“I’m your brother; I know that’s not you. It’s been a long night though, we’ll finish that later. You know, I never got a chance to hear how you got back to us. I know you were in south Texas, but how did you make it two states over when we can’t even get out of our own town without a fight?”
“It’s kind of a long story.”
Jake smiled, “I’ve nowhere to be.”
Geram smirked and remarked, “You were warned.” He leaned back in the chair, stretched, and then began, “Barrett, the squad leader for the guardsmen on South Padre, was a former SEAL, so we were very lucky in that respect. The man exhibited enough restraint to communicate with us immediately after we tried to kill his entire squad. I couldn’t have done that. I was impressed by him from the moment we met.
After he learned we were SEALs as well, I think he genuinely believed we’d been set up. It probably didn’t hurt that we were feeling some unadulterated fury about our mission at that point. He escorted us back to their station on the island for individual debriefings, or perhaps you could say interrogations.”
Jake interrupted, “You’re certain none of your team knew about the mission?”
“Absolutely, without a doubt, I am certain. I know the character of those men, there is no way they would’ve knowingly killed an American citizen, much less a fellow soldier.”
“Who do you think did know?”
“I don’t know how high that goes, probably wherever the intelligence originated.”
“Probably. Okay, continue.”
“So after the debriefings, we were basically free men. They kept an eye on us and didn’t let us wander far, but we weren’t locked up. Barrett and our squad leader got real close. I think they saw a lot in each other they could relate to.
After several days, a ship filled with supplies for the island showed up. We were given the option of staying or being stow-aways for the trip back to Pascagoula.”
“They just let everyone go?”
“Those of us with families left. The men that had no one chose to stay and fight. By the end of it, we were still SEALs, but we were guardsmen as well.”
“You said the ship was from Pascagoula?”
“Apparently some guy who owns a shipyard there has a brother on the island. He’s been sending supplies to them for quite a while. I heard talk from the crew on the ride back that the next ship would have men – soldiers – bound for the island as well. There’s a movement going on, bro. People are choosing sides even as we speak. The truth is getting out about the border. People are livid at our government for not stepping in, so they’re taking it on themselves. It’s mostly military men that’ve deserted out of disgust, but there’re some private contractor volunteers as well. These are men that swore to defend the constitution and I guess they got tired of being made into liars. Civilians are involved too, but they’re mostly in support roles, like the ship and safe houses.”
“Safe houses?”
“When we reached Pascagoula, they stuffed us in the back of a refrigerated truck, under what must have been a ton of shrimp and oysters. Thank God they only drove for a few minutes before they let us out. I didn’t know if I was going to get crushed or freeze to death, but I felt certain I was going to die in a seafood delivery truck.”
Jake chuckled at the imagery as Geram continued, “We stayed hidden in the back of this little restaurant, Petit Bois, for several days. We ate like kings – shrimp, oysters and tuna for every meal. I know it was a safe house because they may’ve had a dozen customers the entire time we were there. They definitely weren’t surviving on the patronage of their clientele.”
“How bad was Pascagoula?”
“I heard talk that it was bad elsewhere, but we were close to the shipyards and the industries on the water. The National Guard or Homeland or someone must’ve been providing security, because it seemed safe enough from inside. It’s not like I got out much though, they mostly kept us hidden in a supply closet in the back.
Anyway, as trucks would leave the city for destinations close to where we were going, they would stop by and pick us up. We’d ride out of town in the back with their freight. I was the last one to leave. I hitched a ride in a semi-truck hauling bottled water to Oxford. The driver let me out about twenty miles from your house. I traveled through the woods and followed the creek to the back of your property.”
“That is unbelievable.”
“Believe it. I’m sitting here.”
Jake yawned and stood to stretch as he said, “Well, I’m glad you’re sitting here. It’d be tough without you.”
“Don’t I know it. Hey, go get some rest. I’ll take the first shift of the night.”
Jake smiled and said goodnight, before retreating back into the mansion. Geram closed his eyes and listened to what sounded like the croaks of a million bullfrogs coming from the ponds. He allowed his mind to wander over all of the events that had happened in the last few weeks. He laughed at himself as he shivered at the thought of the ride in the frigid, seafood truck. He slung his rifle over his back and grabbed his night-vision goggles as he prepared to walk the balcony perimeter.
Ch apter 15
William
Arlington, Virginia
The heavy rain relentlessly assaulted the fire, but it refused to extinguish. The eternal flame at the tomb of JFK had weathered worse storms than this one, but not many. The site was centrally located in the cemetery, just east of the Arlington House. The house was a Greek revival-style mansion that was once belonged to of Robert E. Lee. During the Civil War, the grounds of Lee’s estate were selected as the site for Arlington National Cemetery by the Federal government as a means to ensure the general would never be able to return.
The tomb was simple but elegant. The burial plot for the four graves contained a pattern of rough-hewn, granite fieldstones that were in turn surrounded by a white-marble terrace. The site was surrounded by magnolia, cherry and hawthorn trees. The marbled terrace descended to a plaza that was encircled by a wall engraved with a few of Kennedy’s most memorable quotes.
William was the only cemetery’s visitor, and for good reason. Anyone in their right mind would never be out in this weather, he thought to himself. He had not gone mad; rather he preferred the privacy that the storm afforded.
William strolled along the plaza with his umbrella overhead. He read the quotes as he waited impatiently. He paused in front of one quote that particularly caught his attention and read it aloud with disdain.
“In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shrink from this responsibility. I welcome it.”
The foolish words of a forgotten generation, he regarded.
He turned and watched a figure approach from the south, near Bobby’s grave. The man was in a long trench coat and hat. William reached his hand deep into his coat and gripped his Walther. The figure in the trench coat saw the discrete movement and tipped his hat. William relaxed his grip and started forward to meet the cloaked man.
They met in the center of the plaza and shook hands. Even in the darkness, William could still see the man’s bright, blue eyes blazing from underneath the hat. The man with the blue eyes greeted William and remarked, “Isn’t this all such a waste?”
“It’s a disgrace, a memorial to imperialism. Where is the tomb of the unknown worker? Or is he less honorable than a man who is paid to kill by his government? I’ll be glad when all of this is gone.”
“Well, I meant more like how it’s prime real estate wasted on a graveyard, but I can see your point.”