Danger Close (Shadow Warriors)

by Lindsay McKenna

  A muscle leaped once in Boland’s set jaw as he stood staring at the colonel. “The time for social amenities is long since past, Colonel.”

  “I see….” Mackey withdrew his hand. He walked over to the large cherry desk, pulling open a drawer and choosing a cigar. “Sit down then, and we’ll have it out,” he growled.

  “I’ll stand,” Jim countered, moving toward the desk, placing himself between Cathy and Mackey. He watched as the colonel bit off the end of the cigar and then slowly lit it. A thin stream of smoke curled from the corner of his hard mouth, his eyes assessing as he locked with Boland’s.

  Mackey stood, the desk a barrier between them. “How are you, Cathy?” he asked, the hardness gone from his gravelly voice.

  She swallowed. “Better, Mac. Improving every day.”

  “Good, I’m glad.”

  “Are you?” Jim snarled, squaring off at the colonel.

  Mackey slowly turned his head, a glint of anger in his eyes, his expression set like a pit bull getting ready to leap at the throat of his intended quarry.

  “You know, Jim, we go back a long way. You’ve been like a son to me—”

  “Cut the crap, Colonel. That’s old history. Don’t bother with the rest of whatever line you were going to pull on me, because it won’t work. We’re here for one reason. Why did you lie to Cathy about me?”

  Mackey inhaled deeply on the cigar, holding Boland’s glare. “You don’t know the whole story.”

  “No, but we’re going to have it before we leave here today.”

  He tapped the ashes off the glowing tip of the cigar, aware of the tension in every muscle of Boland’s body. “No, you won’t.”

  “Don’t give me that ‘need-to-know basis,’ Colonel.”

  Mackey’s glare clashed with his. “That’s exactly what it is, Captain.” He emphasized Boland’s rank, reminding him whom he was talking to. “And you’d damn well better cool this temper of yours. I won’t stand still for insubordination from a junior officer.”

  “It won’t work, sir. If you don’t give us a reasonable explanation, we’re going to the press. I’ve read enough papers between Friday and today to know that you’re in deep shit over this leak of ‘need-to-know’ information concerning the wiretapping fiasco.” His voice roughened with anger. “I figure since I’m a mystery guest in this whole stinking matter, I can blow a few more holes into whatever little political game you’re playing. Would the senators like to know the whole story on this wiretapping? Like my refusing to go through with it because Cathy wasn’t up to handling it? You’ve abused her trust, Colonel.” He stalked the perimeter of the room, his gaze never leaving Mackey.

  “You don’t know what the hell you’re ranting and raving about, Captain. I’ve treated Cathy as if she were my daughter! How dare you infer I’ve done anything to harm her.”

  “I’ve got some of it figured out, Colonel. You wanted Lane. You’d told me this wiretapping matter was only at regimental level. You lied. I come out of a coma and I find out a senate hearing is making big news in Washington. Did you know that when you asked me to get to Cathy? I’m sure you did.” Jim answered his own question and placed his hands flatly against the desk.

  “Senate hearings, Colonel. I’m impressed. What were you going to get out of this? Nothing less than a general’s star, I’m sure. And what else? Senator Fredericks is obviously pushing to see Major Lane hung. He’s the fair-haired boy who’s running for president in two years. A nice, tidy little package deal you got for yourself, didn’t you? A man who might be president if you did a little dirty work for him to gain him favorable press.” Jim’s voice lowered in disgust. “You and whoever else is involved in this, didn’t give a damn if you manipulated me or Cathy.”

  “Captain, you’re way out of line,” Mackey said. “What you’re suggesting is totally wrong. You’re angry and you’re striking out at anything or anyone to get even. Now you settle down, you’re just firing into the dark.”

  Jim stood up, rolling his shoulders to throw off the accumulated tension gathered in them. He jabbed a finger at Mackey. “You used my trust in you. After Cathy refused to work with you, I’ll bet you were scrambling. I don’t know if that firefight at Ban Pua where Ingram and Hayes got killed was your doing or not. Having watched Lane, she’s just as capable of planning their demise as you were.”

  “Now you wait just one damn minute!” Mackey snarled harshly, going rigid. “I won’t be accused of such an outrageous atrocity!”

  “The fact remains that Cathy was the only survivor of that firefight.” Boland’s eyes turned glacial. “You immediately flew to her side and pretended to become her friend and mentor, just as you had to me previously. And just like me, she fell for your ploy. Congratulations, Colonel, you’re a real good actor.” A sliver of a smile cut across Jim’s features. “So where does that leave you now? With your ass in a sling. The impression I got from the newspapers is that Fredericks is now backpedaling like crazy, trying to disengage himself from you. He’s trying to appear neutral so no matter the outcome of these hearings, he’s safe. The attack has shifted and Lane’s looking like a victor in all this while you go down the tubes. Does that mean no general’s star, sir?” His nostrils flared. “An early pension out of the Corps instead?”

  Mackey slowly drew the chair out from beneath the desk and sat down. His eyes locked on Boland’s angry face. He studied the cigar for a long time and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. “Get out of here, Captain. I’m tired of listening to your tirade. I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  Cathy rose and went over to Jim, gripping his arm. She could feel the tension beneath her fingers and she gave both of them a pleading look. The muscle in his jaw leaped again, but Jim’s gaze never left the colonel.

  “Mac?” she begged. “Please, tell me what happened. We’re all upset over this.”

  Some of the agitation left Mackey’s face as he looked over at Cathy. He saw the anguish in her eyes. “You were our only living witness to all this, Cathy,” he began quietly. “The doctors said you’d survive. I waited another three hours until Boland came out of surgery. At that time, the medical team said he would be out of anesthesia in an hour or so. Well, he never came out and Dr. Cornell led me to believe that he would die.” He shot a glance to Boland. “I assume you talked to Cornell about all this?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he told you the same thing I’m telling her now, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, but that didn’t give you the right to lie to her, Colonel. Not one damn bit.”

  Cathy gripped Jim’s arm, giving him a look to remain silent.

  “Colonel…Mac…why? Why did you keep the truth from me?”

  Mackey scowled and inhaled on the cigar, unable to hold her tear-filled eyes.

  Jim put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. “Because the colonel wanted all of your energies focused on this hearing for his star and for Fredericks’s ambitions,” he gritted out. “Isn’t that right, Colonel? You figured if Cathy knew I was alive, she’d want to be at my side. You and I both knew her well enough to realize she’d stay with me and refuse to go to the hearing.”

  Cathy swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Mackey blurred before her. “Mac?” She prayed Jim was wrong.

  Mackey allowed the cigar to drop into the ashtray, clasping his hands across his flat, hard stomach, meeting their stares. “It was my personal opinion that you wouldn’t be able to simultaneously cope with Boland being in a coma and trying to testify. I made the best decision I could under the circumstances. The doctors were worried about your strength. I’m sorry, but the mission came first.”

  Cathy gripped Jim’s arm. Jim had been right. They had both been callously used without their permission. “I’m sorry too, Mac,” she choked. Her voice quavered. “For all of us.”

  “Don’t worry, Cathy, he’ll sleep at night. He’s real good at this sort of thing. A past master of it.” Jim’s voice shook with feeling. “W
ho else was involved in this? Was Dr. Tucker?”

  Mackey shook his head. “I brought Tucker and Arnley in to try and help support Cathy emotionally,” he defended.

  “And Fredericks?”

  “He’s aware that you were coming in to see me today.”

  “Is the room bugged?” Jim asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he looked around. “Is he taping this for the next act of his inquisition circus to get him headlines? You know, I’ll say this for Major Lane—at least she’s up-front about manipulating the media for her own reasons. You and Fredericks abused the privilege of Cathy’s trust in you, hoping to use her as a spearhead to get Lane.” Jim put his arm around Cathy. “Come on,” he muttered, “we’re leaving.”

  Mackey rose and watched them walk to the door and open it. “Wait,” he called.

  Cathy turned. In that moment, Mackey looked gray and exhausted. Jim’s arm tightened protectively around her.

  “What is it?” Jim demanded.

  “Will both of you be at the hearings tomorrow?”

  “You bet we will, Colonel. And it won’t do your side or Major Lane’s any good at all. I won’t stand by and allow Roman to shred Cathy. He’ll deal with me this time or no one at all.”

  Cathy tore her gaze from Mackey, sadness in her eyes. As Jim shut the door and they slowly walked down the hall, she was dazed by the fury of the confrontation. “Will this ever end?” she asked.

  “The showdown is Monday,” Jim promised her grimly, leading her to the bank of elevators. “With Mackey’s career smeared and Fredericks in an embarrassing position, I’m sure they’ll let the hearing die quickly and as painlessly as possible.”

  She turned to Jim. “Major Lane will slide out of this whole thing. No one knows if Simmons was killed by Captain Ingram or if it really was an accident.”

  “We’ll never know,” Jim agreed, leading her into the elevator. “And frankly, all I want to do is get you to hell out of this hearing. You’re pale right now. And you’re cold.” He captured her damp fingers. “This kind of pressure is murder on anyone,” he growled. “No one needs it.”

  Cathy leaned tiredly against him. “I have thirty days’ leave coming. How about you?”

  “Thirty days,” he confirmed. Jim’s face lost its harsh edge as he drank in her exhausted features. “Want to spend them with me in the Rocky Mountains at a trout stream near Gunnison, Colorado?”

  “The mountains sound wonderful,” Cathy agreed softly. “We both need peace and quiet.”

  The elevator doors whooshed open and they stepped in. “Hang in there with me, babe. We’ll get you down off the firing line soon.”

  CATHY GIRDED herself as they made their way down the hall to the hearing room. Shock waves surged throughout the building, reporters stymied as Jim Boland, in his summer uniform, escorted her toward the room. His hand was firmly on her elbow and guiding her gently through the crowd of yelling, shouting reporters. The blinding strobe lights of the television cameras hurt Cathy’s eyes. His presence shored up her broken defenses. The grim caste in his slate-colored eyes and the set of his jaw steadied Cathy. At Jim’s side, covering the other flank was Arnley, followed by an equally grim William Wendell from the Justice Department.

  Word that Jim was the Marine officer who was involved with Cathy Fremont earlier and thought dead caused a near riot in the press corps as they entered the hearing room. Cathy’s gaze fastened on Lane’s lawyers, who rose to their feet to catch a glimpse of him. Lane’s face remained masklike and Cathy felt the scorching intensity of her narrowed gaze moving from her to Jim. And when the lawyers caught sight of William Wendell sitting down with Boland next to Cathy, an unsettled feeling rolled like silent shock through the room. Cathy watched Lane’s camp. The fear she had sensed around Lane on that first day washed over her strongly now.

  Fredericks, who had been briefed by Mackey late Sunday afternoon of Boland’s unexpected reappearance, looked harried. Finally, he got the press and the gallery to come to order and the double oak doors to the room closed with an ominous finality. The senator noted that Major Lane was talking at length with her battery of five lawyers, who surrounded her like attentive drones to a queen bee. Fredericks glanced down the long, curved table to Jacob Roman, who remained unaffected by all the commotion. Fredericks rubbed each hand on the thigh of his Savile Row trousers, not wanting the gavel to slip from his grasp when he had to pound it to bring the hearing to official order.

  The urge to draw out his linen handkerchief and mop the accumulated perspiration off his brow was uppermost in his mind. The television cameras would hone in on his sweaty face and the viewing public might misinterpret it. Damn, they were in a real bind, and he knew from speaking at length with Mackey that Captain Boland wasn’t going to be doing either of them any favors.

  Fredericks banged the gavel and cleared his throat. He began by explaining the situation surrounding Boland, offering a signed affidavit from Dr. Cornell as to the reasons he hadn’t attended the hearings sooner. He purposely avoided the issue of Boland being “dead,” praying that it would not become an issue at the hearing.

  Fredericks craned his neck forward. “Senator Roman, if it meets with your approval before you continue your questioning of Corporal Fremont, Captain Boland would like to make a short, summary statement, waiving his rights for full testimony until a more feasible date.”

  Roman nodded his partially bald head. “My pleasure, Mr. Chairman. I’ll be more than happy to yield the floor to our mystery guest.”

  Cathy felt her heart being squeezed in fear as Jim, who sat at her left, pulled the microphone over to him. Unlike her, his hands were steady and she felt an aura of controlled anger emanating strongly from him. His resonant voice filled the chamber.

  “Gentlemen, the staff is in the process of passing around copies of my complete service record. I wish to, at this time, waive my rights of testimony until a more promising date, to be decided on by this committee. I would like to apologize for not attending the hearings sooner, but an injury prevented me from participating until now.”

  Cathy stole a furtive look toward Lane’s table across the aisle. The major’s face was drawn and wary. Beyond her, Lieutenant Cassidy and the four sergeants were exchanging nervous glances. She watched with interest as Jim’s service record was circulated among the senators, with copies distributed to Lane and her attorneys. A page hurried over to Wendell and the attorney excused himself from the table, leaving the room.

  Cathy looked at Jim, a question in her eyes as to why Bill Wendell had abruptly excused himself. Buck leaned forward.

  “Hey, where’s the doc?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “He wasn’t looking’ too good over the weekend here at the hotel.” Buck brightened, placing a hand on Cathy’s shoulder. “I think he missed you.”

  Cathy smiled, warmed by Arnley’s thoughtfulness. “Maybe Doc had other stuff to attend to. He really doesn’t have to be here. He’s got a family in Maine waiting for him.”

  “Yeah, ’spose you’re right.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Keep your flak jacket and helmet on. Look’s like that bastard Roman is locked and loaded.”

  Senator Roman was riffling through the service record, as if trying to ferret out some unknown clue to Jim’s identity that had so far not been divulged. The feeling pervading the room was one of tension, as if a bolt of lightning had struck, leaving all of them stunned in the aftermath.

  Engrossed by others’ reactions, Cathy sensed more than heard Jim wrap up his statement. Roman hunched forward, reminding Cathy he was a vulture ready to leap on his prey—her. She swallowed convulsively and steeled herself for his attack.

  “Thank you, Captain Boland. I want to get back to Friday’s questioning. Now, Corporal Fremont, after you returned to Delta, you went out on patrol with another squad manned by Sergeant Rogers?”

  Panic drove a wedge into Cathy’s throat. Jim’s hand closed over her own. Instantly, her adrenaline-charged heartb
eat slowed slightly. She pulled the microphone closer to answer the question. Her voice was surprisingly strong and clear, even to herself.

  “Yes, sir. My squad was to lead the way and hers was to follow. We were going to set up an ambush in a known LA area.”

  “And didn’t you, at one point on that patrol, refuse to obey her order to move forward?”

  “I did not.”

  “Sergeant Rogers accused you of it after you returned from that patrol.”

  “She was lying,” Cathy responded tightly. And for the duration of the morning she had to parry a series of concocted lies that Cathy knew had been agreed upon between Lane and the smiling Irene Rogers. Roman suddenly zeroed in on Jim Boland.

  “Captain, we have heard earlier of both your involvement with the corporal and Colonel Mackey’s spy mission. How do you fit into this bizarre and twisted puzzle?” he demanded.

  Jim held Roman’s stare and sat forward. “Would you care to elaborate on your generalization, Senator?” Roman’s head jerked up, indignation written all over his face. Like a lordly lion who had been awakened unexpectedly from his daily nap.

  Roman turned savagely on Boland. Goddamn the Marine officer for daring to usurp his position. How dare he!

  “It appears you were Judas Iscariot to Corporal Fremont, were you not?”

  “At one time, I agreed to Colonel Mackey’s plan, Senator.”

  Roman’s voice rapped out like a sharp report of a rifle. “And when did that all change, Captain? After you took her to bed in Hua Hin while you were conveniently on R & R together? Did you trade your commitment for a roll in the hay?”

  Cathy winced, looking at Jim. His gray eyes were almost colorless, his mouth set.

  “Are you in the business of asking nothing but insulting questions and making your own inane assumptions, Senator? Or are you interested in getting to the truth?” Boland shot back.

  Roman’s hands balled into fists. “You are here to answer any question I pose, Captain. It’s my privilege to interrogate you in the name of my constituents in any way I please.”