Peter Savage Novels Boxed Set

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Peter Savage Novels Boxed Set Page 129

by Dave Edlund


  “I do,” Markley replied. “It may not be enough to get a conviction against Schuman, but it should ruin his chances of getting elected in November. My guess is, Schuman will turn on Meyers, make her the scapegoat. For her part, Meyers has already given us the name of her contact at the Portland office—Andrew Shooks. He’s had a lot to say about Meyers, but so far we’re only getting hearsay on Schuman’s role.”

  Peter nodded. “What about David Feldman?”

  “That will be up to President Taylor’s administration, assuming he wins re-election.”

  “Which is very likely if Schuman is disgraced,” Stephens observed. “We’ve scrutinized both campaigns, and although Schuman is favored over Taylor, his popularity is driven by a large fraction of pro-nationalist, anti-establishment voters. But there is also a large block of swing voters. And once Schuman is discredited, facing criminal charges and a possible conviction, those swing voters will shift to supporting President Taylor.”

  “Israel has always been a very close ally,” Jim said. “Even so, President Taylor does not take kindly to being played. I suspect the atmosphere between Washington and Tel Aviv will be pretty frosty for a while.”

  Peter folded his arms across his chest. “So, this all sounds good. But for the plan to work, it requires Duss to take the deal. Then, my friend Detective Colson,” Peter motioned with his hand to the detective, “plays her cards.”

  “Already briefed the Chief,” she said.

  There was a knock at the door, and Peter swiveled in his chair to see who it was.

  Markley addressed their visitor. “Agent Elizondo, this is Peter Savage.” Peter stood and shook the agent’s hand. Markley was standing now, too.

  “Well?”

  “After exchanging a few words with his attorney, he took the deal. That bastard is unbelievably arrogant. He didn’t spend more than a minute thinking it over. He said the USS Liberty files were simply the blueprint, confirming your theory.” Elizondo held his hand out toward Peter and Stephens.

  The agent continued, “He said Schuman was worried that if there was renewed publicity about the role President Johnson played in that incident—the fact he committed the U.S. military to supporting a pre-emptive attack on the Arab Coalition, including willingly sacrificing the Liberty and blaming the attack on Egypt to drum up popular support—then the press would be sensitive to Schuman’s collusion with Prime Minister Feldman to repeat that plan. Only this time, it would have been joint Israeli and American forces bombing and invading Iran, Syria, and Iraq.”

  “That’s quite the story,” Colson said.

  “Yes,” Elizondo replied. “As war spread—possibly even involving Russia—United Armaments, under the leadership of Claude Duss, would make billions from the sale of weapons. He claims to possess secretly recorded conversations with Schuman stashed in a safe deposit box. Based on what he shared, even if he suddenly decides not to cooperate, we have enough to get a search warrant. He must have anticipated that this could all blow up in his face.”

  “Naturally, the AG will downplay this deal,” Markley added. “As Special Agent in Charge, I’ll draft a press release pointing out the close cooperation between our departments. Of course, I’ll need a quote from you, Detective Colson, and from your chief.”

  Colson stared at the two FBI agents. She was amazed they seemed more interested in the optics than in actually catching the bad guy and stopping a plot that would have drawn the U.S. into a full-scale war encompassing all of the Middle East.

  “I assume you have what you want from Mr. Duss?” Colson said.

  “Yep,” Elizondo replied. “Signed, sealed, and delivered.”

  “Very well. Would you please escort Mr. Duss and his attorney in here? I don’t expect he’ll take what I have to say very well—better to have several witnesses. Besides, I owe Mr. Savage the satisfaction of being present when this comes to an end.”

  Elizondo nodded and, followed by Markley, left the room.

  “I suspect that memory stick you gave me contains the Liberty files?”

  “Yes. It’s evidence. Thought you would need it.” Peter expected a thank you, but Colson remained noncommittal.

  “There may be complications with that evidence,” Stephens said.

  “Such as?”

  “The government doesn’t want it released. Our request to declassify all of the documents have so far been refused. No one will even admit that the files exist.”

  “I could simply release them to the press,” Peter said.

  Colson worked her lower jaw, not pleased about this new revelation. “So, what you’re saying, is that even if I wanted to return this data to Mr. Savage, I can’t.”

  Stephens nodded.

  “Well,” Peter said, “someone should leak this information. Then the government would have to acknowledge its existence and explain why, after all these decades, they still don’t want to make it public. I can’t—”

  Peter was interrupted by the opening of the door. Wearing an orange jumpsuit and with his hands cuffed to a chain around his waist, Claude Duss entered, followed by his attorney and the two FBI agents.

  Colson rose and motioned to an empty chair. “Have a seat, Mr. Duss.”

  “What is this about?” his attorney objected. “We made a deal. Complete immunity from prosecution in exchange for my client’s full cooperation.”

  “Yes, that is my understanding as well. Agents Markley and Elizondo have explained that Mr. Duss is very happy to be a cooperative witness, including sharing secretly taped phone conversations with Abraham Schuman.”

  The attorney was nodding vigorously. “And my client is afforded immunity from prosecution for all charges associated with the alleged crimes. I am confident the tapes and testimony Mr. Duss will provide will be very damaging to Schulman’s defense.”

  Colson held up a finger. “Agent Elizondo, may I read the agreement signed by Mr. Duss?”

  Elizondo held it out, and Colson read through quickly. “Ah, here it is. It says that Mr. Duss is granted immunity by the Attorney General of the United States from prosecution for all federal charges.”

  The attorney’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “But the agents only mentioned federal charges—”

  “That is correct,” Markley said. “You do understand that the FBI has limited jurisdiction that does not extend to local policing.”

  “Which brings me to the point,” Detective Colson said. “Claude Duss, you are under arrest—”

  “You can’t arrest me!” he shouted and lunged forward. Both FBI agents grabbed his shoulders and roughly shoved him back into his chair.

  “You are charged with accessory to commit murder after the fact.” Duss’ eyes were wide and his teeth clenched.

  Colson turned to the attorney. “You should expect more charges against your client as the investigation progresses.”

  Duss faced Peter, veins on his temples bulging, his face flushed. “I’ll kill you!”

  Peter stood. He’d seen enough. Duss was slippery, but with a pile of serious charges coming, it would take a miracle for him to walk. Peter paused at the doorway and turned his head toward Duss. “Like I said before: you tried that already, and it didn’t go so well for you.”

  Chapter 52

  Bend, Oregon

  April 27

  Peter left the offices of the Bend Bulletin about 30 minutes after his arrival. The meeting was necessarily brief. He had nothing to say “on the record” and insisted his identity be kept secret. Upon meeting the reporter, he retrieved the second memory stick from the knife sheath inside his boot, having left the folding blade in his truck prior to entering the police station. The reporter accepted the data storage device with an inquisitive expression. He estimated she was in her mid-thirties, and based on what he found online she had a decent resume. Probably the most seasoned reporter he would find in Central Oregon.

  She listened carefully, taking notes and asking a few questions. Peter retold the events t
hat transpired in the mountains west of Bend, culminating in the Air National Guard shooting down the United Armaments attack helicopter. He knew she would quickly confirm the events and glean other critical facts from an interview of the base Public Affairs Officer. Then he walked her through the kidnapping and confrontation with Claude Duss at the test range in Eastern Oregon.

  “Crook County Sheriff?” she had asked, just to be sure.

  Finally, Peter handed over the memory stick. “The secret files—it’s all there. You need to draw your own conclusions, but this is Pulitzer material.”

  Without looking up from her notepad, she asked, “How do I tie Speaker Schuman to this conspiracy?”

  “Call Special Agents Markley and Elizondo, FBI, Portland office. I believe they are preparing a press release on the plea bargain struck between the Department of Justice and Claude Duss. I’m confident they’ll be happy to talk to you—on the record.”

  “You know,” she said, “Schuman has scheduled a vote in ten days to override the President’s veto of the Israeli Security Act.”

  “Sounds to me like you’ve got a tight deadline.” Peter stood. “You’ll want to go to press at least several days before that vote.”

  “How can I reach you if I have follow-up questions?”

  “You can’t.” He walked away, but stopped and turned to face the reporter. “One more thing. You might want to talk to Detectives Colson and Nakano.”

  The reporter tilted her head. “Bend Police?”

  “Yep,” he said as he walked out the door.

  He was running late and hoped that Kate wouldn’t be disappointed. Peter parked at his home and walked the short distance to Anthony’s restaurant. He entered the lobby and spotted her immediately. She was standing with her arms folded, scrolling through her phone.

  “I didn’t message you, and I’m sorry I’m late.”

  She looked up, her face radiant. She was wearing a yellow summer dress with a knitted shawl draped over her shoulders.

  “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled and Peter felt like a young man again, a feeling that had been absent for so long, it was hard to recognize at first.

  The hostess led them to a quiet table near the large windows looking out toward the Cascade Mountains. The Deschutes River flowed lazily only 50 yards away.

  “I phoned you several times over the past week. Where have you been?”

  Peter sighed. “It’s a long story.”

  Kate looked back into his eyes. “And you think I don’t deserve to know the truth?”

  Peter let the question hang until the cocktail waiter arrived. He ordered a bottle of Pinot Gris from Erath vineyard in Northwestern Oregon.

  Kate raised her eyebrows. “Well?”

  “I was up there.” He pointed out the window at the mountains. “And then I was kidnapped, but I escaped.”

  She twisted her mouth into a crooked grin. “I see. So you don’t want to tell me what’s going on.”

  The wine arrived, and Peter had the waiter pour two glasses. “It began when your roommate was murdered and ended up being a case of national security. What I said was true. Mercenaries tried to kill me, and I fled to the mountains so no one here would get hurt.”

  “Like what almost happened to me?”

  Peter nodded. “And what did happen to those people at Pinnacle.”

  “I was worried. The stories on the news said you were wanted for murder.”

  “It’s cleared up now.”

  “Is that why you asked me to have dinner? So you could set the record straight?”

  Peter met her gaze and felt his pulse quickening. “No.” He reached across the table and found her hand. It was soft and warm. “No, I asked you to dinner because I wanted to see you again. I wanted to tell you that the danger is over. And, if you’d like, maybe we could have dinner again.”

  Kate rubbed her thumb across the back of Peter’s hand. For reasons she couldn’t explain, even though she hardly knew the man, she felt comfortable and safe in his presence.

  She looked at the face across from her. When she’d seen it before, it was usually hard, the eyes cold. But not now, not tonight. The steel grey eyes flashed a hint of blue and glowed with warmth.

  Kate smiled. “I’d like that.”

  Author’s Post Script

  The USS Liberty incident is, to most Americans, a little-known historical event. I became aware of this tragic affair by a documentary aired by Al Jazeera in 2014 titled “The Day Israel Attacked America.” Here is the link where you can download the video: http://bit.ly/USliberty.

  In addition, there are many books retelling of the incident, along with this website that purports to be the official memorial site for the Liberty: http://www.ussliberty.org/index2.html.

  As you know by now, the Liberty was a U.S. Navy surveillance vessel stationed in the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of Egypt in June of 1967. The attack in broad daylight, deliberate and ruthless, should have been a low point in U.S.-Israeli relations. Except that’s not how it played out. The facts of the attack, as retold in Hunting Savage, are true—I did not embellish them. Based on recently declassified documents and voice recordings of Israeli pilots engaged in the action, it is crystal clear that the military forces of Israel knew from the beginning they were attacking a U.S. Naval vessel. Exactly why, remains a mystery to this day.

  It is equally disturbing that American aircraft were within range of the Liberty, capable of lending assistance and likely saving the lives of many seamen. Those aircraft were launched multiple times from the carriers America and Saratoga, only to be quickly recalled by the Secretary of Defense, Robert McNamara. Historians generally agree that the order to recall those planes originated with President Lyndon Johnson. The only explanation put forward for Johnson’s decision is that he did not want to embarrass an ally of the United States.

  That explanation insults the memory of the seamen serving aboard the Liberty, as well as all veterans.

  The prolonged nature of the attack, utilizing resources of both the Israeli air force and navy, is consistent with a determined effort to sink the surveillance ship. Given that the ship’s inflatable life rafts were machine-gunned, the orders must have been to make every effort to ensure none of the seamen survived. At the time, the Israeli government claimed their actions were a mistake, and inexplicably the Johnson Administration and Congress were willing to accept that explanation at face value. However, the facts of the incident, supported by voice recordings of Israeli pilots and air controllers, are not even remotely consistent with the action being accidental.

  Without a doubt, the USS Liberty should have sunk. It is a miracle and testament to the heroic actions of her Captain and crew that she remained afloat. The surviving crew and immediate families were sworn to secrecy by the U.S. government under penalty of a long prison sentence. Reporters were kept away from the stricken ship, and within a few months the incident was mostly swept under the carpet. The Israeli government issued an apology and eventually paid minimal damages to the U.S. government for loss of property and to the families of the deceased.

  Yet 50 years after this tragedy, the central question—why?—has not been fully and satisfactorily answered. Many historians have speculated that the Liberty and her crew intercepted radio traffic concerning the imminent invasion of the Golan Heights, and that this information could not be allowed to reach Washington for fear President Johnson would pressure the Israeli government to cease hostilities aimed at expanding the conflict. But this explanation falls short of explaining why U.S. aid to the stricken ship was repeatedly recalled, and why the Johnson administration did not insist on prompt and meaningful compensation from Israel.

  With a lack of transparency, conspiracy theories abound—trust in our government is eroded. The explanation offered in Hunting Savage is of my own imagination, but it seems to explain the facts better than any official explanation put forward over the past 50 years. The American public, as well
as the survivors of the USS Liberty and their families, deserve to know the complete truth; there can be no legitimate reason for failing to come clean on this.

  About the Author

  Dave Edlund is the USA Today bestselling author of the award-winning Peter Savage series and a graduate of the University of Oregon with a doctoral degree in chemistry. He resides in Bend, Oregon, with his wife, son, and four dogs (Lucy Liu, Murphy, Tenshi, and Diesel). Raised in the California Central Valley, he completed his undergraduate studies at California State University Sacramento. In addition to authoring several technical articles and books on alternative energy, he is an inventor on 97 U.S. patents. An avid outdoorsman and shooter, Edlund has hunted North America for big game ranging from wild boar to moose to bear. He has traveled extensively throughout China, Japan, Europe, and North America.

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