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The White House

“What do you mean he’s being followed?” the President asked.

“We have two cars with eyeballs on the person right now,” Kurt West said. “When a young officer was detailed to take Hammond’s car back to San Diego, he noticed it and called in. He’s sitting in an old Nissan across from the Naval Station gate watching the car like a hawk.”

“What about the other families? Are they being tailed too?” the President asked.

West shook his head. “Not as far as I can tell so far. It’s a little soon, but we immediately sent people out to check. The first indications are that he’s the only one.”

The President sat back and thought a minute. “Any idea who this guy is yet?”

“Not yet. We have good photos and we’re running his face through the system. I even have people checking with Immigration in case he’s come in from outside. I should have something tomorrow morning,” West said.

“Okay, now the big question — why Roger?”

West shrugged. “Whoever it is, they’re afraid of him or what he might do. He’s the only military man in the bunch. My guess is they think he might just be able to do them some harm. Why else would you keep tabs on a guy?”

The President chuckled. “Whoever it is has that right. Roger could put a hurt on just about anyone if he put his mind to it. Just looking at what he did during the last war.” The President stopped and his eyes widened a bit. He looked at West, who had the same expression on his face.

“But why him instead of people in the Pentagon? It’s not a U.S. retaliation they’re afraid of, it’s him,” said West as he thought it through.

The President sat a moment in thought, then a smile appeared on his face. “Of course it’s him. Either this is a retaliation against him for the war — which is a little unlikely, or they found out they had his wife and are taking some precautions. Remember what he did with the Iowa? He dashed in and wiped out dozens of enemy positions along the coast. When he had a task force full of battleships he did even more damage. I bet they think he might just get in his old ship and try something,” the President said with some excitement.

“Yea, but no one man can take something like a battleship and act on his own,” said West.

The President nodded. “To us that’s true, but to someone who considers himself all powerful, who has people jumping at his command, it’s another story.”

West nodded. It made sense. “Looks like I need to get people looking at each of the battleship sites as well. If some people are watching those, we may have something to go on,” he said.

“Good enough. Now what about this guy watching Hammond?”

West smiled. “I want to trail him along a bit. Let him think he’s doing exactly what he’s supposed to do, then when the time is right, we nail him and get a little information. If there are people watching those ships or any of the other families, we’ll nail them at the same time. By then, we may know who they are reporting to.”

“You’re a sneaky SOB when you want to be, Kurt. Let’s get these guys,” the President said with a grin.

West gave a wink. “Yes sir, Mister President,” he said as he turned and left the room.

The President chuckled and turned to his secure phone. After a hit on his speed dial someone answered immediately. “This is the President, let me speak to Admiral Johnson,” he said. It only took a moment before Admiral Johnson came on the line. “Admiral, I’d like to know when the next two battleships are scheduled for their underway periods.”

“No problem, sir, as I recall the North Carolina is scheduled for later this month and the Iowa is just after the election in November. Missouri is next after that out in Pearl. Is something up?” Johnson asked.

“Maybe. Kurt West just handed me some information that could be interesting. Didn’t you tell me that those crewmen were still aboard Iowa?”

The Chief of Naval Operations chuckled, “Yes sir. They refuse to leave until their mayor’s back.”

“Bless their hearts. I’m thinking about making their dreams come true. How quick could we get a reserve crew onboard?” the President asked.

“Less than a week if we push it. You need me to come over?”

“No, but you might have your staff take a look at both ships getting underway a little early. We’ll talk in the morning at the briefing.”

“Boss, I’m sensing the devious side in you. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll have some answers for you,” Johnson said.

“Thanks, Perry. It could be fun. Good night,” the President said as he hung up the phone.

In the Pentagon, Perry Johnson sat back in his chair. Something was cooking and his boss needed some answers. He smiled. The President was right. It could be fun. Two calls later and the halls on the Navy side of the Pentagon began to churn.

Camp Lejeune, North Carolina

Dale Ricks sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi-like hot tub, adjusted the rubber feet over the stumps of his legs and swung himself over the side and into the warm, bubbly water. He immediately let out an audible sigh. After four days in the swamps, his muscles ached and the water caressed every part of him. At the debrief, there wasn’t a single fault found in his team’s execution. The hostage had been rescued and the bad guys eliminated. Not a bad end to any situation, he thought to himself. But the hours required to remain unmoving, or only slightly moving, through the warm infested, murky waters, had left his body stiff and sore. Even when the water moccasin had decided to perch itself on his camouflaged helmet, he had been unable to react to it. Only when he had slowly submerged his head under the water did the snake finally swim away. That alone had taken ten minutes. Such was the price to pay for being stealthy. Ricks slowly turned his body in the roiling water to stretch his tired muscles and let the tension drain away.

As Ricks finally sat back and let the bubbles do their work, one of the staff plopped down beside him in the water. Staff Sergeant Stan Whitman was a part of the training staff at the school. As another Army member, he and Ricks had hit it off over a beer the night Ricks pulled in. Whitman was tall and lanky, but he could throw a 200 pound man through a brick wall whenever he liked.

“Damn, Ricks, did you have to embarrass the Major that bad? He’s going to be after the rest of us for weeks,” Whitman said with a grin.

Ricks shrugged. “If he wants to play with the big guys, he needs to bone up a little,” he said without opening his eyes.

Whitman chuckled. “I just wish I could have been there to see the look in his face. He walks around here like he’s a gift from the gods. This should knock him down a peg or two. He’s been saying for a long time that his team was the best. Then you made him eat those words. You being an Army puke made it even worse,” he said.

“Well, you can tell that Marine that I got my training in the wilds of Korea. Spent over a month behind enemy lines. When the Marines needed help, they called on me,” Ricks said with a grin. “I even have a Navy Cross to prove it.”

“Not to mention the big one,” said Whitman, referring to his Medal of Honor. “You did real good out there, man. Your team is top notch. Who knows, you might even get called in for the latest,” he said.

Ricks and his team had been out for days and hadn’t heard of anything in the outside world. He got a puzzled look on his face as he turned his head toward Whitman. “Haven’t heard. What’s happened?”

“Seems like somebody decided they didn’t like us again. They kidnapped over a dozen of our mayors at some conference down in Colombia,” Whitman said.

“Any ideas who did it?”

“Not as far as I know.”

Ricks grunted. “Why is it some of these guys think they can get away with this shit,” he said disgustedly.

“Same old thing. We’re the big bad Americans. ‘I’ll get you,’ and all that. They really aren’t too smart,” said Whitman.

“Ain’t that the truth. And as usual, we get to clean up their mess. Anybody special we might have heard of?”

“Not really, but it turns out one of the mayors is married to some navy admiral. The news has made a little fuss over it. Other than that…”

Ricks sat up and looked hard at Whitman. “You know the name?”

Whitman was a little surprised. Suddenly the water had turned really cold. “I think it was something like Hammer or Hanley, or something.”

“Roger Hammond?”

“Yea, that was it. Why?”

Ricks pulled himself quickly out of the water and grabbed his towel.

“What’s the matter, Dale? You know this guy or something?”

Ricks turned and looked at Whitman. To Whitman, Ricks face had changed from its normal easy going look to one that made him shiver. It was a face you didn’t want to see on a dark night. “He’s a friend of mine,” said Ricks.

Whitman was about to say something when a young Private came into the gym shouting Ricks’ name.

“Master Sergeant Ricks, the CO wants to see you and your team ASAP,” the young man said.

Ricks glanced at Whitman. “I guess you were right,” he said as he headed for the dressing room.