by Lauren Carr
The clatter of dress shoes on the hardwood floor in the corridor warned Murphy of the approach of a group of six Officer in the United States Mariness. Brushing his thumb across the “end” button, he hung up without leaving a message.
Once again, he shifted his position on the wooden bench and wished they were cushioned. He surmised they were uncomfortable on purpose. It was the military version of the hot seat. Directly outside the Joint Chiefs’ chambers, it was a given that anyone sitting on the bench was waiting to be called to the carpet by the highest ranking officials of the United States military.
Talking among themselves, the marines filed into the offices down from the formal chamber. Their quick glances in his direction reminded him of how school children would behave upon spotting a classmate sitting outside the principal’s office.
Curiosity. Amusement. Pity. They may have been grown up and working in the distinguished halls of the Pentagon, but the attitudes remained the same.
The more things change, the more they remain the same. Naval Academy graduate. Officer. Phantom. And I’m still getting time outs.
Alone, Murphy made one last check of his uniform to make sure everything was in order. No wrinkles. The crease in his pants was straight. No dog hair on his legs or sleeves. His white shoes were shiny. No scuff marks.
The elevator doors at the end of the hall opened again. Admiral Clarence Patterson and the Chief of Naval Operations stepped off. Jumping up off the bench, Murphy stood at attention and raised his right hand in a salute.
Without slowing down, the same admiral who had only two days before pinned the Bronze Star to Murphy’s chest and called Jessica charming, barely slowed down to return Murphy’s salute, as did the admiral who served as Chief of Naval Operations.
“Good morning, sirs,” Murphy said after bringing his right arm back down to his side.
They did not even offer a polite nod to acknowledge Murphy’s presence before going into the chamber.
With a quick glance at the time on his cell phone, Murphy noted that it was seven minutes before nine o’clock.
I’m so screwed. Time to say good-bye to the Phantoms.
The Phantoms were hand-picked. It was not a position on a team that anyone knew about—therefore it was not something that a military cadet could strive for like the SEALS.
Comprised of the best of the best from every branch of the military, defense, and law enforcement agency in the government, the Phantoms worked with the top equipment and received the best training. Their sole mission was to protect the United States and its citizens without the influence and intimidation of politicians and deal makers with their own personal and political agendas.
Being the best physically and intellectually was a given to be a candidate for the Phantom team—but that was second to integrity and character. Each chief of staff in the military had seen too many lives lost due to appointed or elected leaders in the government whose lack of character and integrity directly resulted in their making poor decisions for the sole purpose of covering up their own moral flaws.
The Phantoms worked completely off the grid. They only knew and met each other during operations or training. The unit was so covert that he had a special untraceable phone that he received and made calls on which went directly to his commanding officer, whose name he did not know.
When circumstances required her to provide a name as Murphy or another Phantom’s commanding officer, she would introduce herself as “Captain Diana King.” It was an official covert alias, complete with a fictionalized background.
Murphy simply referred to her as “CO.” Because she hid her hair under hats or scarves and her eyes behind sun glasses, he was uncertain what she looked like. All he ever saw of her was her fabulous legs. Her sultry voice was unmistakable.
Being personally recruited by Admiral Clarence Patterson to become a Phantom was a huge honor. It was also a risk. Murphy understood going in that if he was ever caught overseas or domestically while working under the radar for the Joint Chiefs of Staff, it would compromise the whole unit. The Joint Chiefs would deny any connection to him. Most likely, he would end up being arrested … or executed.
But it was a risk Murphy was willing to take to protect his country.
Now, not only was his position of Phantom at stake, but so was his whole military career.
The edge of the wooden bench was digging across the back of his thighs. Shifting again, Murphy checked the time on his phone. It was eighteen minutes after nine o’clock.
“Lieutenant Thornton. They’re ready to see you now.”
Murphy jumped in his seat. He had not noticed the door to the chamber open. A female lieutenant in the dress white uniform was holding one of the double doors open for him. He stood up and made one last check of his uniform. His hat in his hand, he marched into the Joint Chiefs of Staff chamber. Once he was inside, the lieutenant closed the door, with herself out in the hallway.
The meeting chamber was dimly lit. The tall windows at one end of the room provided a view of the Washington Monument on the other side of the Potomac River. Murphy’s footsteps clapped the hardwood floor when he made his way to a single straight-backed chair resting in the middle of the vacant floor—waiting for him.
The chair was facing the long curved table on a raised stage at the other side of the chamber where each chief of staff for every branch of the American military waited for him—all seven members. There were desk lamps in front of each of them.
A second row of tables with chairs at which the chiefs’ assistants would sit, ready to look up information or run to and fro if needed, was empty. The assistants were excluded from this meeting because they would be discussing Phantom business. Even the Joint Chiefs’ assistants had no knowledge about the covert unit.
Off to one side, Murphy’s commanding officer sat next to a table, one long leg crossed over the other. Even still, she concealed her eyes behind dark sun glasses. Bernie stood against the wall directly behind her.
The only ones included in the meeting was the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Phantoms’ commanding officer, Bernie, and Murphy himself.
Stepping over to stand in front of the chair, Murphy stood at attention and raised his hand in a salute. “Lieutenant Murphy Thornton, United States Navy, reporting as ordered, sirs. and ma’am.”
Sitting near middle of the half-circle, Admiral Clarence Patterson returned the salute. “At ease, Lieutenant.”
Murphy stood at parade rest with his hands folded behind his back. The only sound in the chamber was the rustle of papers and the murmur of low voices while the chiefs seemed to compare notes.
Staring straight ahead, he waited while each of the chiefs put on his or her reading glasses and referred to reports in front of them. Murphy assumed it was the statement that he had written up and emailed to his commanding officer in the middle of the night.
In her early sixties, the chair of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Maxine Raleigh, USAF, Max to her friends, had an attractive face and long white hair that she wore in a French twist. Murphy was aware of her peering at him with her eyes narrowed while Admiral Patterson whispered to her. He was unsure if she was squinting at him with disgust or because she could not see him clearly beyond the glare from the light of the desk lamps.
While the silence stretched on, Murphy was grateful for the years that he had been practicing yoga, which entailed him remaining in one position for long periods of time. While the seven chiefs were conferring, he was standing up straight with his feet at shoulder width with his hands clasped behind his back. Most men would have started to get leg cramps by the time the air force general cleared her throat and checked around the table. Wordlessly, she asked if they were ready to begin.
“Lieutenant Murphy Thornton, thank you for coming,” she said.
“Pleasure to be here, ma’am,” Murphy replied.
General R
aleigh responded with silence. She put on her reading glasses and referred to the report before saying, “We have read the statement that you sent to your commanding officer last night about the incident at Starbucks, located at the Seven Corners Shopping Center in Falls Church, Virginia. Would you care to summarize what happened for us now in your own words, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Murphy replied. “During the course of a murder investigation that I was leading for the Naval Criminal Investigation Staff, we discovered a potential witness, Ms. Emily Dolan, who had entered and left the crime scene of the murders of five women in Reston, Virginia, shortly after the murders had occurred. Two members of my team were keeping Dolan under surveillance because we believed that she had information important to our investigation. We also feared that, if her identity was known to the perpetrator, her life could be in danger.”
General Raleigh interrupted, “If you thought Dolan’s life could be in danger, why did you not bring her in?”
“Because Dolan was a civilian, ma’am. As an investigator with the military, my authority is limited,” Murphy said. “She wrote an anti-military and anti-law enforcement blog. It was clear that she had a lack of trust and heavy dislike for both the military and law enforcement. It was a calculated decision on my part to wait until we could get more evidence to use as leverage to get her to willingly cooperate with us. In the meantime, I assigned agents to keep her under protective surveillance. ”
“Obviously you failed, Lieutenant,” General Raleigh said in a blunt tone. “Ms. Dolan is dead. Care to explain to our staff how that happened if you were watching her?”
“Certainly, ma’am and sirs.” Murphy swallowed. “During the course of our investigation it came to our attention that one of the victims in the Reston murders had a sister who had been killed on the Pennsylvania Turnpike several years ago.”
Adjusting his reading glasses, Admiral Patterson referred to his copy of Murphy’s statement. “That’s not in your report.”
“The identity of the sister was only confirmed this morning, sir,” Murphy said. “Yesterday, we received an unofficial identification from the homicide detective investigating that case. This morning, the detective texted me that DNA comparison has identified the Jane Doe as Army Specialist Cecelia Crenshaw, sister to Petty Officer Crenshaw. Last evening, the detective requested my assistance in questioning Dolan to determine if the two murders could be connected. I agreed to go with her.”
“Are these two cases connected, Lieutenant?” General Raleigh asked.
“I am sorry to say we can’t be sure of that at this time,” Murphy replied. “A hit squad entered the establishment and killed Dolan before the homicide detective had a chance to question her.”
General Raleigh put on her reading glasses and referred to her report. “Where were you when the hit squad entered Starbucks, Lieutenant?”
“I was in the parking lot, ma’am,” Murphy answered. “It had come to my attention that Ms. Dolan had been tailing me during her hours off work. Therefore, she knew me. So, I stayed out of sight in the parking lot while monitoring the situation via audio communications. When I saw the hit squad approaching, I called the two NCIS team members stationed inside to warn them and ordered that they protect Dolan and the civilians on the scene.”
“You order them to protect Dolan, who hates the military?” General Raleigh replied with doubt.
“Her feelings toward the military were irrelevant to me, ma’am,” Murphy said. “She was an American citizen and I took an oath to protect my country and her citizens. Nowhere in that oath does it make reference to protecting only those citizens with my same worldview.”
“But she is now dead,” General Raleigh said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“If it is your job to protect our country and its citizens, Lieutenant,” General Raleigh’s voice rose, “how it is that Dolan, the only lead you had in this murder case, ended up dead? You said you were in the parking lot. Where were you while this hit squad was gunning down your only witness?”
“I came in directly behind the hit squad, ma’am.”
“But you failed to save Dolan and two members of that hit squad escaped.”
“That is correct, ma’am,” Murphy said. “Two members of the hit squad escaped and I failed to save Emily Dolan.”
General Raleigh smirked at the other members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. They each looked at each other. The Joint Chief of Staff’s chair shook her head. “And you call yourself a Phantom, Lieutenant.”
“We did—”
“You are a disgrace to the Phantoms, Lieutenant,” General Raleigh said in a loud voice.
“I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“Not only are you a disgrace to the Phantoms, Lieutenant,” the chair roared, “but you are a disgrace to that uniform, the United States Navy, and the United States military and the United States of America. You knew that an American citizen was in danger, but you didn’t warn her.”
“She—”
The chair waved her reading glasses in Murphy’s direction. “And you know why you didn’t warn her?”
“Be-because—” Murphy found that he was stuttering.
“Because that woman—that woman who hated the military and the police—scared you!”
“No,” Murphy objected in a quiet voice.
“You are a coward, Lieutenant! This garbage about you not having the authority to question her and to bring her in is nothing but a bunch of crap. You are a Phantom! You were selected to be a Phantom because you’re supposed to be smart enough and cunning enough and have the integrity and courage to go up against anyone, no matter what their beliefs or agendas to get what needs to be done done—and yet, the first time you run up against a girl who doesn’t like you—you run and hide even though you know that she is in danger of being killed. Well, guess what, Lieutenant—you’re fear of this little girl—this American citizen—got her assassinated!”
Rising out of her seat, General Raleigh pointed her finger directly at Murphy. “You, Lieutenant Murphy Thornton, are a coward! Because of your cowardice, Ms. Dolan, an America citizen you swore to protect is now dead! You are a disgrace to the Phantoms, your uniform, and your country!”
Adverting his eyes from the raging general, Murphy swallowed. Bile from his breakfast was threatening to come up. During the tirade, his commanding officer was checking what appeared to be a chipped fingernail. He sucked in a deep breath and swallowed again.
“The Joint Chiefs of Staff will go over your statement and the evidence that you have collected on this case,” General Raleigh said. “But we can tell you right now that you are not worthy of being a Phantom. After our review of this case, we will determine if you are even worthy of being an officer in the United States Navy. In the meantime, I want you out of my sight! You are dismissed, Lieutenant Thornton.”
Dropping back into her seat, General Raleigh tossed her reading glasses down onto the table and glowered at Murphy.
Silence dropped over the chamber. All eyes were on Murphy, waiting for the young lieutenant to slink out of the chamber with his tail between his legs.
Dropping his hands to his side, Murphy turned toward the door. Then, standing up straight, he turned back to the row of distinguished officers lined up before him. What have I got to lose? Nothing more, really. “Permission to speak, ma’am, sirs?”
“Do you have something to say, Lieutenant?” Admiral Patterson asked.
“Yes, sirs, ma’am.”
“Then say it.”
“With all due respect, ma’am, I disagree with your assessment, Madam Chair,” Murphy said.
A gasp went throughout the room. General Raleigh sat up straight in her seat. “Really, Lieutenant Thornton?”
“Really, ma’am,” Murphy replied. “Yes, things did go badly last night. A hit squad came in. I saw them coming. Out of everyone e
lse that was there, including my two team members inside, I was the only one who spotted them for what they were. I had only seconds to warn my team and to get inside that coffee shop to help save everyone that we could and we did it. Things would have gone much worse—most of those civilians and possibly my own team would have perished if I had not acted with what little time I had to do so. Yes, one civilian, our witness did die, but everyone else—witnesses that the hit squad clearly intended to eliminate—survived. Plus, we took out two presumably professional assassins and an accomplice attempting to steal possible evidence that Dolan possessed. Through those three men, we hope to be able to find out who had hired them and who is behind these murders. Saving the lives of innocent bystanders and taking out three assailants sounds like a win to me and if you disagree with that assessment, then I suggest you talk to those civilians we did save last night and their families.”
Stunned, the Joint Chiefs turned to the chair, who asked in a tone devoid of emotion. “Do you have anything else to say, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, I’ve made mistakes,” Murphy said. “Everyone makes mistakes. But when I make a mistake, I’m man enough to step up to the plate and take responsibility for it. Maybe I should have brought in that witness sooner. But it wasn’t cowardice that kept me from doing it. It was a calculated risk based on her attitude toward the military—the type of decisions that officers have to make every day. I’m a good navy officer. As a matter of fact, I’m an exceptional naval officer. All the way through my career as a cadet and active member of the military, I have made the best decisions that I know how to make and if that isn’t good enough for you or the Phantoms, then so be it.
“But I will tell you this,” Murphy said, “I was chosen to be a Phantom because of my character and my integrity. You told me when you recruited me that it was a quality that you were looking for in the Phantoms. Kick me out of the Phantoms and you will find those assets to be a curse as well, because I can tell you right now that there is nothing you can do in heaven and earth that will get me off of this case. I made a promise to a young girl to find out who killed her mother, and I intend to keep that promise either as a navy officer or a Phantom or just as an American citizen whose character won’t let him walk away from finding out what’s going on in our United States Army that brought about the deaths of seven women and one police officer.”
