He massaged his shoulder, as he rotated his arm. He walked toward Baranski. “Gunny, are there patrols throughout the day, I mean, especially patrols around the perimeter of the base?”
“Yes, sir. I don’t know what kind of schedule there is, though. Just like us, the Brits keep that stuff close to the vest.”
“Understand, but what’s the possibility your C.O. could ask them to step up patrols, day and night?”
“Well, Colonel Donaldson got them to add extra guards. Can’t see why he won’t want to do this.”
“Appreciate it, Gunny. Listen, did you have anything else for us tonight?”
“Uh, no, sir. Just let me know if you need any help, sir. I mean… ”
Grant walked Baranski to the outer office. “You’re first on my list, Gunny.”
Once Baranski left, Adler yawned and rubbed his eyes. “What say, skipper, think we can catch some Zs? Expect we won’t get much the next couple of days.”
As the two walked to the barracks, they remained quiet. This op was similar to the mission in Russia. They were tasked with stopping an East German fanatic from poisoning Politburo members. Except this time, the effects were far more reaching — they had no idea what Labeaux intended. They only knew he had to be stopped.
Adler started to open the door to the barracks, when Grant said softly, “Hold up, Joe. Let me run something by you.”
“Sure.” Adler closed the door. They walked farther away from the building. “Speak to me.”
“Okay, the majority of nukes at St. Mawgan are meant to be delivered by aircraft,” Grant began.
“Affirmative.”
“Now, I’d say the odds of Labeaux’s co-conspirators having the knowledge and ability to fly any jet is remote.”
“Agreed.”
Grant shook his index finger at Adler. “But what if he wasn’t planning on flying anything outta here?”
“Wait! You know there’s a shitload of procedures to go through to arm one of those ‘babies’ and that’s not done till the aircraft’s airborne. Why and how do you think he’d try to explode something from the ground?” Adler asked, surprised and worried at the thought.
“Didn’t say that. What if he just intends to hold the base captive for some reason, threatening?”
“C’mon, skipper. Do you really think Labeaux would do that? I mean, do you think he’s doing this solely for money?”
Grant paced back and forth. “Oh, I’m sure he’s being paid handsomely. But, you’re right. It’s not his style to extort. And it’s probably too goddamn late to find out anything about his past.”
“You think he’s got some deep emotional issues pent up inside from his childhood?” Adler asked facetiously.
“We can check with Dr. Freud later. For now, let’s rethink aircraft.” He started walking away when he stopped short. “Shit!”
“What?!”
“We’ve gotta get the choppers outta here.” He took off toward EOD.
Adler yelled, “What the hell…!” He caught up to Grant. “And your reason?”
“It’s a helluva lot more likely Labeaux would attempt to get his hands on a chopper than a jet.”
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute! A chopper? Don’t you think that’s just a little slow to fly something outta here? Shit! A jet and its weaponry could blow it to smithereens within the blink of an eye.”
“We can’t take the chance, Joe. We’ve gotta remove anything the son of a bitch could possibly get his hands on. Christ! I’d ship all the ordnance outta here under cover of darkness, if we had the time.”
“Okay, but where the hell could you send the choppers? What if we need one?”
Grant decided St. Eval was the perfect location. The distance was less than two miles and the choppers could be recalled in a heartbeat. They couldn’t give Labeaux a heads-up by moving them out too early. Late this afternoon or early evening he’d make it happen.
As they approached the EOD office, Grant thought out loud, “It’s time to have the base C.O. invited to this party.”
“You’re planning on calling Torrinson again, aren’t you?”
“Why not? We shouldn’t have all the fun.” Grant’s smile slowly disappeared. He went silent, backing away from the door and looking straight ahead toward the airfield.
Adler had seen the look many times before. The clenching of the jaw, the grinding of teeth, meant the “wheels” were definitely spinning. He’d usually let it play out, staying quietly to himself, never knowing what to expect, or where the thought process would lead them.
The waiting was killing him this time. Putting his hands on his hips, he stepped in front of Grant. “Well, you gonna fill me in?”
Grant tugged on the brim of his cap. “The way Gunny described the bunker and its security, I can’t imagine Labeaux attempting an attack directly on it. I’m thinking Labeaux will go after the plane making the delivery. Think I’ll see if we can get that flight delayed or stopped altogether. Let’s see how much pull Torrinson’s got.”
“Maybe that’ll give us the extra time we need to catch the bastard!” Adler said, nodding his head.
Grant had his hand on the doorknob. “And about those Zs — consider them taken. After we make the call, we’re heading to CID. Maybe they can help find where Labeaux’s hiding.”
Chapter 15
“You got the radio?” Grant asked as they got out of the MG.
“Got it handy.”
As they headed for the entrance to the station, Adler ran a hand back and forth across his chin. “Don’t think either one of us is looking too presentable this morning, skipper.”
“Not a priority. Come on.” Grant took off his cap and smoothed his hair back. He opened the door.
The two of them approached the desk. “Excuse me,” Grant said.
The uniformed officer turned around. Grant immediately recognized the constable. “Sergeant Fowley, right?”
Fowley looked at Grant for a moment. “Oh, you’re the American I spoke with the other night.”
“Yes, sir. Grant Stevens. This is Joe Adler.”
Both Adler and Fowley acknowledged each other with a nod, then Fowley looked again at Grant. “What brings you here this lovely morning? Could it be you’re wanting to speak with Chief Inspector Townsend?”
“Yes, sir. I realize we’re a little late in… ”
“Wait here,” Fowley ordered. He walked from behind the desk, then turned down a hallway.
Adler leaned sideways against the desk and propped an elbow on top. “See you’ve made another friend.”
“Yeah. We’re good buds.” Grant went near the end of the desk, looking down the hallway, finally seeing Fowley motioning for him. “Let’s go. We’re being summoned.”
Fowley stood in the middle of the hall, waiting. As Grant and Adler approached him, he held an arm out to the side. “Right in there, gentlemen.”
“Thanks, sergeant,” Grant said with a sideways glance.
He and Adler walked into a large open room with several desks, separated by low dividers, and lit by bright florescent lights.
They stood by the door, finally seeing a tall man walking towards them. He was about 6’4”, with short, light brown hair, thin features and a ruddy complexion.
Grant extended a hand. “Chief Inspector Townsend?”
Royce Townsend shook Grant’s hand, holding it with a firm grip. “That’s correct. I believe Sergeant Fowley said you are Grant Stevens?”
“Yes, sir, and this is Joe Adler.”
Townsend and Adler shook hands, then Townsend directed them into the conference room.
Grant pulled a chair out and sat down, keeping his windbreaker zipped up, covering his .45. He started to reach for the letter in his pocket, then decided to hold off.