Fallen Pride (Jesse McDermitt Series) (32 page)

Just then another door opened.
The President said, “Come in, Don. Folks this is Don Winter, Secretary of the Navy.”

We all stood up to shake hands with him and as he moved around the room, the President introduced each of us. He had a fantastic memory, it seemed.

He came to Jared last and said, “Son, I’ve been fully briefed on what happened to you and I wanted you here to apologize in person. Politics has no place on the battlefield and you were a victim of politics, nothing more. I have a paper in my pocket that once I sign it will change your discharge to honorable. But I have one question for you. What do you hope to gain from this?”

“Mister Secretary, sir,” Jared said. “If my discharge is changed to honorable, will that mean I can serve again?”

“Yes it does.”

“That’s all I’d want to gain, sir. To go back to my comrades and carry the fight to the enemy.”

“May I borrow your desk, Mister President,” asked the SecNav.

“Please do,” the President responded with a grin.

“Will you all please join me?” he asked as he walked around behind the desk. “Corporal Williams, front and center, please.”

He sat down at the desk, pulled a sheet of paper from inside his coat and signed it, then asked the President if he would witness it. Once the President signed it, the SecNav
stood and said, “Please raise your right hand and repeat after me, Corporal.”

And just like that, Jared was sworn in, with all the rights and privileges that go along with an Honorable Discharge. The SecNav shook his hand,
told him he had a week to report for duty then thanked the President and left.

“Congratulations, son,” said the President. “I bet there’s not a lot of Non-coms that can say they were sworn in, in the Oval Office.”

“No, sir. I wouldn’t think so,” Jared said beaming.

“Now, one last thing,” the President said. “Colonel?”

Stockwell stepped over to the President’s side and took out what I knew to be two medal cases and handed them to the President. “Petty Officer Thurman, I have here two medals that I’m about to give you. The circumstances of how you earned them can’t leave this office, but my signature is on both citations. I understand you were wounded when that rocket exploded?”

“Just a flesh wound, sir. A piece of shrapnel, is what Doctor Burdick said.
”

He opened one of the cases and turned it around. “This is the Purple Heart, Petty Officer. Given to men and women in the military who are wounded in action.”

“But, sir…” she started to protest.

“Are you
about to argue with the President of the United States on what he considers to be an enemy action?” asked Stockwell.

“No, sir,” Julie replied.

He opened the other case and I immediately recognized the Bronze Star with a V affixed to it. “Colonel, will you please read the citation?”

Stockwell opened a file he’d been carrying and read from it, “To all who shall see these presents, greeting. This is to certify that the President of the United States of America
, authorized by Executive Order on 24 August, 1962, has awarded the Bronze Star Medal to Petty Officer Third Class, Juliet Thurman, United States Coast Guard, for exceptional and heroic actions under hostile fire. On 4 June, 2006, Petty Officer Thurman displayed superb initiative, selfless courage and extreme valor in placing herself between the enemy and her superior officers when under attack by RPG fire. Petty Officer Thurman’s actions bring great credit upon herself and the United States Coast Guard. Given under my hand, George W. Bush, President of the United States of America.” Stockwell handed Julie the citation and both boxes. “Congratulations, Petty Officer.”

Julie looked at Deuce and he raised both hands. “I didn’t know anything about this, I swear.”

“You’re the first woman in the Coast Guard to be awarded that medal,” the President said. “Your quick thinking saved a lot of lives, mine included. I’ll never forget that.”

We ended our visit with the President and were escorted back out by Agent Bender. “You people be careful down there,” he said as we climbed into the van. “Maybe when I retire, I’ll come down and visit you.”

The drive to Quantico was full of excited talk and went by quickly. The President was true to his word. Oour interviews with the FBI only took an hour, as they split us up and we were each interviewed by different agents.

As we left Quantico, Deuce
asked Jared, “Since you don’t have to report for a week, how about staying on with us for a few days? We’d love to have you at the wedding tomorrow.”

“Good idea,” I said. “There’s still work to do on the island and you could use a stake to hold you over until Uncle Sam gets you back on the payroll.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ve sorta enjoyed being out there on that island.”

“So, it’s back
to you being a hermit?” Jackie asked.

I’d decided I wasn’t going to dwell on her leaving. “Hermit?” I said with a grin. “There’s almost 20 people on that island. I might have to spend some time in Key West to get away from the crowd.”

She smiled and said, “That’d be nice.”

Twenty minutes later, we were back aboard the G-5 and taking off. Stockwell motioned for Deuce and
me to join him once we were at cruising altitude.

“Smith’s still out there,” he said. “And he’s got to be getting frustrated, losing his hired killers, not to mention the money he’s paid them. Have you given any thought to postponing the wedding?”

“Not an option,” I said, looking across the cabin at Julie, who was talking to Doc and Jackie. “Besides, the whole team will be there and we’ll be armed.”

“There’s a lot of ways a bomb that small can be used,” he said.

“Not really,” Deuce said. “I had a long talk with Tony. He studied the transcript of Lothrop’s interrogation. He says the shape of the charge will have maximum affect in about a 40 degree arc, maybe less. So it has to actually be aimed. That means being on site to position it properly.”

“The wedding is the logical target though,” I said. “He blames you for his fall from stardom and probably me to a lesser extent. Taking us both out, along with his replacement and most of the team will be justifiable to a narcissist like him.”

“Working on your Psych PHD?” Stockwell asked.

“If you’d met him, you’d know,” I said. “The man thinks the whole world revolves around him.”

“Okay, but I’m going to request the Sheriff have two Deputies stopping everyone coming in the driveway to the
Rusty Anchor
.”

“Better add a third on a boat at the end of the canal,” I said. “A lot of people will come by boat.”

“Going to a wedding by boat?”

“It’s a drinking island with a fishing problem. Rusty’s having an open bar.”

We discussed other security options, but the simple fact that there would be almost two dozen armed SpecOps people at the wedding meant very little in the way of further security would be needed.

We landed at NAS Boca Chica
two hours later. Stockwell said he had some meetings up at Homestead for the afternoon, but would be at Marathon early the next morning. He arranged for Shore Patrol to take Jackie home to get a few things, before returning to the base. Until Smith was located, it was best for her, Doc, and Nikki not to stay at home. Rather than stay on base she asked if we’d wait for her to pick up a few things and go back to the island with us. The Shore Patrol took Doc, Nikki, and Jackie to their homes so they could get what they needed for an extended stay on the island. Thirty minutes later, we were idling out of the marina and headed home.

News of Julie’s awards and Jared’s reenlistment arrived ahead of us and everyone was excited for them.
Chyrel pulled Deuce and I aside once we tied up the
Revenge
. “I have some good news,” she said with a knowing smile.

“Smith was in a car wreck?” Deuce asked.

“Not quite that good. He deposited the money he withdrew in Switzerland into a numbered account in the Caymans.”

“How could he do that?” I asked. “He’d have to take it there, wouldn’t he?”

“Not necessarily,” she replied. “Most major offshore banks have branch offices in Miami. He went to a branch office there.”

“Is that supposition?” Deuce asked.
“Maybe he flew down there.”

“Nope,” she said. “His numbered account in the Caymans was one of the ones he did all those fancy transfers into. I’ve been monitoring all of them for activity. When I saw the deposit was made at the Miami branch, I hacked into their security system. Got him on video entering and leaving.”

“Great work,” Deuce said.

“I could transfer it out of the account if you want to mess with him a little.”

“No. Just keep monitoring it. He doesn’t know we know.”

There was a lot to be done at the
Anchor
, so Rusty left soon after we arrived. Tony, Grayson, and Simpson went with him to help out and keep an eye on things there. We had an early supper, assigned watch, and turned in early. Tomorrow promised to be a long day.

Jackie and I took the forward stateroom and Doc and Nikki took the guest cabin. I figured this might be the last night I’d see Jackie for a while, maybe forever.

“You’ve been pretty quiet all day,” she said. “Is something bothering you?”

“You mean besides a maniac with a bomb who keeps sending hired guns after Deuce?”

“Deuce and you, remember.”

“Well, that and you’re going away. Tomorrow might be the last time we see each other.”

“I doubt that,” she said. “Key West is my home now. This internship will last a year, but I’ll be coming back down here quite a bit. I only accepted it with the condition I be reassigned to Boca Chica when I’m finished.”

Still, I knew how fate sometimes threw a monkey wrench into anyone’s plans. I decided then and there to
not tell her how I felt until I knew she would be returning. “That’s good to know.”

“
Mind if I get a shower?” she asked rather seductively.

“Mind if I join you?”

She smiled and disappeared into the head.

We awoke very early. Earlier than we needed to. Jackie had an idea on how to kill some time, though. An hour later we showered again and dressed. I could smell coffee coming from the galley. I poured two cups and sat down at the settee, where Jackie joined me a moment later.

When Doc and Nikki came up to join us, I made omelets for the four of us. It was 0500 and the others should be stirring soon. Doc and I had work to do before we departed. The engines had been neglected
for the last couple of weeks and we needed to replace air, oil, and fuel filters and clean the water intake screens. While we were busy the women went up to the main house to see if Julie needed anything.

Deuce joined us, sort of. While the engine room on the
Revenge
is accommodating, it’s not the
Queen Mary
. Doc and I took up about all the available space, so Deuce crouched in the hatchway. “Anything I can help you guys with?”

“Just about done,” Doc said.

“Another cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt,” I said, handing my mug across the starboard engine.

A minute later, Deuce handed me a fresh cup as I was reinstalling the now clean water intake strainer. “We should be ready to go in 20 minutes,” I said.

“I’m still wondering if it’s a good idea to go ahead with the wedding,” Deuce finally blurted out. “If anyone got hurt, I’d never be able to live with it.”

Doc glanced up from where he was replacing the port engine air filter, “Cancel on the day of the wedding, dude? Only if you want to stay single forever. Don’t worry about it, we got your back.”

“What Doc said, Deuce. We know that’s when he’s going to try again, we know what he’s going to use and we know the approximate size and shape. Plus, and this is the important part, he doesn’t know we’re on to him yet.”

“Besides,” Doc added, “Tony’s at the
Anchor,
knows what to look for, and will turn the whole property upside down to make sure it’s not there.”

We finished up and joined Deuce in the cockpit. “I need another shower,” I said.
“We’re going to need to take more than one boat to get everyone to Marathon. Doc, will you let Trent know to get the Grady ready?”

“I’ll let him know,” Deuce said. “Doc looks like he needs to clean up, too.”

While I was showering, Jackie came into the head and said, “Julie has asked me to be her maid of honor.”

“Really?” I said, rinsing the shampoo from my hair. “I didn’t know you two were that close.”

“We’re not, really. I mean we’re friends and we talk sometimes. I don’t think she has a lot of female friends.”

I pondered that a second and said, “Now that you mention it, she doesn’t.
Hand me a towel?”

I dried off and got dressed again in clean jeans and a button down gray shirt. Deuce and Julie had already decided that everyone should dress
Keys formal, which meant no swimwear.

When Jackie and I climbed up to the bridge, some of the others came through the door and climbed aboard. I pushed the button on two key fobs and the doors slowly started to swing open.
I started the engines and let them idle for a few minutes. Trent started the engine on the Grady and soon we had everyone aboard the two boats. Pescador sat on the dock by the cockpit looking up at me. Deuce and Julie had joined us on the bridge and I turned and asked, “Was he invited Julie?”

She looked down at Pescador and said, “Yes, maybe his invitation got lost in the mail.” He started wagging his big tail.

“Well,” I said, “If you were invited, it’d be rude not to attend.”

He leaped into the cockpit then made his way along the starboard rail to the foredeck. “That’s everyone, Carl. Go ahead and take the lead.”

I suddenly had the thought that this would be the first time the island was completely uninhabited in a few months. Deuce must have had the same thought. “You think everything will be safe with nobody here?”

I looked over at him as I shifted the engines into forward. “
I was just thinking the same thing. I’ll make sure to have the guys sweep the island when we get back just in case.”

We idled out into Harbor Channel and turned northeast toward Harbor Key. Fifteen minutes later, we were heading south in Rocky Channel toward the Bahia Honda marker lights.
Turning southeast at Teakettle Key we crossed under the Seven Mile Bridge at Moser Channel and made a slow, sweeping turn to the east, before lining up on Rusty’s channel.

Minutes later, we were tied up at the
Anchor
. Rusty and Grayson came down to the dock as the whole team climbed up to meet them. “Welcome home,” Rusty said. “We got everything about set up here.”

“Where’s Tony?” I asked.

“Inspecting a shipment of clams that just came in,” Rusty replied. “He’s looked over my whole property, even my damn underwear drawer.”

We all walked toward the bar. “Everything’s secure, Deuce,” Grayson said.

“Thanks, Scott. And thanks for helping out here.”

“Don’t mention it. Anything for that old guy’s cooking. Tony was right. Best food I ever had.”

Jackie went with Julie to Rusty’s house and I headed toward the bar with several others. When we were inside I noticed Cindy sitting at the bar, rolling silverware in blue linen napkins. “Hi Cindy,” I said. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

“Julie invited me a couple days ago.”

“How’d it go at the bank?”

“Pam’s great. In fact everyone has been so helpful. She introduced me to several local business people, who are on the board of trustees. She told me that you had everything all set up months ago.”

“Not me, her,” I replied. “I just got the ball rolling. Were you able to find a place?”

“Narrowed it down to two choices today.
If you’re not busy tomorrow, maybe you can help me decide?”

“No, I don’t have anything scheduled,” I said. “What’s the two places?”

She told me about a property on Grassy Key, just east of Marathon and another property on northern Big Pine Key. I was familiar with the one on Grassy, but there’s so much vacant property on Big Pine, I wasn’t sure from her description.

“We’ll go out and look at them both tomorrow. I’m going to stay here tonight. What’s your fiancé going to think about you splitting your time at two extreme corners of the country?”

“Hans?” she asked. “He’s been really supportive.”

“
He’s German?”

“His father was. His mother’s Cuban. His real name is Johannes Schmidt
.”

Johannes Schmidt? Why did the name sound familiar? “You said he worked for the government?”

“A low level clerk at the embassy in Eritrea. It’s a tiny country in north Africa.”

“On the southern Red Sea, south of Sudan,” I said. And north of Djibouti, I thought.
Johannes Schmidt.

“You know it?”

“Never been there, but I’ve heard of it. Excuse me, I need to check on something.”

I looked around the bar and didn’t see Chyrel. I walked over to where Dawson and Sherri were sitting. “Either of you see where Chyrel went?”

“I saw her heading out to the deck with Jared and Charity,” Sherri said.

“Thanks,” I said and headed out the back door. Chyrel,
Jared, and Charity were sitting at a table talking to Dan Sullivan.

“Hey, Jesse,” Dan said.
“How ya been?”

“Doing well, buddy. You playing the after party?”

“Sure am,” he said. “How about a little sparring tomorrow?”

“Sorry, I have to go look at some property. Maybe you could talk Charity here into taking you on,” I said with a grin.

He looked at her and said, “You’re a fighter?”

She nodded and said, “Mixed martial arts, a little Krav Maga.”

“MMA I’ve heard of,” he said. “What’s Krav Maga?”

“Probably better you don’t know,” I said. “But since I know you’ll pry, it’s Hebrew. Means contact combat.
You’d be wise to pad up.” I turned to Chyrel and asked, “Did you bring your laptop?”

She rolled her eyes and I said, “Forget I asked. I need you to check something out for me. Meet me on the boat in a few minutes.” I left and went to find Deuce.

Minutes later we entered the salon and Chyrel had her laptop powered up at the settee. “Okay, who do you want me to hack?”

“The CIA,” I said.

“Are you nuts?” Deuce said. “Their security is the best in the world.”

“Not really,” Chyrel said. “I’ve hacked in before.”

“You have? When?”

“Just playing around to see if I could. No big deal. What do you want to know?”

“First I want to see Smith’s unredacted file. Then check embassy employee records in Eritrea for a low level clerk by the name of Johannes Schmidt.”

“Who’s he?” Deuce asked.

“Let’s go outside and let Chyrel work,” I said.

I poured two cups of coffee and the two of us climbed up to the bridge. “Okay, spill,” Deuce said. “Hacking the CIA is dangerous. Even for someone with her skills.”

“Let me ask you something. If you married a woman knowing she was going to inherit a lot of money with the plan to murder her later and you were able to pull it off, would you stop there?”

“I’m not sure I follow you.”

“Just a hunch. We’ve been going on the assumption that Smith is after you. Retribution for ruining his career. What if we’ve been wrong all along?”

“Now you’ve lost me completely. Who’s this Schmidt character?”

“Cindy’s fiancé. She just told me he’s a low level clerk in Eritrea. Know where that is?”

“In the Horn of Africa, on the Red Sea.
It’s rumored the government has ties to al-Shabab.”

“Yeah, it borders Djibouti,” I said.

Deuce thought for a moment then I saw the light come on. “Johannes Schmidt. Jason Smith? Man, that’s a reach.”

“Think about it under this light, Deuce. I changed my will a few months ago, before Smith was sent to Djibouti. If anything were to happen to me, the bulk of Alex’s estate would go into the trust I set up
for the fly fishing school for kids, with Cindy as the Executor.”

“And?”

“Assume for a minute that Schmidt is Smith. He marries Cindy and I’m suddenly dead. He’d be married to the woman who is Executor of a $7 million dollar trust. What if he pulled a ‘Downeger’?”

“Like when he murdered his first wife? Hmm, I see where you’re going. It’s still a reach though. The money would be tied up in the trust. He couldn’t get his hands on it.”

“No, but he could convince Cindy and the trustees to invest part of it. He could set up a shell investment company,” I said, guiding him.

“But, how’s he know you made Cindy your Executor?”

“He’s not without resources.”

We heard the salon door open and Chyrel called up, “Got something.”

We went down to the salon and sat down on either side of her as she pulled up Smith’s file. “I was able to get in and out undetected. I couldn’t download his file, but I was able to copy it and move it through several offices within the Agency, before siphoning it out through the FBI.”

It took us twenty minutes to skim through the file. The only connection we found was that he was fluent in German and Spanish. “You didn’t find anyone named Johannes Schmidt working at the embassy in Eritrea did you?” I asked.

“Yeah, I did. But you’re not going to like it.”

She opened another file. It was on Johannes Schmidt
, but not a low level clerk. That was just his cover. Schmidt was a deep cover operative for the CIA.

“Shit,” said Deuce.
“Got a picture?”

“Yeah, that’s the part you’re not gonna like.” She hit a few keys and Smith’s picture came up, with Schmidt’s name under it.

“Double shit,” I said.

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a reach,” Deuce said. “But hey, let’s look at the bright side. I’m not his target.”

“Screw you,” I said. “What do we do with this information?”

“Chyrel,” Deuce said, “How deep is this cover?”

“What do you mean?”

“If Johannes Schmidt were to disappear from the
Eritrea embassy, would his ID be good enough to set himself up somewhere in the States, like Oregon?”

“CIA fake ID’s are the best there are,” she said. “Yeah, he could start over in the States with it, but it’d be flagged by the Agency
if he disappeared and he wouldn’t be able to enter the country with it.”

“Getting a fake social security number using his cover ID wouldn’t be a problem for him,” Deuce said. “And getting into the country with another fake ID wouldn’t be either.”

“Should we tell Cindy?” I asked.

“There’s no need to right now,” Deuce replied. “If and when we catch him, maybe then. If he disappears completely, well, she wouldn’t be the first woman jilted at the altar. Better that than knowing your fiancé is a wanted murderer.”