by Scott Blade
He mumbled something underneath my hand.
I said, “I can’t hear you. In fact, I don’t want to hear you.”
He stopped mumbling and stared at me. I could see the fear in his eyes. You can’t fake that, not so easily. He was definitely a real lackey, which meant that he really was just here to babysit these guys.
I said, “I gave you a chance already.”
He didn’t murmur anything back.
I said, “Would you like one more? And before you answer. I’m going to explain the situation. Got it?”
No response.
I said, “Nod if you understand.”
He nodded. His feet were off the ground.
“New evidence has come up. Turik didn’t kill those Marines.”
He murmured again.
“Shut up!”
He stopped.
I said, “I don’t care why you’re here. I don’t care about you. I don’t care what the White house wants the story to be. I don’t even really care what you guys tell the public.”
He was watching me.
“What I care about is that Turik didn’t kill those guys. What I care about is eight dead people. What I care about is a good woman and her son. What I care about is finding an innocent wife.”
He nodded.
I said, “You read my file. I’m sure that as soon as you saw that Romey had interrogated a person of interest, you checked me out. Is that right?”
He nodded.
I said, “Good. Then you probably saw a bunch of top secret clearances and redacted information?”
He nodded.
“That means that I’m not a very nice person to have as an enemy. I gotta tell you something else.”
He stayed still.
“The thing that I’m most eager about is getting the guys who framed Turik. You can understand that, right?”
He nodded again.
“You can say that I’ve got some pent-up anger. You want me to take that out on you?”
He shook his head.
I said, “Good. I want you to make this meeting happen. Got it?”
I uncovered his mouth and he said, “I got it.”
“Good.”
I put him down.
Romey came walking back from behind me. She said, “You know what?”
No one answered.
“I didn’t need anything from my car after all. Did I miss anything?”
I said, “Eastman has been kind enough to help us chat with his asset.”
She said, “That’s great. Thank you for seeing it our way.”
Eastman said, “You got it. I just want to help.”
I reached out and Eastman jumped back. I said, “I’m just fixing your shirt.” Which I did.
“Thanks.”
Eastman turned, walked dawdling back to the door like he was contemplating whether he should call out to the agents. In the end, he decided against it. He knocked on it.
The Irish agent opened and said, “Yer both still here, love.”
Romey said, “Don’t call me that. Last warning.”
Eastman said, “Let them in.”
The agent looked at Eastman and then at me. He said, “You look a little under duress. Everything okay?”
Romey said, “Just let us in.”
The Irish agent ignored her and said to Eastman, “You don’t call the shots here. I’m going to have to ask you all to leave.”
Just then, the man who had been smoking a cigar rose from his chair and stood up. He looked back at us. He said, “Let them in. Raymond.”
Raymond said nothing to that. He stared at me for a long second, like a pit bull.
Romey didn’t wait for him to open the door. She pushed through, past me, past Eastman. I pushed past Eastman and followed behind her.
I stopped in the kitchen, looked around. The setup was nice, for a military dorm. It looked more like a five-star hotel, not that I knew how to distinguish a five-star hotel from a four.
The kitchen had all new appliances, double oven, and a gas stovetop. The fridge was big, double doors. It was stainless steel and tucked neatly into the wall. White tile backsplash with a big farmer’s sink jumped out at me next. All the counters were clean. The only thing the kitchen was missing was an island.
The other agent was still leaning on the back counter with his right hand tucked behind his back. I looked at him and said, “You can take your hand off your gun.”
He looked at me just as ferociously as Raymond had.
The man who seemed to be in charge said, “Do it, Connell.”
Connell listened and moved his hand from out of sight to the front. He left it down by his thigh, in plain sight.
The man in charge said, “My name is Malory. Shaun Malory.”
The name didn’t mean anything to me. I didn’t recognize the guy by face. I didn’t recognize him by name, but Romey had a different reaction.
CHAPTER 39
ROMEY LOOKED CLOSELY at Malory. She walked to the center of the dorm room and stared at him. She said, “You’re the British admiral for the navy.”
Malory said, “Well, First Sea Lord is the official title, but I haven’t had that job in nearly a decade.”
I said, “Really? You’re the highest military official in the UK?”
Malory looked at me, reached up and puffed his cigar. He said, “Again, I don’t have that title anymore.”
Eastman interrupted us in a way that made him seem like he was desperately trying to make himself known, borderline overcompensation. He said, “Now, he’s the Deputy Prime Minister.”
I looked at Malory and said, “You’re not the Deputy Prime Minister. That’s a woman right now.”
Malory said, “It’s not official, but I will be. The Prime Minister is stepping down and the current Deputy is expected to move up. Of course, with our politics, you never know.”
I said, “I thought the current Prime Minister was popular?”
“Shows that you pay little attention to England, Mr. Widow.”
No one said a word, but I was sure that Romey had noticed that Malory knew my name. Which caught me by surprise as well. I said, “I’m surprised that the First Sea Lord would know my name.”
Malory said, “Former. Again, I’m no longer the First Sea Lord.”
“In our country, prominent people retain their titles. Even if it is a formality.”
Malory said, “As they do in the U.K. as well. So Mr. Widow, how can I help you?”
I looked at Romey and then back at Malory. I said, “I think that you know.”
Malory didn’t speak, but Eastman said, “You’ll have to be more specific.”
Again, he seemed to interrupt even though he must’ve known that he wasn’t invited to speak.
Malory said, “Shut up!”
Eastman looked like someone had crushed his ego, but he didn’t respond. Malory looked at me and said, “I’m afraid he’s right. You will need to be more specific.”
I glanced at Romey, who was staring at Malory, and part of me thought that she was watching the cigar, fighting back the urge to tell him that there was no smoking allowed in the building. I was fairly certain that smoking wasn’t allowed nearly anywhere on base except in designated areas.
I said, “What is Good Measure?”
Malory puffed on his cigar and exhaled smoke in Eastman’s direction. He looked at Romey and he must’ve seen the same angst in her eyes as I had because he said, “Please forgive the cigar, Ms. Romey.”
She nodded.
Malory looked at me and said, “Mr. Widow, why don’t we talk somewhere else.”
Romey said, “I’m coming too.”
This seemed to be against what Malory intended and he looked at Eastman.
Eastman said, “If she goes, then I go.”
I said to Romey, “Stay here. Let me talk with him alone. Don’t worry.”
She didn’t react how I had thought. I was afraid that she’d see it as a move to exclude her because
she was a woman. In many ways, the old male politics of the U.K. was alive and well.
She didn’t react that way. She knew that I’d tell her anything that was relevant anyway. She said, “Fine. But I’m not waiting up here. Too much musk.”
I nodded.
Malory said, “Raymond, grab my coat. Meet us by the lift.”
Raymond didn’t answer back, but he did hop to it.
I said, “Good service.” I had directed it at the Irish agent and he took note of it. He shot me an evil look, but held his tongue.
Raymond went to a closet and grabbed Malory’s coat and his own.
I followed Romey and Malory out to the elevator.
Romey said, “I’ll be at the car.”
I nodded and watched her press the elevator button. We all stood there in silence until the doors opened.
Malory said, “It was good to finally meet you, Ms. Romey. Farewell.”
Romey nodded and got on the elevator.
Malory said, “Let’s take the stairs.”
“Where we going?”
“The roof.”
Raymond came out with Malory’s coat and held it open like a butler. Malory slipped one arm into a sleeve, followed by the other.
The three of us walked out to the stairwell and up to the roof.
CHAPTER 40
THE HARRITON DORM was only around three stories, but the ceilings were high and the roof was technically the fourth floor, and the base was devoid of trees. Except for only a few other tall buildings, I could see most of the base from the roof.
I didn’t know how many acres Arrow’s Peak Marine Base was on, but I guessed that I could see at least most of the occupied portion.
To the east, I saw the runway and several plane hangars, which I assumed to be empty. But I couldn’t be sure. There were two helicopter pads. One had a Bell-manufactured AH-1 SeaCobra attack helicopter parked on it. I assumed it was a training model. I couldn’t see close enough to be sure, but it appeared to have its side-mounted cannons removed.
The roof was a large, open space. Except for the entrance to the stairwell, there was nothing else up there, but several rows of air-conditioning and heater units. Some of them whirred and droned, and others were hushed and stagnant.
Malory walked over to one ledge and leaned over the cement barrier. He looked over the side. He pulled his cigar up to his lips and realized that it was burnt out or the wind had blown it out. He clenched his lips around it and felt around his pockets.
He gazed at Raymond, who pulled a gold Zippo out of his pocket and tossed it to Malory.
At first, I was sure that Raymond was going to light it for him, but he didn’t.
Malory lit his cigar, puffed on it twice to make sure that it was lit, and slid the Zippo into his coat pocket.
He said, “Mr. Widow, what are you here for? I was told that you had left.”
I looked at Raymond.
The agent moved away from us and stood about ten feet behind me.
Malory said, “Check out the view from here.”
I moved closer, stood next to him at the ledge. We both looked around the distant tree line, the mountain peaks, and the gray sky. I looked down to the street below, saw Romey sitting on the hood of the Mustang. She was on her phone.
Malory didn’t repeat his question, instead he pointed at the gate. He said, “Look at them.”
I looked.
He said, “Your American press is virtually unmatched in the entire world. You know that?”
“Virtually?”
He puffed again and looked at me. He said, “Ours is better.”
“Better? Your media covers what gown the queen is going to wear to a party. They talk about Prince Whoever is sleeping with What’s Her Face.”
“That’s true, but so does yours.”
I stayed quiet.
Malory said, “What’s your angle here, Widow?”
“My angle?”
“Yeah, what do you want?”
“The truth.”
Malory paused and said, “The truth is complicated.”
“What’re you doing here?”
He didn’t answer.
I said, “Why did you come here the same day that Turik and Carl were murdered?”
“Turik wasn’t murdered.”
“You’re right, and you’re wrong.”
“How’s that? Turik killed himself.”
I said, “What do you think happened?”
“Turik went crazy and killed my friend.”
I didn’t respond.
“I’m here to bury my dear friend. General Carl and I went back a long way. And Turik murdered him. Now, I’m here to bury him.”
I said, “Turik didn’t kill anybody.”
CHAPTER 41
I ASKED, “What is Operation Good Measure?”
Malory didn’t respond to that either.
I said, “Turik is innocent. We found evidence. Turik was coerced into cooperating. It looks like he may not even have known what for until it was too late.”
“How do you know this?”
“The evidence is overwhelming. Plus, we have a video.”
“A video?”
“It’s him. He’s saying to look into Good Measure.”
Malory looked away.
I said, “Which I assumed was a mission. Some kind of black ops mission.”
He stayed quiet.
I said, “Only Romey couldn’t find a mission with that name. And she’s pretty good.”
I stepped away from the ledge and turned my back to Raymond. Then I said, “But she didn’t find anything even with those two words.”
I glanced back at Raymond. He was in the same position, staring at us.
Malory looked at him and said, “Leave us.”
Raymond said, “Sir?”
“Just go wait in the stairwell.”
Raymond said, “Sir, I can’t.”
“Do it! Go!”
Raymond looked at me and then nodded. I watched him go back to the stairwell.
I said, “You knew my name like you had learned something about me. I assume that Eastman looked me up and shared my records with you?”
“He told me about you.”
“Did he tell you everything?”
“He told me enough.”
I asked, “The State Department sent you with a babysitter. They didn’t have much time to prepare, which means that you came here abruptly. Therefore, you’re telling the truth about Carl being your friend. He was killed and you came here immediately. The problem is that England is a long flight. So how the hell did you get here so quick?”
“I was already on my way. I arrived yesterday in California.”
“What the hell were you doing here?”
He said, “Carl asked me to come.”
“Why did he ask you to come?”
“He said that he was afraid of someone. He said that someone knew what we had done.”
I asked, “What did you do?”
CHAPTER 42
SHAUN MALORY WAS STARING over the side of the building again.
At first, I thought that he was stuck in a trance and then I realized that he was actually thinking of jumping.
I said, “Hey.”
He looked back at me.
I said, “A woman’s life is on the line. Whatever you did, it’s just us here. No one else.”
“Just us?”
“I’m not with the military police.”
“You’re wearing a badge.”
“It’s not a badge. It’s more like a visitor pass. Besides, I couldn’t arrest you anyway. You’re not American.”
He said, “Did you see the TV?”
“No.”
“Your President went on TV and called Turik a terrorist. Said that he murdered those people in cold blood. Murdered my friend. Killed himself. Now, you’re telling me he’s innocent.”
“Seems like you already knew that.”
He didn’t respond to that
.
I said, “Tell me, why did Carl call you here?”
Malory took another puff of his cigar and said, “Good Measure isn’t what Turik said.”
“I heard him. It’s what he said.”
“No. It couldn’t have been.”
I stayed quiet.
Malory said, “Turik said God Measure not Good Measure.”
He puffed a long series of puffs from his cigar and stared at the view. He said, “Operation God Measure was an off-the-books mission. British Special Forces. That’s what I was back then.”
“When?”
“It was twenty years ago. In Syria.”
“What the hell were we doing there?”
“This was long before the civil war and all. And we weren’t there. Not technically.”
I moved back beside him on the wall.
Malory said, “The Iraq War was on everyone’s TV sets and my country had competing interests in the Middle East.”
“With whom?”
“With everyone else. Even with you.”
“Not me.”
“The United States.”
I nodded.
He said, “The war was over, and the rest of us, that is, our populations, didn’t want to hear about the Middle East again.”
I said, “Skip the history lesson. Tell me about God Measure.”
Mallory scratched his ear and said, “Carl and I were friends for a long time. He was a captain back then. I was an intelligence officer.”
“MI5?”
He nodded.
“Twenty years ago, we were operating in Jordan. There was a militant group called Jeme alha-Tawhid Jihad. Which means State of Religion and Jihad.”
I shook my head and said, “No it doesn’t. Its translation is the Organization of Monotheism and Jihad, not State. That came with ISIS. And it’s pronounced Jama'at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad.”
“You know of it?”
I shook my head and said, “Only that it’s the origin of ISIS. We’ve been fighting in the Middle East for more than three decades. Every SEAL knows about ISIS, some more than others, but in general we all understand it.”
“Do you know the details?”
