“My leg feels fine,” Jill replied, looking down. “It’s kind of pasty looking under the nylons, but my muscle tone didn’t suffer. They may have been right about giving up professional dancing; but they were wrong about the limp. What a relief to have the cast off.”
“I’ll bet.”
Jill took his arm, and pulled him forward. “C’mon, or Dad will be coming to get us.”
“After the way he handled the SDPD, I’d like to avoid that.”
Jill laughed, drawing him out of the entryway, and into a huge sunken living room. A slightly overweight man, six feet in height, with tanned complexion, groomed gray hair, wearing a dark pin stripped suit, stood up with a genuine smile of greeting. Behind him, an older, shorter haired replica of Jill stood at his right, with her arm through his. Jill’s Mother was dressed in a maroon evening dress, and her smile appeared to Peace a little forced.
“Mom, Dad, this is Paul Elvin Peacenik,” Jill said, smiling impishly at Peace. “Everyone just calls him Peace. Peace, this is my Mom,
Ellie, and my Father, Don.”
Peace smilingly shook hands with first, Mrs. Gregory, and then
Mr. Gregory. “Pleased to meet you both.”
“Jill has told us so much about you, it’s almost like we’ve known you for years. Please call me Don,” Jill’s Father said.
“And call me Ellie,” Jill’s Mom added brightly. “I heard the story behind your unusual name, ah…”
“Peace, Ma’am, you can call me Peace if you like.”
“Very well, Peace,” Mrs. Gregory agreed. “Do you have any idea what your real last name is, I mean was, before your Father changed it?” “Mom, I don’t…” Jill began.
“It’s okay, Jill,” Peace laughed. “I’m used to answering questions about my name. My Father had a falling out with my Grandparents over his avoiding the draft during the Vietnam War. When he fled to Canada with my Mom, he changed his name. He never reconciled with his parents, and when I asked, he told me they had passed away. He refused to tell me what his last name had been, and I honored his request not to find out. My
Mom’s maiden name was Fredrickson.”
“Jill tells us you had a falling out with them,” Mr. Gregory added.
“In a way, Sir. They didn’t want me to become a Seal, and when I did, they wanted nothing more to do with me. As Jill probably also explained, I have people I think of as family I’m very close to.”
“Ever thought about changing your name the way your Father did before you?” Mrs. Gregory asked hesitantly.
“I sure have,” Peace admitted, “but name changes, while in the midst of a military career, are something not done in the service. Besides, it’s a great conversation piece.”
Jill, and her parents, laughed appreciatively.
“Sit down, and tell us how things are going with this police investigation,” Mr. Gregory said, gesturing towards the couch. “I know about their abuse of you in the interrogation. You should have had Jill call me. We would have owned San Diego.”
Jill pulled Peace down next to her on the couch, while her parents sat on the couch opposing it in the sunken living room. Jill gripped his left hand in both of hers on her lap.
“I appreciate that, Sir, but it would not be something I want to pursue. I was more worried they would hound Jill.”
“Not likely,” Mr. Gregory stated. “How much danger is there from this man Batiste?”
Peace was silent for a moment. “Possibly a lot, Sir,” he admitted. “I am trying to find out how dangerous right now. Our JAG office is investigating a number of details which appear out of place on Batiste.”
“Enough danger so I should hire a body guard for Jill?”
“Can I get back to you on that in a week?”
“As long as it’s not too late,” Mr. Gregory answered seriously.
“You have my word it will not be,” Peace pledged.
Mr. Gregory nodded. “Very well. I trust your judgment on this.”
“I understand you have a Master’s Degree in computer engineering from Cal Berkley,” Mrs. Gregory changed the subject. “You have an earning potential in the six figure range easily. I can’t understand why you…”
“I’m a Navy Seal, Ma’am,” Peace interrupted. “I will be a Navy Seal until I can no longer be one. I realize how goofy that sounds to a civilian, but I can’t explain how it feels to make a difference on so personal a level. I met Jill because I was a Seal, and frankly, she means more to me than my life.”
Peace had been reaching into his suit coat pocket as he spoke, and was turning towards Jill with a small square box, which he flipped open. “I want you to be my wife, Jill. I love you.”
Three harsh intakes of air could be heard as Peace’s simple proposal stunned Jill’s parents, and drew Jill sobbing into his arms, past his outstretched hand and ring.
“Oh yes, baby,” Jill cried against Peace’s shoulder. “I want to be your wife more than anything I have ever wanted.”
Jill’s parents looked at each other, and Mr. Gregory smiled at his wife. Tears were streaming down his wife’s cheeks, and she looked a little frightened. Mr. Gregory put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer to him for comfort. Jill had let Peace put the engagement ring on her finger, and after glancing at the expensive looking ring for a moment, she kissed him with a passion intense enough her parents looked away. They stood up together, and Peace pulled Jill to her feet as he held her close. She stretched out her arm for her parents to see her ring. Mrs. Gregory took her hand gently in both of hers, looking through her tears at the beautiful ring, before looking up at Jill.
“Jill, are you sure about this? It’s… it’s so sudden, and you only just returned from that ordeal in Chile. Shouldn’t you…”
Jill hugged her Mom, and then held her out at arm’s length, glancing from one parent to the other. “I’ve been in love with Peace from the moment he put his hand over mine while he carried me through the jungle to safety. I didn’t know how much until I found him again. I pray you both will give us your blessing; because with it or without it, I will be his wife.”
“Of course we will, Honey,” Mr. Gregory said, kissing her forehead, and putting his arms around both his wife and Jill. “You won’t mind if it takes a few minutes to get used to the idea, will you?”
“No Dad,” Jill laughed, as her Father stretched a hand out to Peace.
“Congratulations, son,” Mr. Gregory said, as Peace shook his hand gratefully.
“Thank you, Sir. I’m sorry I sprang this on you so suddenly; but I could not bear another moment without asking her,” Peace explained truthfully.
Jill’s Mom hugged Peace finally with a huge sigh. “I’m sorry I was less than excited, Peace. It’s just…”
“No need to explain, Ma’am. Jill is the most beautiful woman I have ever known, inside and out. I realize how scary it must be for you to see Jill agree to marry a scarred up freak like me; but the two of us lived through some terrifying events in our lives, very few people have ever shared. Her finding me was a miracle, and my ignoring it would be insanity.”
“I… I understand, Peace,” Mrs. Gregory said hesitantly.
“Well,” Mr. Gregory said happily, “I guess we’ll have something to celebrate tonight. Are you hungry, Peace? I’m starving. What say we take these two beautiful women out to dinner?”
“I’d like that very much, Sir,” Peace replied, as Jill put her arm around his waist.
Chapter Sixteen
Details
“Before we go, I want you two to hear something,” Jill said, pulling Peace along up out of the sunken living room, and over to a grand piano in the right corner of the room.
Peace ran an admiring hand over it. “It’s a beauty.”
“Do you play, Peace?” Mr. Gregory asked as he and his wife joined them by the piano.
Peace sat down at the piano with Jill standing close behind him. He played a complex piece by Chopin for a few moments, warming up as Mr
s. Gregory looked at her husband with a startled look. Jill saw the look, and smiled at her Father. Peace stopped abruptly. He looked right at Mrs. Gregory.
“Can I play something for you, Ma’am, an old favorite perhaps?”
“I… that is… do you know When Your Lover has Gone?”
“Do I?” Peace laughed, looking back at Jill before launching into the haunting melody. “It’s one of my favorites.”
When Peace began singing in accompaniment to his playing, softly altering the rhythm, and emphasizing the words in a blues variation, Jill could see the shock on her parents’ faces. When Peace drew out the last chord to its soulful conclusion, they applauded vigorously.
“My God, boy,” Mr. Gregory said in awe, “is there anything you don’t do?”
“I don’t play the accordion,” Peace smiled, as Jill hugged him from behind.
“That was beautiful,” Mrs. Gregory added. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard it done any better. To play and sing so beautifully, and yet… you… you’re a sniper. It’s crazy, Peace.” “Mom,” Jill broke in. “Peace…”
Peace had stood up, and he drew Jill into his arms as he smiled at Mrs. Gregory. “Your Mom’s right. The incongruous things I do well, do sound crazy; and Ma’am, while I play and sing very well, I am even better at being a sniper.”
Jill clapped her hands over her mouth to keep from laughing, as Peace’s matter-of-fact statement again shocked her Mom. On the other hand, Jill noticed her Father looking at Peace as if he were enthralled with the details he had been presented with.
“You don’t fly out of windows in a cape, or anything of that nature, do you, son?” Mr. Gregory joked.
“No, but I do a great Elmer Fudd imitation.”
They all laughed at this newly revealed addition to Peace’s repertoire as Peace demonstrated.
__
“It’s beautiful,” Jill said in a hushed tone, as she lay in Peace’s arms. “It must have cost you a fortune.”
“What makes it beautiful is the fact it’s on your finger,” Peace said, kissing the back of her neck. “Will your folks insist on a long engagement, and a huge society wedding? Your Mom seemed like she’d go for us doing a quickie ceremony in some marriage chapel in Las Vegas.”
“My Mom likes you,” Jill laughed. “It will take them some getting used to, like Dad said. My Dad told me I could have any wedding I wanted. If you don’t mind, I’d like a small one with just my immediate friends and family. You can invite whomever you wish.”
“As long as the ceremony, wherever and whatever it is, ends in you being my wife, I don’t care how extravagant or small it is.”
Jill rolled over to face Peace, only inches away. “Whatever made you do it? I thought you were set on slow and easy.”
Peace brushed his fingertips down her face. When he moved them down along her side, Jill shuddered, moving closer to him. “Batiste and those cops reminded me how fragile long term goals can be. If Dink hadn’t shown up with a mask and lead pipe, maybe you wouldn’t be wearing the ring; but he did, and you are. I can envision a number of different directions this can go from here, and many of them are bad.”
“Let’s just… no, strike that,” Jill sighed. “I was going to say run or hide; but that would have been something I’d have said before my attitude adjustment in Chile. This will be good practice for my future as a Seal’s wife. I can’t both love you for what you are, and at the same time ask you to give it up. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. I realize there are things none of us can control.”
“You are one hell of a woman,” Peace whispered, kissing her gently on the lips.
“I hope they have conjugal visits in prison,” Jill replied, rubbing against him. “Hon, I think that swelling problem’s returned.”
__
Lewiston sat in his own 1995 Chevrolet Corsica, watching a brightly lit house near the San Diego State campus, where one of the student’s parents had rented a house for their son to live in while attending the college. The student played football with Derrick Batiste, and he was hosting a party for the team. Lewiston had been shadowing Batiste for nearly a week, since he and Mobry had tried to question Peacenik at Polasky’s restaurant, hoping the Seal would try something on Batiste. Tomorrow being Friday, Lewiston knew he would not be able to pull another weekend away from his family.
Lewiston sighed, remembering the fight he had with his wife over his long hours. Their five-year old daughter was attending kindergarten, and tonight all the parents were to attend a show and tell presentation at the school. Tina had looked at him in disgust as he kissed their little girl, Tara, goodbye. He had tried to explain about his overtime, and his pursuit of a cop killer; but the fact his private investigation had not been sanctioned by the department, really had his wife on edge.
After Lewiston tried unsuccessfully to get their Captain, a fifteen year veteran of the force, named Steven Brills, to okay surveillance on Peacenik, Mobry refused to even discuss it any further. Brills had told Lewiston, in plain terms, to drop the whole matter. Even when Lewiston had brought up the strange details of Batiste’s connection to two assaults and three homicides, Brills had shrugged it off. The fact McCray and Miguel had been tied to the investigations, engendered no interest in the very weird connecting threads, from Captain Brills. Lewiston, thinking of his young daughter, began for the first time to wonder if he needed to take his partner’s advice, and let his pursuit of Peace end.
Lewiston was jolted from his reverie by the spraying of liquid on his windshield, followed by a grimy hand, encased in a fingerless glove, smearing the liquid with an old hand squeegee. Lewiston saw a bearded tramp, in filthy blue jeans, tennis shoes, brown windbreaker, and stocking hat pulled down over his forehead to just above his eyes, diligently scrapping the beat up squeegee across Lewiston’s windshield.
Lewiston angrily yanked his badge out, as the man held his dirty, gloved hand out for his hoped for money. Instead, Lewiston turned the car ignition on, and energized his power window down partially. He flashed his badge at the obviously homeless beggar. When the man remained next to his Corsica with his hand out, Lewiston lost his temper.
“Get your filthy ass away from my car, moron, before I have a squad car come down here and throw your ass in the drunk tank,” Lewiston shouted up at the man, spittle flying out of his mouth as he spoke.
The bearded man stumbled back, and mumbling unintelligibly, he trudged away down the street. Lewiston cursed under his breath. Lewiston kept his eyes on the man through his rear view mirror, until the homeless tramp walked around the block to the left, out of sight. Lewiston turned his key to the on position and used his washer spray and wipers to clear up the streaked windshield. He returned to his surveillance of the house, waiting and wondering again whether he should be there at all. Couples came and went; but Batiste did not emerge from the house. Although it was still early, Lewiston had just about had enough.
As Lewiston reached to start his car, he noticed a man coming around the street corner about twenty yards in front of his Corsica. In the dull street lamp light, the man appeared to be about Peacenik’s height, wearing a dark blue, three piece, tailored suit, Lewiston figured to be in the four figured range as far as cost. The dark complexioned man smiled at Lewiston, and angled over to the Corsica’s passenger side window nonchalantly. He stooped down to peer in at Lewiston, still smiling the same easy going smile. When the man tapped on Lewiston’s passenger side window, Lewiston again turned on the ignition, and energized the passenger window down, with some exasperation creeping over his features. Lewiston leaned towards the passenger side.
“Can I help you?”
In the next instant, the barrel of a silencer attached to what looked like a 9MM automatic was touching his forehead.
“Put your hands on the steering wheel,” a gravelly voice ordered him in a hushed threatening tone. “Don’t make me tell you twice.”
Lewiston did as he was told, remembering how McCray h
ad been found. He tried to gauge how suicidal it would be to reach inside his coat for his weapon. Fear, not of the silenced handgun; but of never seeing his wife and daughter again, decided the issue for Lewiston. He reluctantly put his hands on the steering wheel. The blue suited man smoothly unlocked and opened the passenger side door, sliding in next to Lewiston. While still holding the gun on the detective, Bluesuit used the electric switch to unlock all the doors of the Corsica. A moment later, two more dark suited figures slipped into the backseat of Lewiston’s four-door sedan, pointing silenced weapons at the back of his head. For the first time, Lewiston noticed the man next to him wore latex gloves.
“I’m a police officer,” Lewiston stated calmly. “I have my badge in my suit coat pocket if you’ll allow me to get it, I…”
“That won’t be necessary,” Bluesuit said, with a slight Spanish accent. “We know who you are, Detective Lewiston. We’re going to go for a little ride.”
“I ain’t going anywhere with you, asshole,” Lewiston blustered. “You’ll just kill me anyway, whether I do or not, so if you’re going to kill me, do it now.”
Bluesuit smiled affably, and took a cell-phone out of his jacket pocket, holding it up for Lewiston to see. “Your lovely wife and daughter have been home now for a while, and I believe they have already retired for the evening. I can have someone check though, if you want.”
Icy dread raced up Lewiston’s spine. He started the Corsica without another word. “Where to?”
“First things first, Detective,” Bluesuit said, nodding at his comrades in the backseat. Both barrels of their weapons went up against the back of Lewiston’s head. The man in the front seat professionally searched every inch of Lewiston, relieving him of his holstered weapon.
“Now we may begin. Drive down to the corner and turn right.”
__
It had all been a joke to Peace up until now: the almost comic surveillance Lewiston had been involved in for a week under Peace’s watchful eye, and Batiste’s frat boy comings and goings. If the underlying aspect had not been so deadly serious, Peace would have considered it a useful, but boring training exercise. His most secretive and intricate part of the exercise had involved the procurement of a nondescript car from an ad almost forty minutes up the coast from San Diego. Peace had paid cash for it, a beat up wreck of a 1972 Ford LTD, which still ran very well. On the way back to San Diego, he gathered together his shopping list of micro transmitters and receivers, stopping only long enough to check the car over more thoroughly.
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