by L.T. Ryan
* * *
We drove straight into the city. Bear dropped me off a couple blocks from Marlowe’s place. He wanted to wait with me. I insisted that he take Jessie and find somewhere else to be in case something happened. I still didn’t know if I could trust Marlowe. Sure, he gave up Keller, but he might have done it to protect himself. The fact that I returned might spur him into additional action. He might decide to get rid of me. I had no doubt that he had that power. If that happened, I didn’t want Bear and Jessie in the middle. Plus, they had the backup files on the computer and the audio CD that implicated Keller behind everything.
Keller’s confession was one reason I trusted Marlowe. Keller didn’t mention him. Maybe he did it on purpose, though, in the event that I walked out of his house alive.
For a moment I doubted my decision to just leave Keller’s house. My rational side told me he knew he was beaten. Despite his recent horrible decision making, he had once been an honorable man. I’d only known him for eight years. He had been a good man most of those years. Those who knew him longer than that held him in high esteem. Maybe I was reaching. Maybe I was letting the fact that he had known and served with my father influence me.
I crossed the street and stood in front of Marlowe’s house. I walked up the six steps to his front porch and rang the doorbell. Nobody answered. I took a seat on the third step and enjoyed the warm breeze.
The upscale neighborhood was quiet. That made it easy to hear Marlowe and his assigned agents approaching before they realized I was there. I thought about hiding on the other side of the stairwell. Instead, I sat still and kept my hands in plain view.
The agent who stared me down outside the pizzeria my first day in D.C. was the first to notice me. He drew his gun and barked orders at me. I looked past him. The second agent stood in front of Marlowe. Marlowe peered around the agent and nodded at me.
“I’m unarmed,” I said. I had left my gun with Bear. Risky move, but I was over it at this point. The recording held the truth. The police could arrest me. Secret Service or the DoD could detain me. CIA and FBI could fight over who would detain me. In the end, I’d be set free by Keller’s words.
“Hands up,” the agent said.
“They’re in plain view,” I said. “Get your damn gun out of my face. OK?”
“It’s OK, Gerard,” Marlowe said.
The two agents relaxed a bit. Well, relaxed as much as uptight Defense Department agents could. Those guys were hard wired for action. They found it in everything they did. I bet even brushing their teeth turned into an anxiety inducing event. I wondered what the heart attack rate was for guys in their line of work within their first five years of retirement.
Marlowe pushed past the men entrusted with his life and stood on the sidewalk a few feet in front of me.
“Jack, let’s go inside and talk.”
I looked between him and the two men in dark suits behind him. “They have to come in with us?”
“Yes, unfortunately they have to go with me everywhere during working hours.” He climbed a single step. “But they’ll be well behaved. Won’t you boys?” He turned and smiled at the men.
They didn’t smile back.
I stood and followed Marlowe inside. It was nice going in through the front door. He led the way to the kitchen where he started a pot of coffee and pulled two beers from the refrigerator. The Defense Department agents tried to follow us in. Marlowe sent one outside out through the back door, and made the other wait in the living room, telling him to stay at least ten feet from the swinging door.
He cracked open a beer and handed it to me. I took it and put it to my lips without checking the label. A few sips later I was exhaling with contentment at the refreshing beverage.
He smiled, his eyebrows rising into his forehead as he poured his beer into a tall glass.
“It’s local, a craft beer. Excellent stuff. Brewer is a friend of mine.”
I nodded and took another pull from the brown bottle. Still hadn’t checked the label.
“Anyway, Mr. Noble,” he said, “I’m sure you didn’t come here to discuss local breweries.”
I shook my head and didn’t correct him for calling me Mister instead of Sergeant.
“I take it you confronted Keller?”
“I did.”
“How did it go?”
I reached into my inside pocket and noticed Marlowe tense for a second, the smile fading from his face.
“Relax,” I said as I pulled the small digital recorder from my pocket. “It’s all on here.”
He smiled and walked in front of me and took a seat at the table. He crossed his legs and took a long pull on his beer, then set the bottle down on the table.
“Play it.”
I hit play and placed the digital recorder on the table. Marlowe listened intently, nodding and making eye contact with me occasionally.
“That’s some pretty damning evidence,” he said.
“I’ve got copies.”
He smiled and reached for the recorder. “Don’t worry, Jack. I’ll handle this.”
I grabbed the recorder and pulled it closer. “What will happen to Keller?”
He took another pull from his bottle of beer and stared at me for a moment. “Worst case is a dishonorable discharge.”
“No jail time?”
“I hope so, but you know there are many parties involved in this. It’s up to them how they want to pursue the matter. Implicating Keller might implicate them.”
I shook my head. “He’s responsible for the deaths of at least ten people.”
“I know that and you know that. Hell, the person responsible for making this decision will know it.” He got up and went to the fridge and came back with two more beers, already opened. “This is the dark side of these operations, Jack.”
I nodded. I knew. I knew when I was in his house that it might end up like this. I wanted to kick myself for not taking him out when I had the chance.
“What about me?” I said.
“What about you?” he said.
“I want out.”
“Jack, I’m pretty sure that even if the program is continued, you won’t be invited back in.”
“Not just the program. I want out of the Marines. My enlistment is up in September. I’ve got three months leave accrued. I’m taking my leave and I want my official retirement to be the last day of my leave.”
“I don’t have the power to—”
“Bullshit, Marlowe.”
He shifted in his seat. Crossed his arms over his chest and looked me over.
“Ok, Jack.”
He pulled a cell phone from his coat and placed a call. Five minutes later I had my freedom. He also instructed whoever he spoke with to remove me and Bear from any federal, state and local suspect lists.
“You’re free, Mr. Noble.”
I slid the digital recorder across the table. Marlowe picked it up, studied it and then dropped it into his glass of beer.
“Why?” I tried to appear angry, but felt confused. He knew I had a backup. Did he expect me to push this further or in a different direction? Was this his way of telling me he wasn’t going to do anything?
“Political suicide, Jack. On top of that, imagine when the media gets a hold of this information. A Marine General ordering the deaths of his own men and another commanding officer? It’s best to leave it be, Jack. I’ll take care of Keller in my own way.”
So that was it. He was going to take the political route. He could squeeze anyone I presented the evidence to. I felt like reaching out and striking him. I didn’t. I’d still present the CD to a few contacts and see where we could take it.
I nodded and stood and grabbed the bottle of beer off the table and finished it one pull. I spun the bottle in my hand and the label caught my eye, a coat of arms with two broadswords crossing one another. Double Crossed Breweries. Perfect.
“You did the right thing, Jack. No matter what happens to Keller. Who knows how many lives you saved?�
�
“Not enough,” I said. “One question, though. If you knew, why didn’t you come down on Keller?”
“I didn’t know. Not one hundred percent. It made sense. Evidence pointed that way. But I would have never got the confession that you did.”
“Not that the confession matters.” I turned and pushed through the door without saying another word.
