Chapter 25

A loud resounding rumble startled Fay from her slumber. She bolted upright in her bed. “JP!” She cringed at the force of the second rumble; the window glass rattled in its metal frame. The war! Her heart pounded. No…wait.

Fay rose from her bed, crossed the room to the window, and cautiously pulled back the curtain. The sky was uncommonly dark for that time of the morning. The sky exploded in a flash of light, followed by another deep rumble. Again, the window rattled in its metal frame. She let the curtain drop back into place. Nothing more than a violent thunderstorm. Her head snapped toward the adjoining room door when she heard the door lock unlatch.

Pearce entered. “Mornin’, Fayzie,” she chirped. “There’s a big old ass storm brewin’ out there.” Pearce looked at her sister. “Y’all look like ya seen a ghost.”

“I just had the scare of my life.” Fay looked back toward the window. “I thought a war had erupted.”

“War? No war, see?” Pearce said, pointing to the front page of the newspaper she carried in her right hand. “War.” She shook her head. “Used to be, when I was small, war was nothin’ more than a fun card game. We grow up, and what do we get?” She flipped the newspaper onto a nearby table. “We get paranoia,” she pointed at Fay, “and freaked-out people.”

“Hey, was there anything in the paper about the Carr?”

“Not much. But it did say a Navy Lieutenant Commander yapped her flap to NCC and got herself into a vat of crap stew over it.”

“They actually mentioned me?”

“No, I added that part. Well, actually, I added the whole thing. There isn’t anythin’ about you in the story.”

“Anything else?” Fay asked.

Pearce thought for a moment. “Hey! Why not tell me about them dolphins again!”

Fay obliged her sister and appreciated JP’s attempt to divert her nervous stress.

Fay next placed a call to Major Henry requesting a complete and thorough forensic examination of Seaman Rodman’s remains. “A complete medicolegal. Microscopic, toxicological, the works,” she told Dr. Henry.

“I’d be happy to schedule it for you, Lieutenant Commander. Can I get back to you in a couple of days?”

“A couple of days for you to schedule the autopsy or a couple of days for the results?”

“Excuse me for being unclear,” Henry apologized. “I’ll get right on it. I meant I would have preliminary results for you in two days.”

“Thank you, Major Henry. I want this one put under a microscope.” She asked,

“You Army guys get overtime pay?”

“No, Fay, we’re just like you Navy guys. No OT,” Henry said. “Hold on.” He placed her on hold. While she waited for him to return, she drummed out her own rendition of a Fleetwood Mac song with her pen on the surface of the desk, as she listened to the music on the radio.

Dr. Henry returned. “I talked to my staff. They’ve agreed to do whatever it takes to put this one to bed. Will you give us twenty-four hours?”

“Twenty-four hours would be splendid, Doctor. Thank you so much. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

“Understood. I’ll call you as soon as I have something.”

Fay hung up the phone, and, with a hint of exasperation in her voice, she turned to Pearce and said, “It looks like we—like Mr. Rodman—have been put on ice for a few days.”

“In the words of the immortal Chan, ‘Waitin’ for tomorrow, waste of today,’” Pearce said with a sigh. Then, with an upbeat tone in her voice, she suggested, “Why don’t you get dressed, I grab Don, and we’ll have breakfast?”

Fay’s face brightened. “Good idea. Call Major Kim. See if he can join us. Say, around nine?”

The coffee shop in the Park Hyatt was busy. Yet Fay and her team managed to find a secluded spot.

“Have you made any progress with your investigation, Fay?” Kim inquired.

“Some progress. I have requested a thorough forensic examination of Rodman’s remains. It is my feeling the Army doctor may have performed a hasty autopsy biased by his assumption the death was accidental.” Changing the subject, Fay asked, “What news do you have regarding our crisis?”

Jangho lowered his voice to a whisper. “We’re receiving new developments on the issue hourly. President Ross will appear on American national television at twenty-two hundred hours Eastern Time to inform the American public.”

Fay also lowered her voice. “What happens to the people of South Korea?”

“The Korean population will be informed simultaneously by President Lee Ka Eun.” Major Kim’s gaze shifted down to the surface of the table. With passion in his voice, he continued, “The people of South Korea have lived in crisis since the Korean War. We don’t anticipate a panic on their part. Although our country has never been closer to war than at this moment.”

Fay remained silent for a moment and then asked, “Have you any news of E-Team?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t. I want to advise you all military and civilians deemed nonessential to this crisis are being evacuated from South Korea. If you feel your investigation is complete, I encourage you to leave ASAP.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you for your concern.”

Later that afternoon, Fay received a phone call from the secretary to the Honorable Lois de la Croix, the Democratic senator from Louisiana. Senator de la Croix requested a meeting with Fay at 13:30 the following day at The Westin Josun Hotel. The secretary was not specific about the nature of the meeting. Fay reluctantly agreed to meet Senator de la Croix. She did not feel she was given a choice.

****

Yongsan, Seoul, the same day

Admiral May said, “Operation Caspar will take on the element of a sting operation. Once we seize Rapunzel, the Russian ship will sail on to the rendezvous with the North Koreans under the command of an American crew.”

Operation Caspar’s planners had factored in the odds of probability and outcome in missions of this nature. It was highly probable Fletcher’s team would not make it to the rendezvous point. The result was predictable; the commandos would be captured or killed.

Admiral May explained that as the mission unfolded, they would receive more details. Egan surmised it meant the mission’s planners were making the plan up as they went along. This entire operation had been made possible by Faydra Green’s discovery of the data on the Carr. The flash drive had recorded the rendezvous’s encrypted coordinates between the Russians and the North Koreans—courtesy of Park He, the North Korean defense minister. Egan thought how proud Fay Green would be to know how important her discovery was to the mission. And if the op were a success, how vital a part she had played in stemming the tide of war. Sad, these were things she would never know.

****

09:10 hours, Park Hyatt, the next day

Major Henry called Fay with preliminary results from his forensic tests. “We’ve found two areas of interest, Fay. The first relating to Rodman’s hands, primarily the knuckles and the fingernails on his right hand. We found wood fibers, slivers, embedded in the skin and under the fingernails,” he reported.

“Could you determine the type of wood?” Fay asked.

“Mahogany, most likely.”

They’re mahogany wood slivers from the door in Nevada’s room, she thought. “And the other?” she asked.

“When we examined the deceased’s clothing, we found fabric fibers snagged on his belt buckle. Our analysis determined them to be gray.”

“Like a carpet fiber?”

“Yes, like a fiber from a carpet.”

“Anything else?”

“No, but we’re still working on it. These two things were what we’ve found so far. I’ll let you know when we have more.”

After thanking Dr. Henry, Fay hung up the phone. Pearce again had hit the mark. Someone must have surprised Rodman in Nevada’s stateroom. They had fought, as evidenced by the cut under his eye. Rodman had been knocked to the deck, as evidenced by the carpet fiber found on his belt. He must have been unconscious; maybe he was locked in the closet. As the ship had filled with water, Rodman had come to, probably revived by the cold water as it had flooded the room. He must have broken open the mahogany closet door, evidenced by the wood slivers embedded in his right hand. But he had been too late. He had drowned as he had tried to find his way out of what was by then a pitch-black ship.

“Well, gang, based on what I just heard from Dr. Henry and what I observed on the Carr, I believe I have a scenario. I may have the evidence I need to link Captain Nevada to the death of Seaman Rodman.” Fay ran the scenario by Winslow and Pearce then asked, “What do you think?”

“‘Theory like water, easy to make hole,’” Pearce quoted. “Y’all know as well as I, all sailors are drilled on movin’ about their ship in total darkness. Rodman could’ve been blind and still gotten off of the ship.”

Winslow continued, “Dr. Henry told us Rodman’s lungs were huge. The man was part amphibian. He could’ve held his breath long enough to get to the surface and back.”

Pearce said, “You was able to hold your breath long enough to swim from Nevada’s cabin to the surface. And y’all seen how buff Rodman was. Think about it for a minute, Fayzie. They found Rodman in the opposite direction of his nearest exit. He was headin’ the wrong way!”

They were right. Yet, no one could come up with a logical reason to explain Rodman’s illogical action.

Fay gave up trying to explain it and picked up the phone to dial the home phone number of Vern Towsley. “Hi Captain, this is Faydra. You’re talking on a secure line. I am sorry to disturb you at this late hour,” she said. “Sir, I may have evidence Matt Nevada is responsible for Rodman’s death.” She then recapped her clues and observations. She finished by requesting, “I would like permission to interview Captain Nevada.”

“Based on what I’ve heard, permission granted. Plan on interviewing Nevada. I’ll make the necessary arrangements for you. Go easy,” Vern cautioned. “Nevada is a respected officer. There won’t be any room for error. Know your facts and tread softly.”

****

13:30 hours, the Westin Josun Seoul, Seoul, South Korea

Fay left her name at the front desk and sat in the lobby to wait for Senator Lois de la Croix. She wondered what de le Croix had on her mind. It was the time of the day when Fay became drowsy if something was not stimulating her mind. She fought the urge to nod off, thinking any minute the Cajun Queen would appear.

It was 13:55 hours when Queen Lois entered the lobby. She briskly walked toward Fay. Although appearing stern, Fay detected a slight smile on Senator de la Croix’s lips. She knew the look. It was the look of someone who was going duck hunting. But that was how she remembered de la Croix. Lois had looked old, even when Fay’s dad was in office. Lois de la Croix always seems as if she is constipated. An absolute classic, a timeless woman, Fay thought. Fay looked at her watch. This woman is worse than I am when it comes to being on time.

She rose to greet Senator Lois de la Croix, an elegant woman, mid-sixties, five-foot-five-inches tall, with chemically colored auburn hair and tired eyes. She was a little on the heavy side, nothing a little lipo-sculpture wouldn’t cure. Fay imagined de la Croix had most likely held “babe” status in her day, although Fay’s mental image of the woman was more akin to that of the Queen of Hearts in “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.” Lois was a royal anal-retentive.

“Why, Faydra, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Senator de la Croix said, extending her hand. There was little warmth in either de la Croix’s face or her handshake. “How’s your father?”

Fay firmly shook de la Croix’s hand. “Afternoon, Senator,” she responded. She hated to lie, but when it came to de la Croix, or any politician for that matter, lying was justified. “My father is well, and he sends his regards to the lady Senator from the sovereign state of Louisiana.”

The senator’s lips cracked into something resembling a smile. “Please, Faydra, I have a private room set aside for our meetin’.” She gestured toward a hallway to Fay’s left. “This way.”

The meeting room was small but comfortable. Senator de la Croix offered her a seat, then spoke. “Lieutenant Commander Green, let’s cut to the chase. You’re investigatin’ the accidental death of Seaman Gregory Rodman aboard the U.S.S. Jonathan Carr.”

Fay nodded. No need to answer; Senator de la Croix has the facts. She could tell from the onset this would be a one-sided conversation. Senator de la Croix would lecture; Fay would learn.

“Frankly, I don’t necessarily care where y’all seem to think you’re headin’ with this investigation. Nor do I particularly care to know what you think you know regardin’ it.”

Mercy, that was a mouthful. Fay chuckled to herself. No wonder this woman got elected. Political doubletalk is her forte. She remained silent. Senator de la Croix has been a politician a little bit too long apparently, or perhaps she just needs to get laid.

“Seaman Rodman’s death, while unfortunate,” de la Croix said, “was accidental and nothin’ more.”

So, the old bat knew all about this and decided an accident was what it was.

“You’re a bright woman,” de la Croix continued. “In fact, I’ve heard you’re on a fast track to becomin’ one of the youngest lady admirals in the history of the U.S. Navy. I would hate for your illustrious career path to take an unfortunate wrong turn somewhere along the way.”

Threaten me!? A basic white girl who has not had her coffee fix today!? Fay nodded and remained silent. She had not liked de la Croix from the first time she had met her. She enjoyed her even less now. Ah, what the hell, may as well fire one across the old scow’s bow. “Senator de la Croix, career path or no, I must investigate this incident, regardless of whose toes I may step on,” Fay spoke up; it was something her dad would have said at a time like this.

Her impertinent response quickly drew the ire of de la Croix. The Senator’s nostrils flared; her eyebrows arched. “You listen to me, little lady, and you listen well.” Her open palm smacked the surface of the conference table as she demonstratively drove her point home.

This woman comes to anger quickly. Maybe this is where she bellows, “Off with her head.” It was something the Queen of Hearts would have said at a time like this.

“I don’t need to hear of your platitudes on duty to God and country. I know duty. I began servin’ your country while you were still in diapers, Missy,” the Senator snapped.

One more time with this little lady/missy bull crap and de la Croix will be missin’ her own damn head, Fay thought. At times, it was hard to remain respectful with one whom you had so much disrespect for.

Senator de la Croix leaned forward to emphasize her following statement. “I don’t give a flyin’ rat hump whose fair-haired daughter you are…or on which admiral’s pillow you’re currently layin’ your head. But I know all hell is about to break loose here in Korea. I also know a scandal regardin’ any branch of the military would not rest well with any senior officer or the American public at this juncture.”

Senator de la Croix continued to lecture while glaring directly into Fay’s eyes. A weaker woman would have looked away from de la Croix. Not Faydra Green. She wondered which admiral de la Croix had her sleeping with and what the heck a “flying rat hump” was. Lois is not only belligerent, but she has her facts all screwed up. And they send these people on fact-finding missions?

“They don’t give a frickin’ flip right now,” de la Croix continued. “What they care about is a war and not much else. Am I makin’ myself clear, Missy?”

Fay straightened in her chair. Clearing her throat, she said, “Crystal clear, Senator de la Crow.” The mispronunciation of her name would not have gone unnoticed, but de la Croix retained her composure. Fay respected her for that.

“I would consider your next move very carefully, girl. I might add an arrest warrant, even for a simple traffic violation, may turn into an ugly mess, should the wrong people get involved with it.” Senator de la Croix glanced at her wristwatch. “This meetin’ has concluded. Think about what I’ve said.” A slight smile came to her face, and her eyes took on a hint of softness; she said, “Nice to see you again, Faydra. Have a pleasant day.”

Holy crap and mercy, de la Croix knows all about the speeding ticket. At least she has one of her facts right. But who is this admiral de la Croix has me sleeping with? Who the hell yanked de la Croix’s chain? Fay knew the answer to her question. She is right; the Navy does not want or need a scandal, not with the threat of war imminent. Accident or not, obviously, they want Rodman’s death to be an accident.

Senator de la Croix was one of the most powerful Democrats in the nation. Some felt she had what it took to be the first female President of the United States. Senator de la Croix had a lot at stake. Not only a ticket to the primaries, but several choice defense contracts for the shipyards in her home state of Louisiana hung in the balance. Whatever the reasons were, someone had pushed de la Croix’s buttons hard and had left it to her to deliver the message to Fay. She had little finesse—it was obvious—yet Fay did appreciate her directness. It saved a lot of time anyway.

Fay returned to the Park Hyatt, concerned about her ordeal with Lois de la Croix. There was a message for her at the front desk to contact Major Kim ASAP. She went immediately to the house phone and dialed his room. He sounded distressed and asked to meet her right away.

Shortly after, Major Kim arrived in the lobby. He looked as distressed as he had sounded on the phone. Immediately he spoke. “I’ve received some disturbing news. Captain Nevada was found dead in his room, late this morning.”

“What?!” Fay quickly collected her thoughts. “I’m stunned. Next time you might prepare me before you break the news like that to me.” She did feel faint. Unsteady, she walked to a nearby chair and sat. After catching her breath, she said, “Details, please, Jangho.”

He sat in a chair adjacent to her. Softly he said, “He was murdered. The hotel staff found him on the floor with his hands cuffed behind his back with a single bullet wound in the back of his head. His room was ransacked. It was either a robbery, or someone was looking for something.”

“They were searching for the information I retrieved from Nevada’s stateroom,” Fay offered. “And now it’s on me.”

Kim replied, “We are fortunate in that regard. No one knows you retrieved any information from the Carr.”

“If I had a penchant for cursing, which I do not, I’d say ‘Oh shit’ right now. But I will not say it.” Fay slowly shook her head. So much had happened in the past several hours. She quickly regained her composure. Her game face was back on. With a measure of frankness in her voice, she said, “Major Kim, my investigation has concluded. It’s time I went home.”

Kim looked relieved. “I’ll make the necessary arrangements for you,” he said. “I’ll contact you later this evening with the details.”

She patted Jangho on the shoulder. “Thank you. You have proven to be a loyal friend.”

Fay returned to her room. Pearce was waiting patiently for her. Without so much as a “hello,” Fay snapped, “Come on. Contact Mr. Winslow and pack up; the investigation has ended.”

“I don’t understand, ma’am. I thought we was onto somethin’?”

Fay could understand the puzzled look on Pearce’s face. Still, without giving her an explanation, she simply responded, “I guess not. Rodman’s death was an accident.”

Pearce would know better; she also knew when to remain silent.

Fay felt compelled to explain her reasons. “JP, I want—” She was interrupted mid-sentence by a ringing phone.