by Mel Odom
“Yes, sir. I was in pursuit of the men from that scene.”
“The pursuit was already in hand. We’d coordinated that aspect of the operation through the Jacksonville PD.”
“I understand that, sir. Remy had control of the crime scene. Only one of us was needed.”
“In your opinion, Gunnery Sergeant,” Will said, responding to the military slant Shel was insisting on keeping. “I gave orders for you to stay there.”
“I disobeyed those orders,” Shel said. “I’d appreciate leniency.”
“Do you want to tell me why you left?”
“I didn’t want Victor Gant to get away.”
“One man wasn’t going to make a difference,” Will said.
“Sir, I am a Marine. As a Marine, I’m trained to believe that one man can make a difference. I’m trained to be that man.”
Will leaned back and studied Shel. Max whined a little, obviously distressed over his partner’s emotional state.
And what is that emotional state? Will wasn’t sure. Over the years of their association, he’d seen Shel under all kinds of stress. But he’d never seen the man as he was now.
“I don’t want to argue the validity of Marine training-,” Will began.
“Thank you, sir,” Shel interrupted.
“-but I’m also going to have to finesse this with the Jacksonville PD,” Will went on. “They’re not very happy with you.”
“The feeling is mutual, sir,” Shel said. “They were already mobilized. Catching Victor Gant and his people should have been simple.”
It hadn’t been, though. Victor Gant and his surviving team members had dumped their motorcycles in an alley and fled the city with some other transportation. Even the 18-wheeler they’d used to arrive at the scene had been recovered. The tractor-trailer had been stolen. The long-haul driver had been found dead on the highway nearly an hour from Jacksonville.
“Do you want to tell me about this, gunney?” Will asked.
“About what, sir?”
Will’s irritation deepened. “How Victor Gant got up inside your head.”
“No, sir.”
Will hadn’t been expecting that response. He hadn’t expected a direct answer either. Now that he’d asked the question so directly and gotten such a direct reply, he didn’t know how he was going to move forward.
“What did Gant tell you while you were talking to him?” Will asked.
“He threatened me, sir,” Shel said.
Will thought about that. He’d been through hard and dangerous times with Shel. A threat wasn’t going to ruffle the Marine’s feathers.
“Threatened you?” Will repeated.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m not convinced that’s the reason you left that crime scene.”
“I wasn’t aware I had to convince you in any way regarding my actions, sir.”
“I would like an explanation.”
“I wanted to apprehend Victor Gant, sir. I thought one more car in the search might help. I judged that a better use of my time.”
“Than staying behind to secure the crime scene.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Victor Gant got away.”
“I’m aware of that, sir. I did what I could do.”
Will sighed. “I’m not blaming his escape on you.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“I don’t believe Victor Gant threatening you would be enough to make you disobey an order.”
Shel looked troubled for just a moment. “I don’t know how to get you to believe in my disobedience, sir.”
Frustration chafed at Will. Shel had closed down on him-lock, stock, and barrel-and Will didn’t know why.
“About my punishment, sir,” Shel said.
“I didn’t say there was going to be punishment,” Will replied.
Shel nodded. “I just figured-”
“You figured wrong, gunney,” Will said sharply. “Maybe you need to realize that you’re not the only one who can throw away the playbook when it doesn’t suit you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Will let out a pent-up breath. “The issue at hand is what to do with you.”
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
Thank God, Will thought. “Yes.”
“In addition to myself, Victor Gant also threatened my family. I’ve got some leave coming-”
That was an understatement. Shel was a Marine 24-7. There wasn’t a person on the NCIS team who logged more hours or had more leave coming.
“-and I’d like to use some of it,” Shel went on. “I want to go back home. For a little while.”
“We need you here,” Will said.
Shel was silent for a moment. “I understand, sir. But I think maybe I was too hasty in coming back to full duty. Today, during that fracas, I hurt my shoulder. I think maybe I should rest it.”
“I can put you on a desk for that,” Will pointed out.
“There are plenty of desk jockeys,” Shel replied. “So there shouldn’t be any reason to stand in the way of my request for leave. Sir.”
Will knew he’d been neatly outmaneuvered. He didn’t feel like being civil about it. Nor did he want to let Shel go when he was obviously dealing with harsh circumstances.
The fact of the matter was, though, Will didn’t have a viable reason to deny the request.
“You’ll need to fill out leave papers,” Will said.
Shel reached into a pocket and took out a folded mass of papers. He handed them over.
Will took them and dropped them onto the desk without looking at them.
“Shel,” he said, “I’m your friend.”
“Yes, sir. I’ve always thought of you that way.”
“As your friend, I’m asking you what’s going on.”
For a moment, uncertainty wavered on Shel’s face. “I appreciate that, sir. I do. But I don’t have anything to say that I haven’t already told you.”
Will looked at the dark lenses of Shel’s sunglasses. No answers lurked there. And in the end there was nothing else he could do.
“You’re dismissed, gunney,” Will said.
“Thank you, sir.” Shel fired off a crisp salute. After Will returned it, Shel pivoted a perfect 180 degrees and left the room.
Godspeed, Will thought. Then he offered up a small prayer and asked God to watch over his friend while he was gone. Letting people go when they were determined to walk into the jaws of trouble was always one of the hardest things to do.
38
›› NCIS Offices
›› Camp Lejeune, north carolina
›› 1909 Hours
“Did I just see Shel leave carrying a duffel?” Maggie asked.
“Yeah,” Will said as they walked through the hallway toward the main computer area.
“Where’s he going?”
“Home.”
“Why?” Maggie sounded unbelieving.
“He asked for leave to go home.”
“Why would he want to go home? He never asks for leave.”
“I’m aware of that,” Will said.
“Did he give you a reason?”
“I asked.”
“And?”
“He said he had leave coming. He said he hurt his arm today. He said he felt like going home. He said Victor Gant threatened his family.”
“Do you believe any of that?” Maggie asked.
“Yeah. My answer would be all of the above.”
“No.”
“No?”
“You’re smarter than that.”
“Am I?”
“Shel will always have leave coming,” Maggie said. “If he hurt his arm, Shel would rather cut it off than let you bench him to a desk under a medical restraint.”
Will had to admit that was true.
“Shel is conflicted about going home,” Maggie said.
Since she was the team profiler, Will was certain Maggie knew what she was talking about.
“And if Victor Gant thr
eatened his family,” Maggie went on, “he’d definitely stay with us. We offer the best chance at finding out where Gant is.”
Will nodded. He couldn’t argue the logic. He’d been chasing the same conjecture.
“So what’s changed?” Maggie asked.
“I don’t know. That’s why I thought I’d ask Estrella.”
›› 1919 Hours
“Shel didn’t mention anything to me about going home,” Estrella said. She sat in the ergonomic chair at her station and looked worried. “Usually he tells me everything that’s on his mind.”
“Not everything,” Maggie said. “I don’t think Shel tells anybody everything.” She glanced apologetically at Estrella. “Though he tells you more than most.”
Will looked out over the workroom. Several other NCIS agents were in their cubicles, striving to clear their caseloads.
Estrella looked troubled. “There is one thing that he talked to me about that I haven’t told you.”
That drew Will’s instant attention. “Now would be a good time to discuss that.”
“It doesn’t seem like it connects anywhere.” Estrella turned her attention back to the computer. Her fingers glided across the keyboard in swift syncopation. “Shel asked me to look up his father’s service record.”
“His father was in Vietnam,” Will said.
“I know.”
“Shel doesn’t talk much about his father,” Maggie said.
“No,” Will agreed.
“How did you know he was in Vietnam?”
“Because I know that Shel’s father is a sore point with him. When Shel mentions him, I listen.”
“Have you ever asked him about his father?”
“No,” Will said. “Men try not to do things like that to each other.”
“Right,” Maggie said. “But you’re not just a man. You’re also his commanding officer.”
“I play the counselor role when a man needs me to. But I wait for him to make that decision. I don’t make it for him.” Will stared at the computer screen. “What was Shel looking for concerning his father?”
“I don’t know,” Estrella said. “Not exactly. I know he was interested in finding out if Victor Gant was ever in Qui Nhon.”
“What’s Qui Nhon?” Maggie asked.
“A key port for American forces in the Vietnam War,” Will answered. “A lot of people passed through there.”
“‘A lot of people’ included Tyrel McHenry and Victor Gant,” Estrella said.
Maggie moved in closer as well. “Both of them were there?”
Estrella nodded. “It looks like they were there for a time together.”
“Same unit?” Will asked.
“No. Different units. But both of them were assigned to units that patrolled the roads in and out of Qui Nhon. Those roads were regularly attacked.”
“Because they were major supply lines for the American offensive,” Will said. “They drew a lot of heat. And the PBRs-”
“Sorry,” Maggie broke in, “what are PBRs?”
“It stands for Patrol Boat, River,” Estrella answered. “They were fast-attack watercraft used for attacking North Vietnamese boats and ships and for attacking ground units within striking distances of the rivers.”
“And they were a big threat to the North Vietnamese,” Will finished.
“If Victor Gant and Shel’s father were both there at the same time,” Maggie said, “you have to ask yourself if they knew each other.”
“I think that’s what Shel wanted to know,” Estrella said.
“Did he ask you to find out?” Will asked.
“No. But he did ask me to match up his father’s time there with what we knew about Victor Gant.”
“Does Shel know they were there at the same time?”
“He does.”
“When did you tell him?”
“Shortly after his return to Lejeune.”
“If Shel’s known about that this long,” Maggie said, “why is it so interesting to him?”
“Because Victor Gant threatened Shel’s family,” Will said.
“Do you think it has something to do with what happened back then?” Estrella asked.
“Did you find anything to suggest there’s a link?”
“Other than the fact that Tyrel McHenry and Victor Gant could have known each other, nothing.”
“Even if they did know each other,” Maggie said, “they’d have been, what, twenty or twenty-five years old? Suddenly, forty years later, that’s going to matter?”
Will stared at the photograph of a young Army private. Tyrel McHenry had been little more than a boy, not much older than Steven when he’d been dropped into Vietnam. Thinking back on that war, thinking about the one in Iraq, Will realized again that war often ran on the lives of the young.
“Did you talk to Shel about this?” Will asked.
“A little.”
“Did he give you any idea what he was looking for?”
“No. He just asked about the time frames.”
Will considered that. “As I think back on it, until today Shel hasn’t had any contact with Gant. Anybody remember it any differently?”
Maggie and Estrella answered negatively.
“But if Shel asked about the time frames while he was in Charleston,” Will said, “someone had to have told him. And only two people would have known whether Tyrel McHenry and Victor Gant knew each other.”
“I talked to Don,” Maggie said. “Shel was agitated one day. He didn’t talk much. I asked Don about it, and he said that they’d gotten a phone call from their father in the middle of the night.”
Will turned that over in his mind. Although he hadn’t said anything when Shel’s father didn’t put in an appearance at the hospital after Shel was so grievously wounded, he’d wondered.
“What was the phone call about?” Will asked.
Maggie shook her head. “Don didn’t know. But he said ever since he’d gotten the call from his father, Shel had been agitated.”
“I didn’t notice it.”
“You,” Maggie said, “had your hands full dealing with getting Bobby Lee Gant’s body back here and leading the investigation there.”
Will took in a breath and let it out. He had been busy. He was still busy. But he got the distinct feeling that Shel McHenry was taking a long stride toward trouble.
Maybe big trouble.
“How much time have you spent on these files?” Will asked.
Estrella shook her head. “Not much. Shel only wanted me to confirm any overlap. I did that.”
“We need more.” Will rubbed his tired eyes. “Prioritize this and dig into it like it was an ongoing investigation.”
“All right.”
“But keep it quiet.”
Estrella nodded. “How quiet?”
“If Shel calls and asks, don’t tell him we’ve got an interest in it.”
A troubled look twisted Estrella’s features. “I don’t like doing that.”
“I know. Neither do I. But whatever’s inside pushing Shel has got him in a death grip. If he finds out we’re digging into his turf, he’s not going to handle it well. I don’t want his distraction with what we’re doing to get him killed. Victor Gant tried to kill him today. I don’t think he’s finished.”
“Understood.”
“Good.” Will nodded at the file Estrella had open on her computer. “Send me whatever pertinent data you’ve turned up. I want to take a look at it.”
“All right,” Estrella replied.
“Maggie,” Will continued, “maybe you should background the people involved in this.”
“I will,” Maggie responded.
“Good. As soon as you get everything together, let me know.”
›› 2038 Hours
The phone rang while Will was working on the paperwork from the previous night’s homicide. He was running on fumes and he knew it. He lifted the handset and answered.
“Commander,” a gruff voice with a he
avy accent said, “this is Sheriff Dale Conover. I got a message says you called me.”
“I did,” Will said. “Thanks for getting back to me. I’ve got an agent who lives outside of Fort Davis.”
“Shelton McHenry. Tyrel’s boy.”
It seemed funny that anyone would call Shel somebody’s boy. Will grinned a little at that but tried to keep it out of his voice.
“That’s right,” Will said. “Do you know Shel?”
“A little.” A hint of a smile crept into the sheriff’s voice. “When Shel was a pup, he didn’t exactly go along to get along. He liked fast cars, faster motorcycles, and fighting.”
That surprised Will.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Conover said. “Shelton was a good boy. Just had some waywardness in him. Came by it honest. Tyrel McHenry has always been known to throw a saddle across a wild bronc, and he never walked away from a fight. But I suppose the Marine Corps gentled Shelton down some. I heard from his brother, Don, that Shelton’s doing good for himself.”
“He is,” Will replied. “Shel’s one of the finest men I know.”
“Well then, what can I do for you, Commander?” Conover asked.
“We’ve had some trouble here,” Will said. “There’s a biker gang called the Purple Royals.”
“I’ve heard of ’em,” Conover said. “Bunch of outlaws and one percenters.”
“That’s right. They’re led by a man named Victor Gant. Does that name mean anything to you?”
“Nope. Should it?”
Will hesitated, then decided he had no choice about proceeding if he wanted to help Shel and his family. “I think there’s some history between Victor Gant and Tyrel McHenry.”
“Well, I don’t know where you’re getting your information from, Commander, and I wouldn’t be one to tell you your business, but I got to tell you that I don’t see how that could be. Tyrel McHenry won’t ever win no awards for being the friendliest man in these parts, but he’s one of the most law-abiding I know of. He wouldn’t have nothing to do with the likes of the Purple Royals.”
Will leaned back in his chair. “Shel’s coming home for some leave.”
“Don’t see what you need me to do, Commander. If you need something, you’re gonna have to just up and ask.”
“Victor Gant had a son who was guilty of attacking a Marine,” Will said. “Shel went to arrest him. The bust went south, and Shel ended up killing the son. Shel nearly got killed doing it.”
