by Laura Acton
The magnetic attraction kept building in intensity over the months despite beating the crap out of the little devil who hovered on her shoulder. Something about him kept drawing her in and made her want to risk everything she worked for and valued.
Every night she spent several minutes staring at her Honorable Blue bedroom wall—the shade of blue exactly matched Dan’s sapphire eyes. She slept each night with the feeling he watched over and protected her.
She didn’t need protecting. I’m not a hothouse flower or a damsel in distress, but a woman capable of fending for myself. Though she couldn’t deny that the foreign and uncharacteristic thought of Dan protecting her gave her a sense of safety she never experienced before. Lexa sighed and closed her eyes too. What is this man doing to me?
Warming Up and Mail
20
January 14
TRF HQ – Briefing Room – 6:30 p.m.
After being fished out of the harbor, EMS checked out Dan and Lexa and gave both the all clear to return to duty. Upon arriving at headquarters, Jon ordered them to take long, hot showers to warm up. Dan readily complied, though after dressing in a dry uniform and toasty jacket, the chill still lingered.
Despite the events at the dock, or perhaps because of them, Dan grinned as he sat at the briefing table sipping his third cup of hot coffee from Timmy’s the guys supplied. Things seemed to be improving. Stealing a covert glance at Lexa, he recalled her warm hand on his cheek as they lay at the bottom of the boat. Just her simple touch had warmed him and relaxed him. He didn’t feel entirely alone when he gazed into her eyes. She continued to fascinate him. He never met a woman who attracted him quite as she did.
Though, he must draw a line. Protocols prohibited fraternization among teammates. After studying all the manuals, Dan could almost recite the rules verbatim. Crossing the line would result in being kicked off the team and he would be back to square one with another one. That is if any of them would accept him after disregarding regulations. Nevertheless, her closeness struck him at a base level and stopping the stirrings proved impossible.
Shutting down the unproductive line of thought, Dan tuned back into the end of debriefing. He already explained how he went in the drink. Stepping back as the three women started whacking him, he slipped on a wet spot and ended up going overboard.
He sat stoically as the guys razzed him about taking a swim in the middle of a critical call. He now recognized the teasing for what it was, a tension release, nothing demeaning or malicious. They ribbed everyone, particularly when something comical occurred which could’ve ended dreadfully but didn’t.
It brought to mind his unit. They ragged on each other mercilessly once they returned safely back to base. Brody was the most adept and made everyone laugh. Weirdly, Loki reminded him of Brody.
Their appearances were nothing alike. Brody had been six feet with short-cropped, medium brown hair, and jade green eyes. Loki stood five-ten and possessed chestnut brown eyes and short, wavy, black hair with a cowlick which tended to fall on his forehead, causing Loki to rake it back into place often. Loki also had the olive skin tone of his Italian heritage and tanned rather than burned like Brody’s fair skin did.
Their underlying personality traits is where the commonality lie. Brody and Loki exuded a zest for life. He also found their emotions typically easy to read, though Loki didn’t use shields. And they both loved pulling pranks.
His mind wandered again, and he decided aside from the swim in the harbor, today had been a decent day. He even managed to purchase a new helmet. Paired with Jon while patrolling this morning, the tactical lead stopped at a motorcycle shop and insisted he go inside and buy a helmet after sharing with him his brother’s accident and telling him he didn’t want the same thing or worse to befall him.
Jon’s change of attitude threw Dan off-balance, making him unsure how to proceed with the new Jon. Given time, Dan figured this would sort itself out. At least he hoped it would because he began to enjoy coming to work and the comradery offered by members of his team.
When the banter died down the team decided to go to the Pond after work. Grabbing a beer or two sounded like a pleasant end to the shift. Warmed by the friendly ambiance, Dan became a willing participant and shocked his teammates when he accepted.
Royal Manchester Hotel – Vancouver, BC – 6:00 p.m.
General Broderick strode out of the conference room and took a deep breath, exhaling he released tension from an exhausting day. He detested the political maneuvering required by his position. Turning, he spotted Lieutenant Galloway, his security lead, speaking with a man in a suit.
Mike Galloway noticed the general as soon as he exited and put up a hand to the insistent man to visually stop the conversation. “Excuse the interruption. General Broderick is now available. If you follow me, I’ll find a secure location to ensure privacy for your discussion.”
Detective Redmond followed Galloway, but stopped and waited a short distance away while he spoke with his CO. When waved forward, he trailed them to a smaller room. He understood the need to converse in private regarding this issue.
After Mike closed the door, he made introductions. “Sir, this is Detective Austin Redmond of the Vancouver Police Department.”
William Broderick assessed the man. All business and buttoned up as he stiffly held himself erect, possibly former military from the stance. “Detective, Lt. Galloway informed me you have a pressing matter which cannot wait. I can give you only a moment of my time, as my wife is awaiting me for dinner.”
Redmond appraised the formidable man. He waved a hand toward the chairs. “Please sit, sir. The issue is somewhat delicate.” Pulling out a chair, he sat and placed a bulky envelope on the table as the general took a seat, and Galloway maintained his position near the exit. Glancing at the lieutenant and back to Broderick, Redmond said, “Sir, it might be best to talk alone.” He motioned to the door with a small tilt of his chin.
“You may speak freely.” William trusted Galloway implicitly. The man led his security unit for sixteen years, and their shared history developed an understanding which went beyond general and lieutenant.
“As you wish. I’ll get right to the point. I’m investigating a homicide. Mr. Sandeep Jheeta, a former corporal in the Army, was found dead this morning by his brother. The medical examiner placed his death between ten p.m. and midnight last night. From the crime scene, it appears the victim suffered a single GSW to the head. The ballistic trauma and angle of bullet penetration indicate the trajectory originated in the trees outside his home.”
“And what does this have to do with me? To my recollection, I never met Corporal Jheeta.”
Detective Redmond started to open the envelope. “Mr. Jheeta died in his kitchen while sitting at the table writing a letter addressed to you.”
“Why would he be writing to me?”
Pulling out several evidence bags, Redmond replied, “This letter will explain partially.” He handed over one of the plastic bags. “Please read this as it may affect your answers to my questions.”
William took the offered bag. On one side he noted the preprinted chain of evidence log, turning it over he set eyes on the missive. The victim’s blood covered approximately two-thirds of the unfinished correspondence. However, the blood did not obscure the writing.
General Broderick,
You don’t know me, and we’ve never met. I’m writing to you because my conscience is eating away at me and I must confess.
I’m enclosing evidence of my offense. I fully expect you to contact the authorities and I will await whatever punishment is meted out. I wanted to send this to you instead of going to the police because this involves your son.
I’m very sorry for my participation in this horrendous crime. As you can see, I enclosed a few items addressed to Master Corporal Dan Broderick. I also inserted a couple from him to family members and others. This is my terrible offense. I worked in the mailroom both in Ottawa and in Kandahar. I stole your son’s ma
il for six years.
At first, I diverted the items to a man who held my life in his hands. You see, I entered Canada illegally as a child. I joined the military under a false name. My blackmailer discovered my past indiscretion and coerced me to do this horrible thing.
He sought information, what intel I’m not sure—he never told me. When this started, he would send back to me any items he wanted forwarded on and delivered to the recipient. About three years later, he instructed me to burn all correspondence both to and from him.
I complied for three or four months, burning everything. My conscience plagued me. How could I do this to someone who put his life on the line every day? My actions systematically terminated his connection to home and loved ones. What I did wasn’t right! I started keeping all messages instead of destroying them, hoping one day to be able to return them and atone for my misdeed.
When my contract ended last month, I left the Army. I loved being a soldier, but I couldn’t stand being under his control and doing something so despicable. Last week, several things occurred making me believe I’m being watched. I’m afraid he is aware I saved everything and is tying-up loose ends.
I possess nothing to prove he blackmailed me. Unfortunately, I didn’t think far enough ahead. In hindsight, I should’ve turned him in. All our communication occurred face-to-face, so there is no proof, only my word. Perhaps you can investigate and bring him to justice too. The man blackmailing me is Pl
Stunned, William stared at the blood-soaked note. This is like a dime-store who-done-it novel. His message stops just as he is about to name his blackmailer, to identify the man stealing Daniel’s missives during his entire stint in Special Forces.
In the last six months, he gave a lot of thought to Daniel’s parting words in his office in Kandahar. General, you’re a failure, too. You failed to kill me. You tried for six fucking years, and you missed the mark every goddamned time! Could this be in any way related?
Lifting his gaze to Mike, William held out the bag to him. “Read this. We have a significant problem.”
Mike’s eyes widened in disbelief as he read. My job is to protect the general and his family. How could this happen on my watch? Six years!
Reaching out, William pulled the other evidence to him. He examined them numbly noting items to and from Yvonne, Becca, Daniel’s cousins, Retired Sergeant Wilson Keswick, Master Corporal Bas ‘Dutch’ Duchatteau, and Master Corporal Basil ‘Buzz’ Barkle.
His heart sank. Yvonne’s messages never reached Daniel. And more importantly, Yvonne received none of Daniel’s notes. It broke her heart when Daniel quit writing back. His communiqués were never more than a few mundane lines, but Yvonne cherished every single one.
How am I going to tell Yvonne? Is she well enough to weather the emotional storm this will cause? Although Yvonne appeared healthier in the past weeks, he couldn’t take the risk of informing her until her vitality renewed, especially with him returning to Afghanistan soon. He wouldn’t be here to support her through the maelstrom. As much as it pained him, William would withhold the information until she gained enough strength to handle the news.
“Are these all the letters?” William asked as he clamped down on the fury building inside of him.
“No, sir. Only a sampling. When searching the home, CSI discovered a full box in the back of Mr. Jheeta’s closet.”
William set his mask firmly in place, allowing none of his emotion to show. “What are your questions?”
“First, do you know the whereabouts of Daniel Broderick?”
Ire surged inside William, but his voice came out calm and icy. “If you are implying my son had anything to do with Jheeta’s death, I can assure you, that is not the case.”
“So, you do know where he is?”
“Yes. Currently, he is living in Toronto working as a constable and member of Toronto’s Tactical Response Force. You may contact Commander Gambrill to verify his location.”
After making notes, Redmond asked, “Do you have any idea why someone would want to intercept your son’s mail?”
Broderick stood. “That is for me to determine. This is no longer a civil law enforcement matter. Given the original crime occurred while Mr. Jheeta was in the Canadian Armed Forces, JAG will expropriate jurisdiction.”
Not cowed by the commanding man, Redmond rose too. “Mr. Jhetta’s murder is a police matter. We believe his complicity in withholding Broderick’s correspondence relates directly to his death. Perhaps the redirected dispatches are part of something larger. Your son was in Special Forces. He might’ve been revealing classified information.”
The ambient temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees after Redmond implied Dan did something wrong. Mike waited for the general to unload on the detective. Broderick was impressive when idiots pissed him off.
Eyes becoming shards of blue ice, General Broderick glared at the man. His voice hard and unyielding, he said, “Detective Redmond, you know not of whom you speak. Daniel Broderick is above reproach. He is an honorable man who served and sacrificed much for his country.
“My son would die before he would divulge secrets. And it is not just a father’s pride speaking, but a documented fact. He nearly died after suffering three months of excruciating torture at the hands of terrorists. Daniel never revealed anything other than his name, rank, and service number. You will not contact Daniel or any of the addressees on this matter.
“As this may be a matter of national security, my office has jurisdiction and will investigate the matter. We will inform the Vancouver Police Department of any findings which may assist you in identifying and apprehending the murderer. You have my word.”
Every word cut like a knife through Redmond as he took several steps back. Redmond swallowed the lump of fear which formed in his throat—strike not being cowed by the general. Broderick’s eyes exuded barely contained primal rage. The physically fit man could snap his neck in an instant if he wanted. “Yes, sir,” is all he squeaked out.
Turning to Mike, William directed, “Lieutenant, please accompany Detective Redmond to the evidence lockup and retrieve all the dispatches. Coordinate with Colonel Sutton to send a team to Mr. Jheeta’s home and scour it for any evidence which might identify his blackmailer.”
When the general addressed him, Mike came to attention, an action he only did in public or when he wished to show respect, since Broderick told him to dispense with formality fifteen years ago. “Right away, sir.” Mike strode to the table, put the bags of evidence back into the envelope, and scowled at the subdued detective. “Shall we go?”
Wanting to escape the wrath of the enraged father, Redmond hurried out of the room.
Upon exiting, Mike spoke briefly with his second-in-command, Master Corporal Damon Merganser. Drake would remain to provide the general’s protection, but he would maintain a position outside of the conference room. Drake acknowledged the order assuming a post at the closed door as Mike and the detective strode out of the hotel.
Slumping into the chair, William was aware he overstepped his bounds and needed to do damage control. Though he might possess the authority to request JAG to assume jurisdiction, stating it as fact remained outside his power and gave the appearance of a conflict of interest since this involved his son.
Although, sometimes it was better to ask forgiveness than ask permission. From here on out, he must ensure they did everything by the book so there would be no uproar or accusations claiming abuses of power or cover up.
His mind rolled to all the photos received since Daniel joined Special Forces. Well aware someone targeted him. The disturbing images sent attempted to elicit emotional reactions in him by threatening his family, and most specifically his beloved son.
In public, William dissociated his familial relationships, and to most people, he appeared aloof and uncaring. Over the years, it grew harder to maintain the facade as his behavior expanded the riff with Daniel, but sadly it was necessary to keep his entire family safe.
But someone became aware of his real feelings and continually endeavored to exploit his soft spot for an unknown reason. His analysts could never trace the deliveries of the photographs. Perhaps the reason lies with former Corporal Jheeta, he did work in the mailroom after all. The analysts investigating the pictures found no identifiable traces on the paper or envelope used. Jheeta might be involved, but if so, the lead died with him.
William recalled the last part of Jheeta’s letter. The blackmailer’s name started Pl. Not much to go on. Many people, either connected or not connected with the military, had names beginning with Pl and it could be a first or last name. Unbidden, one name slipped in—Plouffe. William discounted him. No, Plouffe is Special Forces. I may not like the guy, but that doesn’t implicate him as the mastermind. But then again … No, I would’ve suspected something. Though … I rarely speak with him.
The point and counterpoint thoughts unproductive, William stood, squared his shoulders, and put the matter aside. He would allow capable men to do a proper investigation. For now, Yvonne awaited him, and he planned to enjoy a pleasant dinner with her. Afterward, he would discuss the situation with his CO, Chief of the Defence Staff McFergus. Whether Plouffe or not was involved, the possibility of a criminal or traitor among them now existed. After calling Jerrell, he would contact Walter for an update on Daniel’s progress.
As much as he wanted Daniel back in the Army, with his mail intercepted for six years, for the moment, Daniel was probably safer in Toronto. Once they uncovered the reason for this and identified the culprit, he would approach Daniel, and his son would return to where he belonged.
And Daniel belonged in Special Forces. A natural fit, he thrived on it for years. William believed Daniel desired to move up the ranks quickly when a cursory review of his service records after he exited last July revealed Daniel requested interim assignments with one unit after another, eschewing downtime.
