Home Goes The Warrior

by Jeff Noonan

  “My friends, I am sure that by now you all know that two of our people are in FBI custody. I doubt very much if they have said anything incriminating, but we are now much more likely to be exposed, so we need to develop a plan of action.” He looked around the table.

  Something wasn’t right!

  The man to his immediate left had dozed off. So had another man farther down the table. Suddenly the person on his right stood, grasped his throat, started to turn around, and fell face-first to the floor. As Rick stared at the group around him, all of them either went to sleep or fell over. He stood up in confusion.

  Only Marie was still awake, and now she was standing with a chrome-plated pistol in her hand. It was pointed at him!

  “I’ve waited years for this, you degenerate son of a bitch.” Her voice was calm and pitched so low he had to strain to hear it. “We gave you a chance to be something, but all you could think of was your dick. Every time you’ve touched me, I’ve sworn that I would get even. Now it’s payback time, asshole. This is for every time you ever touched me or any other woman without our permission.”

  With that she fired once, hitting him just above the point where his pants legs came together. He screamed and gasped simultaneously, a choking, muffled confusion of sounds. He sagged to a sitting position on the floor, holding his groin with one hand and the table with the other. He was staring wildly at the people around him, looking for help, but they all seemed to be silently sleeping.

  Marie laughed merrily at his confusion. “They’re all dead, you idiot. I gave them an easy way out because they weren’t bad people. But I’m going to watch you die slowly, and I’m going to thoroughly enjoy it.”

  He tried to cry out, opening his mouth to shout. But she was too fast for him. She hit him in the mouth, hard, with the gun butt. Then she skipped back, out of the range of his arms. His mouth spouted blood and he spat wildly, several white teeth decorating the red stream.

  “Don’t try that again, asshole.”

  Calmly Marie went about her preparations, keeping an eye on Rick to make sure he wasn’t moving. But he seemed paralyzed by fear. He just sat there, softly moaning and staring at her as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

  Marie gathered the few files that remained on her desk and placed them on a small table beside the door. Then, almost as an afterthought, she went back to her desk and picked up a small, decorative lamp that burned scented oils. She placed it on the small table beside the files and turned up the wick so that it was burning brightly.

  Then, walking to a door off the side of the conference room. She opened it, exposing the gas furnace that heated the building. Previously she had turned off the pilot light, so the smell of gas was already apparent in the little heater room. Still watching Rick, she squeezed behind the furnace and placed her foot on the gas connection, where the natural gas fed to the furnace. The connection had already been loosened to the point that it was hanging by just one or two threads. But, instead of unscrewing it, she stomped on it with her foot. The connection broke loose, and the loud hiss of gas escaping could be heard. She smiled and emerged, leaving the door open.

  Rick was watching her with pure terror on his countenance. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Those were his last words.

  “Bye, asshole.” She shot him in his left eye socket and watched him collapse. Then she turned toward the door. She was starting to smell the gas, even this far from the heater.

  She picked up the files from the little table, opened the door, and left the rowhouse for the last time.

  Marie drove her car to a parking spot about a block away and stopped. As she patiently waited for the inevitable to happen, she reflected on the efficiency of the little pills that she’d dissolved in the iced tea. Our KGB friends really do know what they are doing. Glad I’m on their side!

  Finally, the old wooden rowhouse exploded, with flames shooting a hundred feet into the evening sky. The shock-wave rocked her car, even this far away.

  Well, Marie Novak is gone forever. Long live Marita Novikov. With a grim smile, Marita put the car in gear and drove on toward Broad Street and the freeway entrance.

  “Tony, I do appreciate what you did. It probably saved my life. But I have to admit, it’s a bit difficult to explain to my bosses.” Lee had finally decided that he had to have a conversation with his godfather.

  “That’s crap, Lee. They aren’t watching your back, so somebody’s got to do it. Those guys in that shipyard aren’t playing around.”

  “I know, Tony. Anyway, I think we have them on the run now. From what I hear, the FBI is getting some good info from the two that Big Billy helped me catch. We should be out of the woods soon.”

  “I hope so, but for now I’m going to keep Billy around. He don’t have nothing else to do anyway.”

  “Okay. I can’t say that I mind. Somehow it’s comforting to know he’s there these days.” Lee heard a grim chuckle from Tony at that.

  “By the way, Tony, somebody took a shot at me with a rifle the other day.”

  “What! When and how?”

  “In the parking lot at the officer’s club. I think the shot came from a black Mercedes that was about halfway between the main gate and the ramp where I-95 goes past the Navy yard. He missed by about two inches, but did a hell of a job on my car upholstery.”

  “That’s a fairly long shot from there to the parking lot. If I remember right, there’s a bunch of trees and bushes in the way also. No wonder he missed. A rifle, you say?

  “Yeah. I got the slug. Looks like a 30-caliber to me.”

  “Probably the same gun that got the guy they tried to blame me for. You said it was from a black Mercedes?”

  “Yeah, it looked like it. I was having a hard time seeing through the bushes, but it looked like one of those big, four-door Mercedes. It squealed its tires trying to get out of there after the shot.”

  Lee heard Tony grunt thoughtfully on the other end of the line. At the same time, he heard the sound of sirens, both outside the BOQ and through the telephone.

  “Tony, are you hearing sirens?”

  “Yes. A bunch of them. I just saw a fire engine go by heading down Broad Street in your direction.”

  “Yeah, must be a big fire. One of the base fire trucks just went screaming out the gate, heading your way.”

  “Oh well. Probably no big deal. We’ll read about it in the Inquirer tomorrow.” The two chatted idly for a few more minutes before signing off.

  Lee’s next call was to Tom Wright, but Tom wasn’t there. He left a message and then dialed Maggie’s number. Her cheerful voice answered, but it was the answering machine, so Lee gave up. Getting out his briefcase, he settled in to read reports, getting a head start on tomorrow’s work.

  It was about an hour later that Tom called back. He had nothing to report. “These two seem to be too scared to talk or something. We’ve been working on them for over thirty hours now, and we haven’t gotten any more info than we had yesterday. We’ll keep at it.” Tom sounded exhausted, so Lee thanked him for the call and signed off.

  Lee woke early as usual. Putting on his running clothes, he started out again. But this time he ran a new route, going parallel to the base fence in the other direction. Soon he was running past the mothballed Navy ships that sat in the shipyard’s back channel. There was a lot of traffic through here, since the shipyard workers used the road as a shortcut on their way to work. With all this traffic, he wasn’t particularly worried about another ambush.

  On his way back to the BOQ, he stopped at a small stand and bought a newspaper. He folded it up and went to his room for a breakfast of cereal and coffee. As he ate, he idly glanced through the paper for anything about the fire engines that he’d heard the previous night. Finally he found the article he was hunting for and began reading it.

  “Oh, my God!” He sat staring at the article, stunned.

  FIREFIGHTERS MAKE GRIM DISCOVERY

  by

  J. Jefferson, Philadelphia I
nquirer

  The bodies of nine people were found been inside a burning South Philadelphia rowhome yesterday evening. At least one of them had been shot to death, police said. The rowhome exploded, apparently from a gas leak, at approximately 6:38 p.m., causing a four- alarm fire that had firefighters battling to save the neighboring homes. The rowhome in question appears to be a total loss, although quick action by the firefighters stopped the flames before they consumed the entire building. According to a Fire Department spokesman, most of the damage was caused by the initial explosion.

  Authorities are investigating the deaths as murder and arson, said Officer Chris O’Neal, a police spokeswoman. One of the deceased appeared to have been shot in the head, O’Neal said. Investigators had not found a motive or suspects at the time of this writing.

  The blaze was reported at about 6:40 p.m. by neighbors. According to neighbors, the home had been converted to a private club and was owned by a group known locally as “the Skimmers”. Its assumed that the dead are all members of that club, according to Lt. Bernard Williams, a Fire Department spokesman. He further stated that there may be more bodies in the rubble. The nine found last night were all grouped in the living room, he stated, and there could be more in other parts of the home when it cools enough to inspect further.

  The fire started on the first floor, apparently in a first floor furnace room. The neighbors report that a huge fireball shot about a hundred feet into the air as the home exploded, blowing the roof completely off the home. The Fire Marshal’s Office believes it to be an explosion related to a gas leak, but is still investigating to confirm the cause, Williams said.

  An arson dog was on the scene in the morning, as neighbors and relatives gathered to discuss the Skimmers, a group that were not well-known to anyone living in the area. They did comment that the well-kept house had been among the nicest on the block.

  The police are investigating to determine the identities of the victims, who are apparently not well-known to in the neighborhood.

  “Oh, my God! The Skimmers!” His voice trailed off. He was having trouble wrapping his head around this. He reread the article twice more before he sat back and picked up the telephone. His call to Tom Wright’s home number was answered immediately by the FBI agent himself.

  “Yeah?” Tom sounded sleepy.

  “Tom, it’s Lee. Are you awake enough for some news?”

  “Of course, what ‘cha got?” He sounded suddenly alert.

  “I’m gonna read you a news article from this morning’s Philadelphia Inquirer. I think you might be interested in it.” With that, Lee started reading.

  Tom was silent until he finished. Then he stayed quiet for a moment before uttering a puzzled, “What the fuck?”

  Lee stayed quiet, understanding the other man’s confusion.

  “Lee, do you know any more than this?”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay. Go ahead and go to work and do whatever you do for a living there. I’m going to get my people involved right away. You said that article was in the Inquirer?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll get back to you. Gotta go now. Thanks, Lee. This is big!” The phone went dead in Lee’s hand.

  Lee showered and went to work.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN - BREAKING NEWS SPECIAL

  he morning at work was mental agony for Lee. He knew that all hell was probably breaking loose at the site of the fire, but he had to stay where he was. He thought about walking around the shipyard to break the tension, but didn’t want to get that far from a telephone. So he waited.

  By mid morning, he had done all the work he could do while sitting at the desk, so he toured the combat systems office. He was surprised to find that the people in the building were all staying within earshot of a radio and all the radios were on a local news station. He decided to walk back and talk to Hank Herperowski. He found Hank listening intently to a little radio in his cubicle.

  “Hey, Hank. What’s with all the radios?”

  “Gee, Lieutenant, haven’t you heard? A bunch of shipyard people were found dead in a burned-out rowhouse last night. The police are identifying them one at a time and reporting over the radio. There are nine dead, and so far they’ve identified five of them. One’s a contractor, Rick Burley. Two are shipyard people from the supply department. Another one’s a shop planner from the electrical shop. The last one they identified was a DCAA11 auditor. The other four are apparently so badly burned that they haven’t been able to identify them yet. We’re all wondering who they are.”

  “Oh man, I’m sorry. I read about the fire in the Inquirer this morning, but I didn’t put it together with the shipyard. The paper said one was shot. Is that still the story they’re telling?”

  “Yeah. Burley was the one that was shot.”

  “I’ll be darned. I met him at the officers’ club the other day. I guess he must have pissed off the wrong people, eh?”

  “Sure sounds like it. They say the whole bunch of them were probably murdered. They were apparently found clumped together around a conference table that was just a few feet from the front door of the house. But none of them even left the table to try to get to the door. Really weird, if you ask me.”

  Just then the radio announced a “Breaking News Special Report,” so they both went silent to listen.

  This is a breaking news special from KYW News Radio. We’ve just been informed that no further police updates will be given regarding the South Philadelphia fire situation. According to the police spokesman, the FBI has taken control of the investigation and is halting news coverage for the time being. The spokesman states that a formal news conference will be held later in the day at a time to be announced by the police commissioner in coordination with the FBI.

  The announcer then went on to repeat the same information Hank had already given Lee, so they turned the radio down.

  Hank was excited by this latest development. “The FBI! I bet this is somehow tied to that investigation they had here a while back. I sure wish I knew what’s going on over there!”

  “I guess we’ll find out soon. Maybe as soon as the news conference this afternoon. Oh well, I guess I’d better get back to work.” With that, Lee headed back to his office.

  He found Tim Connors waiting in the reception area for him. Tim followed him into his office to ask if Lee knew anything about the fire and the murders. Lee just shook his head and asked Tim to keep him informed if any other news broke.

  “Will do, boss. By the way, I did bring a pistol in this morning. I’m keeping it quiet, but it’s there if we need it. No one else knows about it.”

  “Thanks, Tim. Keep it out of sight, but be ready. I’m not sure what we’re getting into around here. Somehow, I don’t think it’s over yet.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Tim went back into to his office, leaving Lee at his desk, deep in thought. After a minute, he picked up the telephone and dialed Maggie’s number. Her chipper “hello” at the other end of the line brightened his day. They hadn’t talked for several days and he’d missed her.

  “Hi, lover.”

  “Lee! I’m so glad that you called. I’ve been missing you, but I know you’re busy, and I didn’t want to bug you.”

  “Sweetheart, you can bug me any time you want to - with any kind of bug that you choose.”

  She laughed, a light, tinkling sound that made him feel more lonely than he’d felt in a long time. He blinked and continued, “What’s new in beautiful San Diego, Maggie? Anything on your orders?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. I’ve got them in hand now, and I’ll be leaving here in two weeks. I’m shipping all of my belongings and planning on flying there, with a stopover in Utah to visit my folks. I should be there in about three weeks.”

  “Wow. That’s great! I have to admit, I’ve been missing you - a lot! Gosh, I’ll be glad to see you!”

  “Me too, big guy, me too! Now what’s new there? How goes the super snoop business?”

  �
�Maggie, you won’t believe it. Things are happening. I’m not totally sure what it all means, but things are definitely happening.” He then told her about the events of the past few days. After the first few moments, she went silent and let him tell the story.

  She was still silent for a short while after he finished. He was about to ask if she was still on the line when her voice came across, her tone steely. “Let me get this straight. You were attacked and have some broken ribs. Tony’s goon saved your life, and the two of you captured the attackers. Then you were shot at. And now nine people have been murdered. Is that everything?”

  “Yeah. Pretty much.” He knew he was in trouble.

  The same steely tone continued, “You son of a bitch! All that, and no phone calls? What if you died? Goddamn you! I wish I were there right now. I’d kick your ass up between your ears.” She had to stop. She was sobbing hysterically.

  “I’m sorry, Maggie. I did try to call, but I got the answering machine and I didn’t want to leave any of this in a message.”

  That didn’t appease her. “You know damned well that you can call me at work in any kind of emergency. Answering machine, my ass!” She was having trouble talking around the sobs, but she was getting the message across.

  “I’m sorry. I know that I can call the hospital. But, to be honest, I didn’t want to worry you.”

  The conversation went on for almost a half-hour. Maggie was genuinely mad and Lee was absolutely contrite. He knew he’d screwed up and he wasn’t going to do anything that made it any worse. By the time they hung up, they were back on good terms, but Lee had promised a telephone call every other day for the next three weeks. He felt good to get off so lightly. He’d never heard Maggie so mad before.

  When the call ended, he hung up the receiver and leaned back in his chair to think about it. But Jane came in with a message, breaking his thought pattern before it really became formed. “Your cousin called again. He’s at a Philly number this time.”