Where’s Commander Henley?” Grant asked, with his eyes going to each man.
“He’s outside with the chief, sir,” Marty Weaver answered, motioning with his head.
Grant started toward the door without responding, but didn’t take his eyes from the four men. He’d been involved in these type situations before. Somebody like him comes along and eyebrows start to raise. Questions and rumors run rampant. It happened on the carrier and sub when he was on the hunt for a Russian mole.
The conversation he and Henley had in the office got loud and out of control. Whether or not the men in the outer office heard what was said couldn’t be helped now. He regretted it had gotten to that point. But with a small, tight-knit command like this one, these men will undoubtedly be ready to take Henley’s side, unless something’s going on that he hasn’t been made privy to… yet. He didn’t think it would be a problem, as long as they stayed out of his way.
He opened the door and stepped outside, seeing Henley and Chief Becker standing near one of the tractors. Henley was puffing away on a cigarette, pacing in front of Becker.
“Jack!” Grant called.
Henley flicked the cigarette onto the asphalt, then he walked toward Grant. Becker followed, gave Grant a quick nod, then went inside the building.
“Listen, Jack,” Grant said, as he motioned toward his car and started walking in its direction. “I’m sorry what happened in your office.” Henley remained quiet. Grant backed up against the driver’s side door. He hung onto the notepad as he crossed his arms over his chest. “No matter how the hell you feel about these guys, we’ve got one fuckin’ situation here. I know you realize that.”
“Never had to face anything like this,” Henley said quietly. “Guess it’s nothing new to you.”
Grant lowered his head briefly before looking back at him. “Unfortunately, no. Had more than my share.” He held up the notepad. “Can you think of anybody else that may need to be on this list?”
Henley glanced overhead briefly, as if in thought, then responded, “I don’t know if you want to talk to the bartenders at Sailor’s. Derek hung out there a lot.”
“Need everybody you can think of, Jack.” He jotted down the names. Ripping off the top sheet, he handed the notepad to Henley, then folded the paper in quarters, slipping it into his jeans. Taking out his car keys, he said, “I’ll get started on this list. Oh, either Admiral Torrinson or Lieutenant Adler could be calling from NIS. I’d appreciate you taking messages instead of your men. I’ll check back with you later.” He extended his hand to Henley, who grasped it firmly. “Look, Jack, I’ll keep you in the loop as much as I can, but I need you to stay ‘under the radar’ for now. If you hear from Brit CID, I’d like you to tell me about the conversation. One more thing. Remember… no mention of that letter,” Grant said, in a lowered voice.
“Right.”
“That includes the cops and CID.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Henley asked incredulously. “How the hell can I get away with that?”
“Simple. Don’t bring it up. You and I are the only ones who know about it, except for the admiral and Joe. For the time being, I’ll hang onto it, then take care of it at the right time. For now you tell the cops whatever else they wanna know about Carter. That’s it. Got it?”
“Got it.”
Grant opened the car door, then slid behind the wheel. As he started the engine, he rolled down the window. “I think it’s best I check out of the hotel and move on base, probably tomorrow morning. Joe will be arriving tonight or early tomorrow bringing our gear. Could you have the chief make arrangements for us?”
“I’ll get right on it.” Henley rested his hand on the edge of the door. “I’ll help you all I can, Grant.”
“Appreciate that.”
“Listen, I’m sorry I lost my cool earlier.”
“Forget it.” Grant put the car into gear. “Talk with you later.”
Chapter 6
In the distance off the port side and thousands of feet below the modified 707, lights along the southeast coast of Cyprus twinkled like stars in the night. Within moments, the island was no longer in sight, the aircraft once again flying in total darkness.
Razzag Aknin reached overhead and jabbed at a button with a thick, stubby index finger, shutting off a small reading light. He readjusted his heavy-framed body in the plush seat, trying to get comfortable. Swiveling the seat around, he settled his eyes on Abu al-Massi (pronounced Ma-sigh), Libya’s Chairman of the General People’s Committee.