“Captain Stevens! Lieutenant Adler! Welcome back, sirs!” Zach greeted the two, as he came around his desk.
“How ya doing, Zach?” Grant smiled, extending a hand to the petty officer.
“I’m good, sir. Guess you haven’t heard, but I’ve got new orders.”
“Jesus, Zach! Has it been that long?”
“Afraid so, sir,” Zach answered as he shook Adler’s hand.
Grant said, “I know the admiral’s gonna miss you. Where you headed?”
“Pacific fleet, sir; the Preston.” He decided to leave it up to Torrinson to break his own news to the captain and lieutenant.
“No kidding?! We know it well,” Grant laughed. He gave the petty office a slight jab to the shoulder. “Just be careful when you’re walking on all those acres of sovereign U.S. territory!” Grant referred to the carrier’s flight deck.
“Yes, sir. I will. Oh, there’s some fresh coffee and donuts, sirs,” he said, indicating with a tilt of his head.
Adler answered, “Think I’ll hold off, Zach. But save me one or two jelly-filled, okay?”
Yes, sir. Uh, sirs, the admiral’s in his office. He’s waiting for you.”
“Okay, Zach. Talk with you later.”
The two officers tucked their caps under their left arms, then Grant knocked on the door. “Sir.”
Torrinson came from behind his desk. “Come on in, gentlemen!”
They walked in and stepped closer to Torrinson, bracing at attention. “Morning, sir,” they said simultaneously.
Torrinson walked to them with his hand extended. “At ease! Good to have you back, Grant, Joe.”
“Good to be back, sir,” Grant replied, smiling.
“Sit! Sit!” Torrinson said, motioning toward two chairs. “How about some coffee?”
“Not for me, sir. Thanks,” Grant responded.
“None for me, sir,” Adler said, hoping Torrinson didn’t hear his stomach growling.
Torrinson sat on the corner of his desk, then reached for a cup of coffee. “Well, Grant, how’d you enjoy your R&R, what there was of it anyway?”
“Great diving, sir. It’s a beautiful place… the water and country.” Grant lowered his head briefly, and then he looked up at Torrinson, thinking there was no sense in delaying. “Sir, can we talk about Commander Henley?”
“Of course.” Torrinson went behind his desk, then sat in his swivel chair. He looked at Grant. “Go ahead.”
“Well, sir, you and I had a discussion about Jack and his behavior, sir. I’d be the first one to admit that he really had me concerned. But Joe and I came to the conclusion that it was because of Mrs. Henley. In all likelihood, she confronted Webb about his being IRA, sir, then she told Jack.
“That’s when Webb, and most probably Labeaux, threatened her and then Jack, sir. Labeaux was afraid that one or both of them would report Webb’s association with the IRA. He couldn’t take that risk and have that possibly happen. That’s why they were taken hostage, sir.
“The commander was beaten. Mrs. Henley probably suffered emotional damage.” Grant pictured Victoria in his mind as he continued. “Sir, she wasn’t responding when we found her, almost as if she were in a coma. She’s gonna need some kind of treatment, Admiral.” Grant was almost pleading his case. “Sir, all they were doing was trying to protect each other.”
Torrinson pushed his coffee cup aside. He looked at Grant through narrowed eyes. “That’s not good enough, Grant. Commander Henley had a responsibility to come forward with information. That’s no excuse. And you know it.”
Torrinson rested his forearms on his desk, clasping his hands together. “I think I know where you’re headed, so answer this: Just how do you explain how Webb got the information? How and who got it for him, Grant? Explain.”
“What information, sir?”
“The informa… ” Torrinson’s brow wrinkled. “Grant.”
“Sir, Joe and I are willing to say it was Carter and Webb who were the only ones working for Labeaux. That connection was made through Callum Quinn, sir. As far as everyone’s concerned, the Henleys were taken hostage, and only because of their association with Webb… and because Jack was EOD.”
“Look,” Torrinson replied, “I appreciate what you’re both trying to do, but don’t forget the letter.”
Both officers remained quiet. Torrinson moved his eyes back and forth between the two. “Gentlemen?”
Grant finally spoke. “Sir, we never saw the actual documents supposedly passed. It’s possible Webb supplied his own details on the layout of the base, and even info on flight procedures. The only thing he couldn’t get himself was the daily schedule and type of weapons being delivered. My personal opinion, sir, is that Carter didn’t know it was Webb who put the package at the drop site. Labeaux and Webb only needed Carter for one reason — to drive. Carter was just in it for the money.”
Torrinson processed what Grant was saying, as he rocked back and forth in his chair. “So, what you’re saying is, there isn’t any letter.”
Again silence.
Adler finally spoke up. “One more important note, sir, and maybe the most important, is that all the bad guys are sorta dead.”
Torrinson could only shake his head. “Sort of dead, Joe?”
“Dead, sir. Yes, sir.”
“Very dead, sir,” Grant added.
Torrinson gave a brief nod. “I’ll file my report with the Secretaries. But are you both sure about this?”
Both officers answered in unison, “Yes, sir.”
Torrinson searched their faces, looking for any indication of hesitancy in what they were agreeing to. “All right, gentlemen. Now, do you know how long the Henleys will remain at Mildenhall, Grant?”
Grant shook his head. “No, sir. We were going to call the hospital before our flight, but we ran out of time. One other note, sir. We’re positive the EOD team will confirm our report, sir.”
Torrinson nodded slowly before asking, “Did the commander have any idea you’d be making this proposal as to how and why this all went down?”
“No, sir. All I told him was we’d do everything to see him through this, sir, and help him all we could.”
“Very well. Oh, have you filled in your ‘dance cards’ yet?” Torrinson asked. A “dance card” is an AAR, an After Action Report.
“Not yet, sir. We wanted to talk with you first. We’ll go to my office when we’re through here.”
Torrinson swallowed a last mouthful of cold coffee, then got up and came around his desk. “Then, I think it’s time to move on. Grant, Joe, I guess Zach told you he’s got new orders.”
“Yes, sir. He did. And to the Preston!” Suddenly, Grant’s brow furrowed. “Are you leaving, sir?”
Adler looked at Grant then at Torrinson. “You’re leaving, sir?”
“I am. I also have orders to the Preston.”
“How do you feel about that, sir, if I may ask?”
“Of course you can, Grant.” Torrinson walked away, not even sure how to answer. He came back to the two officers. “NIS has been my perfect job. There’s no way I’ll ever forget a single minute I’ve spent here.” Lowering his voice, and in all seriousness, he said, “You two have made it special. You know that, don’t you?”
Grant tried to lighten the moment, as he pointed at Torrinson. “We do know we’re responsible for some of those gray hairs, sir.”
Torrinson dropped his head back and laughed. “Something to remember you by!”
“When will you be reporting to the carrier, sir?”
“Mrs. Torrinson’s convinced me to take some leave, so I won’t be reporting until the third week in September.”
Grant glanced at Adler before asking, “Sir, would you mind if Joe and I got some coffee?”
“Let me have Zach get it for you,” Torrinson responded, starting to reach for the intercom.
Grant and Adler stood, laying their caps upside down on the chairs. “That’s okay, sir. We’ll get it.”