Fredo's Dream: SEAL Brotherhood: Fredo

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Fredo's Dream: SEAL Brotherhood: Fredo Page 6

by Sharon Hamilton


  “I don’t think the cops are gonna find these guys, and if they do, there won’t be anything they can do.” He dug into his salad without waiting for Coop’s reaction. He was famished and knew that in another hour he’d be starved for ice cream, chips and cookies. That was a sure sign he was worried, but it helped him cope.

  “And why is that?”

  “Cause they’re not who we think they are. They’re building a fuckin’ criminal enterprise,” Fredo said to the top of Coop’s head. Cooper had leaned into his sandwich to take another enormous bite, his mouth wide open, anticipating the food. That last comment got him sitting straight up pulling back from the sandwich as if it were made of poison.

  “You gotta be kidding me.”

  “Wish I was. First, they do this little war against the project that threatened their takeover. Then they show us their balls by buying the old Missionary church a couple of blocks away. You ever hear of gangs buying old buildings to make money off of or run their enterprise from? They’re here to stay.

  “Is this a done deal or what?”

  Fredo knew he had to get confirmation. “It’s just what Julio told me. I’ve been thinking about this the whole start of this trip. Something wrong with it. Smells funny.”

  “They do this right under the radar. No one would object there. They do their form of community outreach and we do ours.” Coop’s head was moving from side to side. “Except their final solution and ours are two totally different goals.”

  “Yup.” Fredo crumpled up his napkin into the empty cardboard bowl and threw his fork into the middle of it. He sat back to stretch and then placed his forearms back on the table and leaned in. “We keep the older kids busy learning how to use computers, how to paint and work a stage performance—”

  The two SEALs stared at one another across the table as the full import hit both of them at the same time.

  Coop finished Fredo’s thought. “While they steal their sisters and the little kids, sell them for slaves, put drugs in their veins, and tell everyone to have a nice day.”

  “But Coop, the one thing that doesn’t make sense is why the hell they’d blow up the school, or go around asking about it. Why would they bring that much scrutiny onto themselves?”

  “You’re right. Doesn’t make any sense at all.”

  BY THE TIME the two SEALs made their final stop, they were only an hour from Sonoma County. The late fall day was clear. The bright blue sky was dotted with “clotted sheep” clouds, as Fredo liked to call them. Near San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park, they stopped for a water for Coop and another coffee for Fredo.

  Fredo’s phone rang.

  “This is Detective Clark Riverton, returning your call, Mr. Chavez. What can I do for you?” The crusty detective had been a friend to the SEALs over the years and was a close friend of the good doc, Coop’s father-in-law.

  “Thanks for calling, Detective Riverton.” Fredo raised his unibrow to Coop, who nodded understanding. “We got some information about the St. Rose School fire—”

  “You mean bombing, son. It’s been officially ruled a bombing,” corrected Riverton.

  “Good. We agree. I’m with Coop, and we’re up in Northern California for a couple of days.”

  “Greetings to Coop. Now, what can I do you for? I’ve got a meeting to get to.”

  “I’m in contact with one of the local kids from the neighborhood, Julio Hernandez.”

  “I’m familiar with the family. I’ve not had the pleasure, but I’ve met his sister.”

  “Yes. He’s a good kid. Helps me with the project. He’s my eyes and ears in the community. And I trust him.”

  “Go on, Mr. Chavez.”

  “He mentioned to me there has been little police visibility as far as questioning the neighbors who might have seen something about the bombing. And he also said something else. He told me a group has been hanging around. They’re probably from Central America, but they’re a real tough bunch. Not locals at all. And, they have money.”

  “I’m afraid it happens all the time. They know how to blend in well, especially if they have ill intent. We can’t tell who’s new and who grew up there. So go on. Where is this leading me, because I gotta go.”

  “They’ve bought property just a block or so away. An old CME church. And they’re developing plans to turn it into a clubhouse, like our Center.”

  “So maybe you guys work together? That what you’re sayin?”

  “No. No way. I don’t trust them, sir. But you gotta know Julio says they’ve been asking who blew up our building. It’s like they want to be the only game in town. They’ve been offering their services, to help.”

  Riverton paused, and Fredo could almost hear the squeaky wheels turning in the detective’s head. After a long minute, he exhaled and said something to someone else nearby, with his hand muffling the phone. He returned to the conversation without apologizing.

  “And you definitely see them as not connected to the bombing?”

  “Julio’s sure they didn’t do it.”

  After a brief pause, Riverton asked, “Can you get the kid to come into my office? Probably safer for him if we do it that way. I can interview him in safety without worrying about eyes on us. Maybe he can help us find these guys, ask them a few questions.”

  “I’ll try to get word to him, no promises.”

  “Good. Anything else?”

  “They’re telling the folks they’re going to help them.”

  “That sounds like what a couple of groups up North did. Some of them turned out to be legit, though, Mr. Chavez. Actually did some good work. So what’s your point?”

  “They’re trying to buy favors. Coming in like they’re new best friends.”

  “Just like the old gangs did in New York way back when. Good thing you guys got there first.”

  “So, Riverton, you gotta admit, that school might have been a target not only for what it was, but for who’s behind it.”

  “You run afoul of any locals?”

  “Well, Caesar, Sonny. Just the usual gangs who prey off the local population. Maybe they don’t like that we’re trying to free them. In other words, maybe because people know SEAL Team 3 has taken it on as one of their pet projects, it put a target on the place.”

  “I’d say it’s more because you’ve left a vacuum and are filling it with good deeds. Well, I appreciate the good intel. I’ll check with the force and see what’s going on. The Feds are working on it now, so I don’t think you’ll see many beat cops want to get involved. And they probably can’t even if they wanted to. Cops get killed over stuff like this.”

  “I was thinkin’ the same way, sir. So can you find out about the investigation? I’m a concerned citizen and I don’t want to mess with the Feds.” Just like there was a degree of jealousy the SEALs had to endure with regular Navy guys, not those who tried out for the Teams, but regular Navy assholes, there was some professional lack of respect and trust between the SEALs and several Federal agencies. A long-standing source of this was the Federal Government’s wanting to meddle in some of the secret tactics the SEALs used. The community worried some of their ranks could be called to task for how they operated overseas.

  “Let me see. Not sure I’ll get much. But I’d need to share this. I’ll only release the information if I have to.”

  “Don’t go giving out Julio’s name.”

  “I’ll protect your little guy. But you get him in here for an interview. That’s what’s going to put the wheels in motion, my friend.”

  Fredo heard background talking.

  “Sorry, I gotta go. Give him my cell, would you?”

  Chapter 7

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  WHEN THE TWO SEALs crossed the Golden Gate, the bright red of the girders contrasted well with the perfect blue of the sky and the grey waters. Fredo had always loved this view of the City on a nearly clear day. The white buildings of the city’s skyline, along with the red and the blue, always gave him a patriotic boost. It was a welcome feelin
g. He was doing good. He was helping people live their ordinary lives, which included sailing, shopping, and walking the bridge. People from all over the world took the trek as if it were a right of passage.

  “You know how they got the bridge built, Fredo?”

  “Something about getting tourists up north? Devon or someone was talking about it,” answered Fredo. He was grateful Coop was allowing the conversation to drift from all the problems brewing.

  “Some engineer wanted to bring traffic up to the redwoods and the Russian River resort areas. In those days, people had to travel all around the bay and come up the other side or by ferry, and some came by steamer to Petaluma, all the way to downtown via the Petaluma River.”

  “There used to be a ferry to Treasure Island, too” said Fredo.

  “Yup. Ferries all over the place. Before cars were used. Now we go zipping around when it took people a whole day to travel up north. How things have changed.”

  “And stayed the same. I’ll bet the Gold Rush spurred a lot of that.”

  “Fortunes lost, fortunes gambled away, and fortunes won. San Francisco has a sordid history. Would be interesting to go spend a few days sometime and look over the maritime museums here. They dig up ships all the time when they build new buildings in the City. Lots of history. Half the financial district was part of the bay at one time.”

  Fredo examined the green hills and turnoff to the art community at Sausalito. “That guy was right. Damned pretty up here. You come up, and you want to stay.”

  Coop chuckled. “I’d say it’s snagged some of our buds.”

  “Wasn’t the guy who designed the bridge from Sonoma County?” Fredo asked.

  “That he was,” said Coop. “You see those pictures of the cars crossing the bridge? He’s the guy in the top hat in the middle. He did a favor for the whole North Bay.”

  “But they got a lot more cars.”

  “And a lot more revenue. I think he went into banking, was a friend of the Stanfords. It was his theory more business could be done if they didn’t have to ride the ferry from San Francisco.”

  “Smart man. I guess it worked.”

  “Danny was telling me there is oral history among the Natives in this area about the land being connected, and then during one long migration they came and found a bay there. Scientists think it was caused by an earthquake.”

  “I’ll bet that was a shock,” said Fredo.

  They took the turnoff north of Healdsburg, traveling the winding road which cut through green and golden hills of lush grapevines. They’d decided this time to stay at Zak and Amy’s Frog Haven winery, the new project the SEALs were involved in. Nick and Devon were adjusting to life with their toddler and were in the midst of finishing up crush. Coop suggested they do a little sweat equity for the couple. Fredo knew it would be good for him to put all his concerns out of his mind with the manual labor working in the vineyard would provide.

  As they neared the turnoff for Frog Haven Winery, Coop cleared his throat and asked the question Fredo knew was on the tip of his tongue the whole drive up.

  “So, when are you going to tell her?”

  “Not today.”

  “You’re playing with fire, Fredo. But then, I already told you it was a dumb idea.”

  “Worse if I don’t know what to say and how to say it.”

  Coop was going to interrupt, but Fredo cut him off. “Look.” He placed his hand gently on the giant’s forearm, firmly. “I know you’re doing what you think is best for me, and thank God I got a friend like you, Coop. But you’re gonna have to trust me.”

  Coop once again tried to say something.

  “No, Coop. Hear me out. Why ask the question before I’m one hundred percent sure I can live with the answer? I owe her that much. I don’t want to ask her until I’m certain I can behave like a gentleman with whatever her answer is.”

  “But maybe it’s not going to be that bad, Fredo. Would you give her some credit? She wouldn’t do that to you, man.”

  “Our hearts want to believe what our hearts believe, Coop. I gotta be okay if that’s not the truth.”

  “I just think you’re putting your mind in a double bend when you might not have to.”

  Fredo peered into Coop’s unblinking, bright blue eyes. “Might. You said might. We plan for every eventuality. I never thought this would happen, and then it did. I gotta plan for all the possible outcomes. All the possible outcomes. And then make myself adjust to what that is.”

  “Look at the odds, Fredo.”

  “I’m not a betting man, Coop. I’m not talking about odds. I’m talking about certainty. Things already are uncertain. I’m eliminating one unknown by being prepared for it.”

  He knew Coop could understand in time. Coop shook his head, looking up and smiling at their one-eyed former teammate, Zak, dressing more like a pirate every day. Zak had accepted his station in life. Fredo wondered if he ever could accept the fact that Mia had been—might still be—unfaithful to him.

  While Coop went inside with Zak, Fredo held his hand up as he dialed Mia.

  “Mi amore. You are safe?” she said in her sexy Puerto Rican accent.

  “Yes, Mia. Coop and I just arrived at the winery. You should see how beautiful it is up here.” He intended on keeping his conversation to the weather and the scenery, topics he thought would be safe.

  “Ah, well, we’ll take a nice romantic vacation up there someday after the little one is born. How was the trip?”

  “Uneventful and long.”

  “Poor Fredo. I wish I could give you one of my most famous naked back rubs.”

  Fredo found himself fantasizing about some of the things they’d done, covered in massage oil. Her fingers were adept at finding just the right spots that kicked his libido into overdrive. His dark mood was slipping away. That was making him hard, much to his surprise. Everything about Mia sent him wonderful places.

  “How are you feeling, Mia?” His voice was raspy.

  “I’m missing you too much. But my belly feels soft and warm. Your little one grows stronger by the hour.”

  That brought on visions of his dream.

  “Good. I miss you too.” His words stuck in his throat. His eyes filled with tears. The emotional reaction was unexpected. He’d run away from this delicate, lovely creature, and he was convinced, despite his worries and suspicions, that she loved him with all her heart. He wanted to ask her, Mia, why did you do this? But he couldn’t bring himself to. Not yet.

  “Missing me is good, mi amore. It will make when we are together again that much nicer…you’ll see. I promise.”

  No doubt she’d make it an occasion of a lifetime. He closed his eyes and willed his negativity to subside. Inhaling, he worked on his concentration, asking for clarity in the fog of emotions.

  “Fredo, is there something wrong?”

  His eyes popped open as his spine stiffened. He clutched the cell phone so hard he thought it might break. Again, he closed his eyes, inhaled one long breath, and answered her, “I’m fine. Just missing you is all.”

  “Three days. You’ll be back in three days, right?”

  “Yes, Mia. Two days here and one day driving back.”

  “I can hardly wait. I want to show you some little clothes I picked out today. And Shannon is helping me pick out some colors for the nursery. Luci and the kids came over today. You should see how well little Ali fits in. He and Ricardo are like brothers already. He loves Legos. Oh, Fredo, my love, it’s going to be a wonderful year.”

  “Mia, I want you to go careful on the buying things. We must save now.”

  “Yes, but I just wanted these little things to look at. It makes me so happy, mi amore.”

  “Let’s just be careful for a little while. Promise me, okay? We don’t have enough to waste it. Especially now.”

  “Yes, my love.”

  She nearly wouldn’t let him get off the phone. This was a routine of theirs, seeing who could hold on the longest, stringing the kisses and the goo
d-byes to minutes, sometimes many minutes. Today he was pretending to participate. And with each good-bye he felt more and more guilty. She was going to find out and had already suspected something was up with him. Time was running out and soon he’d have to face the truth about his suspicions.

  AMY HAD A light supper ready for them. Coop had already showered so Fredo followed, setting out his things in the spare bedroom he was sharing with Coop, then he joined everyone at the dinner table.

  The conversation was light-hearted and soon Fredo allowed himself to relax. He made a comment about Zak’s choice of costume. “You’re really taking on this pirate role big time, Zak.” Silence descended out while everyone waited for him to continue. “I mean that in a good way. You could use it in your marketing.”

  Amy took Zak’s hand. “We’re all proud of how he’s doing. He’s found his calling. I can’t wait for the tasting room to be built. This guy would be able to sell sand to Arabs.”

  “It’s a role I’m practicing for. I think it fits, since I have to wear the patch.” He smiled then leaned down and kissed Amy’s hand. “Truth is, I’m seeing more and more light in this eye every day. The images are still blurry though.”

  “That can happen, Zak. But best not to get your hopes up. It does mean you’re getting blood supply to that eye, though, and we like that.” Coop’s medic training rivaled what some physicians saw in Emergency Rooms every day.

  “You ever thought about what you’d do after the Teams, Coop? I think you’d make one hell of a doctor,” Zak answered.

  Coop chuckled, nearly spitting out his green beans. “Libby would like that, especially if I became a plastic surgeon.” The handsome SEAL smiled to his group of diners. “I just work it one day at a time. But Libby’s dad said if it wasn’t for some investment in some crazy winery, he might have the money to send me to medical school.”

  That drew a round of laughter.

  “Zapparelli wants to come over later, if you guys are up to it. He’s become a good friend,” said Zak.

  Fredo recalled the movie director-turned-winemaker coming over to cook pasta at Nick and Devon’s barely a month after terrorists had blown up his own winery. He’d been wrong about the gruff movie director. He was a hard-working guy who sized up people about as well as the Team guys did.

 

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