The two men replaced the top of the duct and retraced their steps.
Skibicki held perfectly still in the dark shadows as they passed within ten feet and slipped over the edge of the roof and disappeared.
Skibicki gave it another ten minutes, then moved forward and peered into the duct where they had worked. Directly below was the front, end of Air Force One. On the top of the plane lay the intake for inflight refueling. Skibicki nodded, satisfied that he knew what had happened and made his way back to Vasquez.
“They went back into the canal,” Vasquez reported.
“Give me the handset,” Skibicki ordered.
“The Sam Houston is supposed to be out at sea on maneuvers.
It’s under radio silence as per normal operating procedure so we’re not exactly sure where it is,” General Maxwell said.
“So in other words, it could be doing what Major Watson says it’s doing?” Senator Jordan asked.
“Yes, it could,” Maxwell said.
“What about the soldiers parachuting in?”
“The information about the refueling is correct, but I can find no record of a parachute drop or of any missions to this island by a Combat Talon aircraft. The battalion commander for 1st Battalion, 1st Special Forces Group in Okinawa says all his troops are accounted for.”
“What else?” Jordan asked.
“General Martin is waiting down the hall,” Maxwell said.
“And we still have nothing solid,” Jordan said.
“All right, bring General Martin in first and see what he has to say, then we’ll bring the major in and see what they come up with between the two of them” Boomer had spent a restless night — no word on Trace, no word from Skibicki, and he didn’t feel like he had made the best impression yesterday. In fact, somewhere around three in the morning he had seriously begun to believe that he was insane. It was only the hard plastic of Stubbs’s ID card in his pocket that kept him from going over the edge.
He started as the door to the hotel room swung open and Agent Stewart appeared.
“Senator Jordan wants to see you.”
Boomer followed Stewart down the hallway and into the large office suite occupied by the senator. General Maxwell was also there, but Boomer was surprised to see General Martin sitting stiffly in a chair across from the Senator’s desk.
“Major Watson, I believe you know General Martin.”
Boomer snapped to attention and threw a salute in Martin’s direction.
He was irritated to note that Martin didn’t stand up to return the salute, a severe breach of military protocol that only the three military men in the room were aware of. Boomer knew he was in the shit now and following the senator’s gesture, took a seat at the corner of the desk, closest to Martin but facing both men.
“Major Watson, I’ve been telling General Martin that we seem to have a problem with some military maneuvers going on around this island. I’ve had General Maxwell check things out and he has only been able to discover some limited information. I’ve also discussed with General Martin your allegations about your mission into the Ukraine. General Martin denies knowledge of any of these activities.
“I also informed him of your allegation that there is a secret military organization, which you call The Line, which has been active in the politics of this country for over half a century. General Martin says he has no knowledge of such an organization.”
Boomer felt his irritation deepen with the senator’s lawyerly diction.
You didn’t read people their rights on the battlefield — you fought. He kept his peace, waiting to find out where he was in the engagement being sparred in this room.
“I only felt it proper,” Jordan continued, “to have General Martin here to discuss this situation.” The senator looked down at his desktop.
“I have an appointment with the President in an hour and a half. I hope we can resolve this situation now.”
“There is nothing to resolve,” Martin snapped.
“I do not appreciate being called in here and having to listen to some insane story, which—”
“General,” Jordan gently interrupted, “I appreciate your situation, but I do not have the time to follow proper format at the present, and I would like to get this over with.” He shifted his gaze to Boomer.
“Is there anything you would like to ask General Martin?”
Boomer could see Martin’s face go red at the thought of answering questions from some lowly major. He didn’t understand this setup — why tip your hand to the enemy, even if you’re not sure they’re the enemy?
Having served in the military for half his life, Boomer was amazed sometimes at the different perspective civilians used to face problems.
“Sir,” he said, addressing Jordan, “I’m sure you have already asked all the pertinent questions.”
“Young man,” Senator Jordan said, “you have confessed to us that you have committed two acts that would be viewed as criminal in nature: your actions in the Ukraine, and here on this island in the death of two men.
I would suggest you take a bit more interest in the situation.”
“What do you think he’s going to tell me?” Boomer asked, the irritation plain in his voice. He knew he was so far gone over the line now that nothing mattered.
“Do you think General Martin is going to say, “Well, certainly, I was aware that the Delta Force mission into the Ukraine was designed to kill the NATO inspectors and embarrass this administration’s policy in that matter?”
“Major, you’d better watch your tone,” Martin said. He looked at Jordan.
“As you just said, this man is the one with the problem. He’s the one who has apparently confessed to breaking the law and committing murder—” As Martin ranted. Boomer suddenly realized what was going on. It wasn’t at all what a military man would do.
But Jordan didn’t view this as a military situation — he apparently thought it was a political one. The modern soldier rarely saw his opponent face-to-face. The fight was conducted from a distance. Even if you were in a foxhole four feet from your foe, you didn’t exactly stand up and look him in the eyes. But in politics you always looked the people you dealt with in the eye. It was the way the battle was waged. He realized that Jordan was watching the two of them and evaluating.
All that was fine and well inside this room. Boomer thought, but when the President went out to Pearl on the morning of the seventh they were going to be on very different turf with a very different set of rules.
Bullets didn’t argue niceties. They were final.
General Martin had finished and stood to leave.
“Do you know General Benjamin Hooker, class of ‘thirty, sir?” Boomer asked suddenly.
“He was head of the history department at the Academy for quite a few years.”
Martin paused and looked at Boomer.
“What does that have to do with anything we’ve discussed in this room, Major?”
“I believe General Hooker is a member of The Line, and I want to know if you are in communication with him.”
“You want to know?” Martin asked incredulously. He turned to Jordan.
“I don’t have to put up with this. I have always paid you the utmost respect. Senator, but I do not need to sit here and listen to this crap.”
“I want your word that none of what Major Watson said is true,” Senator Jordan said.
“I said it wasn’t true,” Martin said.
“I want your word,” Jordan repeated.
“As an officer in the United States Army, you have my word,” Martin said.
“I want the Sam Houston to immediately be ordered into port. I want any Army units participating in exercises on Oahu to return to their barracks. You will place all records of Delta Force operations for the past three months on my desk before close of business today. Is that clear?”