This time around Dick Cole met McGarvey in front of admin. It was noon, and McGarvey half-expected the captain to take him to lunch at the O Club so they would be on neutral ground, with witnesses in case something went wrong. Instead Cole walked around to the east side of the building and headed in slow trot down a dirt path toward some woods a hundred yards away.
No one was in sight, but in the distance—in the direction they were headed—the sounds of automatic weapons fire and the occasional sharp crack of a small breaching explosion drifted up to them.
Cole, dressed in Cryes and bloused boots, ran with an easy gait. McGarvey wore jeans, a light-colored polo shirt, and Topsiders. He’d been required to leave his pistol in his car outside the front gate. The day was warm and the path downhill was easy.
They ran in silence for a few minutes until they reached the woods, where the path split off in two directions. Cole took the route up a fairly steep hill.
“If you need to pull over let me know,” Cole said.
Rautanen was right—the guy was a prick. There were lots of his type in the military and as civilians in government; this didn’t make them bad, just self-important assholes.
McGarvey picked up the pace. “No, thanks,” he said.
If Cole was irritated he didn’t show it; he just matched the pace. “I was a little surprised to get your call. What can I do for you this time?”
“I came down to let you know what I’m going to do. See if you wanted to coordinate efforts. They were your guys, after all.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but there’s no way in hell any military organization on this planet, now or ever in history, could hope to keep track of all of its discharged—retired or otherwise—personnel. Logistically it’s impossible. Surely you can understand.”
“These guys were special, captain.”
“Nothing I can do.”
“They did a tough job for us, and now we’re just tossing them aside.”
“I’m following orders,” Cole shot back.
McGarvey had heard the same excuse before. Lots of times. “I figured you’d say something like that.”
Cole pulled up short and glared at him. “What the hell do you want me to do? Why the fuck did you come back here?”
“Just to let you know what’s in the works.”
“If it’s about my ex-wife, forget it. I told you before, she’s not involved. It’s not like her. She’s a bitcher, not a doer.”
“I hear you,” McGarvey said. “Do you want to know what I’m planning?”
“Frankly, no,” Cole said, and he took off up the hill.
McGarvey kept the pace. “His name is Greg Rautanen. A chief petty officer, out of SEAL Team Six for about three years now.”
“Never heard of him.”
“He was one of the operators on Neptune Spear. Bit of a basket case now. Wife left him, so he’s all alone.”
“A lot of operators come through here.”
“He’s agreed to work with me.”
“Doing what?”
“The same people who took out Barnes and Ridder and their families are coming back to finish the job. Only this time it’s me they want. And I’m going to make it easy for them. Rautanen and I are going to hide in plain sight.”
“Here in Norfolk?”
“That’s right. Possibly tonight.”
Cole stopped at the crest of the hill. Below them was an urban battle setting of a dozen concrete-block buildings Six operators appeared around the corner of one of the buildings. One of them did something to a door, then swung wide away from it. Three seconds later the breaching charge blew the door inward, and the six operators charged inside.
“You’re planning on instigating a firefight in some neighborhood, maybe get some innocent people killed?”
“Some innocent people have already been killed.”
“I suppose I could call the ONI, but I’d be wasting my time. The local cops might be interested. But maybe I should just keep my mouth shut and let it play out like you think it will. Get yourself and Ratman killed. For what?”
Bingo, McGarvey said to himself. “Because someone cares.”
Cole bridled. “Listen, you son of a bitch.”
“I’ll find my way back,” McGarvey said.
He turned on his heel and jogged back down the hill and up the other side to the admin building where Ensign Mader, who had picked him up at the front gate, was waiting beside his Hummer.
“Where’s Captain Cole?”
“He wanted to watch the end of a training evolution on the other side of the hill.”
The ensign, who’d been smoking, field-stripped his cigarette, placing the filter in his pocket, and drove McGarvey back to the main gate.
“The captain was seriously pissed off the last time you came down here. Took it out on us.”
“That’s your problem.”
“What the hell are you doing here, sir?”
“Ask the captain.”
“I’m asking you, sir.”
“Stay out of it, Ensign,” McGarvey said harshly. “There’s some serious stuff coming down that’s way above your pay grade. And when the shit hits the fan, which it will, anyone nearby is going to get dirty.”
But Mader was young and gung ho. “These are my people,” he shot back angrily. “I’m not just some fucking drill instructor. I go out on deployments. I’ve been plenty dirty before. And I expect I will be again.”
“We all will,” McGarvey said. But there was no way in hell he was going to tell the kid that he suspected Cole was selling them out. He just couldn’t think of a reason for it.