Bloodstorm- a Dane and Bones Origin Story

by David Wood

  “I’d love an explanation, but I’m guessing you won’t be able to tell me very much.”

  “No, sir.” Bones felt like he already had his answer, but he had risked everything to get Maxie on the line, and he wasn’t going to hang up until he heard it explicitly. “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I just wanted you to confirm what I’ve been told. Are these orders legit?”

  “I’m afraid so, son.” Maxie paused a beat, then went on. “I’ve got some good news, though. Maddock and Zara Leopov made it out okay.”

  “That is good news.”

  “I guess it was a little dicey for a while, but Dane said to tell you they made it out as easy as Luke and Leia escaping the Death Star. Or something to that effect.”

  Bones couldn’t help but laugh. “Star Wars? Maddock should know better.”

  “Well, that’s what he told me to tell you.”

  “Tell him message received.”

  Huntley cleared his throat and called out, “Commander Maxwell. Jason Huntley, here. I’m the operations officer in charge here.”

  “I know who you are, Mr. Huntley,” Maxie replie, icily.

  “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that Maddock and Leopov are also under my jurisdiction for the duration of this operation. If they’re in the clear, they need to come in. ASAP.”

  “They aren’t in the clear by a longshot. They barely made it out of Russia.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “I’m not sure. They were in Ankara, but I think they’ve moved on.”

  “Tell them to go back. Immediately. Have them report to the station chief at the embassy. He’ll take care of the rest.”

  “I’ll pass it along.” Bones could almost see Maxie speaking through clenched teeth at the other end of the line.

  “See that you do. And remind them not to talk to anyone. This is a matter of national security.”

  “So you keep telling me.” When Huntley didn’t reply, Maxie went on. “Bonebrake, you got anything else for me?”

  Bones glanced at Huntley again. The latter shook his head and made a throat-cutting gesture. “Nothing I can talk about,” Bones said. “I’ll be in touch when I can.”

  He hit the ‘speaker’ button again to end the call.

  “There,” Huntley said. “Are you happy now?”

  “Not really. You’re bottling this thing up like it was the true story behind the Kennedy assassination, but you’re treating our search for the U-boat like it’s a joke. What’s going on?

  “Need to know, and you don’t.” Huntley uncrossed his arms and tucked the pistol into a low-profile appendix-holster. “I believe you’ve got a phantom U-boat to chase. Unless, of course, you’re ready to call it quits.”

  “Which option would piss you off the most?”

  Huntley laughed again, then made a shooing gesture. Bones was only too happy to leave, but as he passed through the doorway, Huntley called out again. “Hey, what was that Star Wars reference about?”

  “Hell if I know,” Bones said with a shrug. “Maddock’s a nerd. The only thing I remember about those movies is that there was a hot chick in a gold bikini.”

  Huntley gave an indifferent grunt, but said nothing more. Bones didn’t give him a chance to think about it, but pushed through the door and headed back to the control center where the others were still waiting.

  “How did that go?” Willis asked.

  “About as well as you’d expect.” He checked over his shoulder to make sure that Huntley hadn’t followed him, and then, in a lower voice, added. “Maddock and Leopov made it out.”

  Willis and Professor gave a collective sigh of relief, and Professor added. “Are they coming here?”

  Bones shook his head again. “Not yet. Maddock sent us a message.” He relayed the cryptic message Maxie had given him.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” asked Willis.

  Professor was ready with a detailed analysis. “I would surmise that it means they had help to escape. In the original Star Wars film, Luke, with some help from Han Solo and Chewbacca, were able to free Princess Leia from her cell in the detention center. They escaped through a garbage disposal system and, after a running gun battle, made it back to their ship. While they were doing that, Obi Wan Kenobi faced off with Darth Vader and was killed, which might also be Maddock’s way of telling us that one or more of their newfound allies met an untimely demise.”

  Bones rolled his eyes. “How is it that I know the answer to this and you don’t?”

  Professor gaped at him. “Do elaborate, please.”

  “Vader let them escape so he could track them. Maddock’s trying to tell us that their getaway wasn’t clean. This Russian gangster, Telesh, is following them, probably hoping they’ll lead him straight to Lia.”

  Professor nodded, then looked over at Willis. “He’s right.”

  “It’s because he and Maddock share a brain,” Willis said.

  “Hey, that’s uncalled for,” Bones protested.

  Lia raised her hand, sheepishly. “Excuse me, but what does this mean for me?”

  Professor took her hand and patted it reassuringly. “It means Maddock and Zara are going to lead Telesh on a merry chase, while we keep following the trail to Müller.”

  “I think it means something else, too,” Bones added, and made another surreptitious check to make sure Huntley wasn’t eavesdropping. “I think Maddock is telling us not to trust anyone.”

  FIFTEEN

  Dam Neck Annex—Virginia Beach, Virginia

  Commander Hartford Maxwell regarded the phone on his desk like it was a venomous snake, poised to strike. It was an apt simile since the phone call he was about to make posed a potentially fatal risk, though not for him.

  “Maddock, what have I gotten you mixed up in,” he murmured.

  He shook his head ruefully. Like it or not, he had his orders, and inasmuch as they were not to the best of his knowledge illegal or immoral, he was obliged to follow them.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he said aloud, and reached for the handset, but before he could close his fingers around it, the phone began ringing. He started a little, pulling back his hand reflexively, but after a couple calming breaths, reached out again and lifted the receiver. “This is Maxwell.”

  He half expected it to be Maddock, or perhaps Huntley again, goading him to push through his hesitation, but the voice that sounded in his ear was female. “Commander Maxwell? This is Alex Vaccaro. We met a few years back when I was NI?”

  “The Hell Ship incident. You were Lieutenant Commander Vaccaro back then, as I recall.”

  “That’s correct, sir. I’m at Justice now. The Bureau.”

  “I see.” Maxie vaguely recalled Maddock mentioning the young woman’s career change, but decided to dispense with small talk. “Is this official business? Because if it is, you’ll have to speak with someone in JAG.”

  “Oh, no, sir. Nothing like that. This is actually a personal matter. I heard that...” She paused a beat, as if trying to regroup and when she spoke again, there was a faint tremor of emotion in her voice. “I heard from a... A mutual friend that Dane... Ah... Lost his... Umm. I just wanted to give him a call. Condolences, I mean.”

  Maxie’s pulse quickened. The “mutual friend” had to be Bonebrake, and Alex’s use of the vague term suggested the conversation was something she couldn’t talk about in detail.

  He spoke quickly, cutting her off. “Miss Vaccaro, where are you right now?”

  “Uh, I’m at work. DC, if that’s what you mean.”

  “The Hoover Building?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Perhaps we could meet somewhere? Get a cup of coffee and catch up.”

  There was a long silence on the line, followed by. “O-kay.”

  He shot his cuff and checked his watch. Almost seventeen hundred. “There’s a shuttle flight leaving Norfolk in about an hour. If I can get a seat, I should be wheels down at Reagan International by nineteen hu
ndred hours.”

  “I guess I could meet you there.”

  “No,” he said hurriedly. “Actually, it would probably be better if I came to you. I’ll explain everything when I get there.”

  Washington DC.

  After a quick flight and an even quicker taxi ride, Maxie stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the Naval Memorial—the location Alex had suggested for their rendezvous. The memorial, which Maxie had visited on numerous occasions, consisted of a small circular plaza, fronted by a pair of fountains and ringed with ships’ masts from which naval signal flags fluttered. The central feature of the memorial was the Granite Sea—a map of the globe centered on Washington, DC, but depicting all the oceans of the world. Watching over the map, from a spot roughly in the vicinity of the Bering Sea, was The Lone Sailor, a life-sized bronze sculpture of a sailor standing on a windswept pier, his sea-bag packed and ready beside him. The southern rim of the Granite Sea was bordered by twin semi-circular half walls, with stone benches on the interior, and on the exterior, a series of twenty-six bronze high relief sculptures showing various scenes and famous personages associated with the history of the United States Navy.

  The sky was already darkening into twilight, but for the moment, there was still plenty of foot traffic on Pennsylvania Avenue—mostly tourists making their way from one historical monument to the next. He surreptitiously scanned both street and park, taking note of every face, from the camera-toting visitor studying the bronze plaques on the southeastern border of the Granite Sea to the homeless man sleeping on the north steps leading down into the plaza. Any one of them might be there to keep him or Alex under surveillance, or none of them. Professionals were almost impossible to pick out of a crowd, particularly without an extra set of eyes. He would have to conduct himself as if he was being watched, and choose both his words and his actions very carefully.

  His slow visual sweep ended when he caught sight of Alex, rising from her seat on a bench on the southwestern wall. Her expression was tentative, but she took a step toward him, hand extended in greeting. “Commander.”

  He shook her hand then gestured for her to sit. “I’d like to forego the pleasantries if you don’t mind.”

  Alex’s demeanor remained wary, but she returned to her spot on the bench and folded her hands on her lap. “Let’s get to it then.”

  He sat alongside her, not quite close enough to make physical contact, but close enough to be intimate. “From your earlier comment, I know that you’ve been in contact with one of my men. Bonebrake, probably. And I also infer that you’ve been read in on their current operation, which remains classified.”

  “That’s correct. I wasn’t calling you to discuss that.”

  “I know, but as it might be difficult to talk around it, I thought a face-to-face meeting might be in order.” He dropped his volume to barely above a whisper and added, “You never know who might be listening in.”

  “I remember how to be discreet, Commander Maxwell.”

  “I’m sure you do.” He let that hang for a moment, then went on. “Bones wasn’t being completely honest with you. Maddock did lose both his parents in a car accident last week, but he’s not on bereavement leave. He’s part of the same operation. Until a couple days ago, he was out of contact. Bones was covering for him.”

  “He should have come up with a better story,” Alex remarked.

  “Yes, well, it may have been serendipity since it gave you a reason to contact me.” Maxie leaned closer. “What I’d like to know is how you got pulled into this?”

  Alex’s gaze darted left and right, perhaps in thought, perhaps checking to see if they were being surveilled. “They needed some help with a research project. Naval history. That’s my area of expertise.”

  Maxie studied her expression carefully, wondering how much it was safe to reveal. Strictly speaking, they weren’t even supposed to be having this conversation, but his gut told him that Alex was trustworthy. “I’ll be straight with you. I’ve been mostly cut out of this operation.”

  She nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me. That guy...”

  “You don’t need to say it. The point is, you probably know more about where they are and what they’re doing right now than I do. I do not like being out of the loop when my boys are in harm’s way.”

  “I read you, Commander.” Her eyes darted around again—definitely checking for surveillance. “I haven’t been completely forthcoming with you, sir. I was hoping to give Maddock my condolences, but I had another reason for wanting to contact him. Something that directly relates to this matter.

  “That spook—Huntley—was real cagey. I got the impression Bones had to beg to get him to let me consult, and even then, he wouldn’t say much about what they were really after, other than that it involved Nazi U-boats that went missing near the end of the war. But it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”

  “I know this has something to do with the Russians looking for Nazi loot.”

  “I think it might be something more. The way Secret Agent X was acting, you’d think it was something really mind-blowing. Like the answers to the SATs or something. Anyway, Bones decided to play a hunch and search the wreck of a Brazilian navy cruiser that sunk under mysterious circumstances in 1945. His working theory is that the ship was sunk by a U-boat that may have been damaged or sunk in the battle, and that it might be carrying whatever it is the Russians are trying to find. As far as I know, that’s where they were headed. Zero degrees north, thirty degrees west.”

  “You said you had information you wanted to pass on to them?”

  “Well, I got to thinking. What if the U-boat survived the battle? Where would it go next? Our assumption was that it was damaged, but if not, and if it was carrying important cargo or passengers, it would have had to offload them somewhere, right?”

  Maxie nodded. “Go on.”

  “I did some digging and it turns out that in August 1945 the FBI intercepted a radio message from local police discussing a raid in Villa Gessell. They were responding to a tip about some Germans who supposedly arrived by U-boat. They didn’t arrest anyone, but they did turn up a short-wave radio transmitter. A couple years later, though, three confessed German agents who had settled in Villa Gessell admitted to helping unload two U-boats on the night of July 28, 1945.

  “Now we already knew that two U-boats made it to Argentina, but one of them, the U-530 surrendered on July 17. Almost two weeks prior. One of them could have been the U-977. It didn’t surrender until August 17. The captain might have waited a couple weeks just to give his passengers some time to assimilate into the population. But the second U-boat... That could be the one they’re looking for. Those Germans claimed to have offloaded eight trucks worth of cargo, along with dozens of passengers. There might have been more than just two U-boats out there. If so, where did the others go? I’m betting they sailed out to deep water and scuttled them to cover their tracks and hide their numbers. It may be too late to figure out where they went and what that cargo was, but those boats might still be out there, just off the coast of Argentina. That’s where they should be looking.”

  “The Russians are taking this search pretty seriously,” Maxie said after considering the revelation for a moment. “I don’t think we can afford to do any less.”

  “So you agree, Bones needs to hear about this. I would have called him myself, but I don’t have any way to contact him.”

  “I’m not sure I do, either. Our friendly neighborhood spook is keeping them incommunicado. I can pass the information along next time he deigns to call me, but that could take a while.” An idea struck him. “I might have a workaround.”

  He took out his cell phone and brought up the call history. He scrolled down to an eleven-digit number, and dialed it. As it started ringing, he explained. “Huntley told me to have Maddock report to an Agency handler, ASAP. I was putting it off, but I guess there’s no time like the present.”

  There were several clicks as the connection was made
, and then Maddock’s voice issued from the speaker. “Maxie? What’s up?”

  “I’ll get to that in minute, but how are you? Where are you?”

  “We’re fine. We’re in Berlin at the moment, following up on something.”

  Maxie did a quick mental calculation. The time difference between DC and Berlin was six hours, which meant that it was after midnight in Germany. “Whatever it is, you’re going to have to wrap it up. Captain Midnight has new orders for you. He wants you to go to the nearest embassy and report to the station chief.”

  There was a long silence on the line. When Maddock spoke again, his voice was low, surreptitious. “Can’t you just tell him you couldn’t reach me?”

  “That might work for a day or two, tops, but I think you may want to consider biting the bullet. There’s been a development. I’m here with an old friend of yours...” He glanced over at Alex. She nodded for him to continue. “A certain Naval historian you worked with a few years ago.”

  “It’s turning into a regular family reunion,” Maddock remarked. “How’d she get mixed up in this?”

  “Your teammates consulted with her a few days ago.”

  “Why did they do that?”

  “They’re searching for a...” He frowned and looked to Alex again, wondering how much to reveal. “A U-boat that may have played a role in the matter they’re investigating. Now she has some new information for them, but no way to get it to them.”

  “I don’t understand. Can’t you just call them?”

  “That change of management I told you about... It’s disrupted communication. I’m not even certain where they are.”

  Alex chimed in. “If things went according to play, they’re in the Atlantic, off the Brazilian coast.”

  “I’m betting that Captain Midnight will bring you all together again,” Maxie said. “Even if he doesn’t, you’ll still be able to pass on what we’ve learned.”

  “So you need me to play carrier pigeon.” There was no mistaking the note of irritation in Maddock’s reply.