Part 23 (1/2)
Senegar rocked slowly in his chair and said, ”The mother is living in Beverly Hills. She retired from the Hospital eighteen months ago.” Senegar paused for a beat and looked at the Admiral. The hard a.n.a.lytical eyes that had been burning so fiercely just a moment before looked somehow softer now. Senegar said, ”Listen Bill, I don't know how much you have heard, but the mother has cancer-stage four-it has metastasized into the bones. She will die soon, maybe not next month, or even next year, but the time is coming.”
The Admiral looked back at the screen. ”The girl knows this?” he said flatly.
Jack Senegar nodded, ” She knows alright. She has been living in one hotel room after the other-for years now. All she does is visit the mother, and obsess about that daughter of hers.”
”Daughter?” said the Admiral turning back towards Senegar now.
”Reed Goodman's child, the girl is called Carly.” Senegar paused. ”I am sorry Bill-I knew there were problems between you-I didn't realize how bad.”
”My fault Laddie, the years go by so fast. I should have asked sooner.” The Admiral reached inside his jacket and pulled out his hip flask. He uncorked it deftly with his thumb and tipped it back. He took a long swallow, then another. He allowed the whisky three seconds to hit home, then said, ”I think it is time we moved in Laddie.”
Senegar nodded. ”I concur. Let's green light DEVGRU, move the eyes in and give those friends of ours in Hawaii a fly by they will never forget.” The Admiral gave Parker a look. Parker nodded and a minute later he pulled his chair back and said, ”All a.s.sets in transit, the SEALS are wheels up and outward bound Admiral.”
Finally, the Admiral allowed himself a smile, ”Good work Laddie, I want this one tight and clinical-a by the numbers job-you understand
me?”
57.
Los Angeles, California When they got to Beverly Hills, Julia still hadn't gotten out of her meeting. Reed hated visiting his wife's office, the place gave him the creeps. It seemed like everyone in the whole office had an att.i.tude. First, there were the girl on the front desk, they couldn't be any snootier, like she had just dropped out of some Swiss finis.h.i.+ng-school, bounced her way through the pages of English Vogue and crash landed in West Los Angeles, with a migraine headache and a resentment so deep and sour it tore at her bitter little face. Then, there were the other folks, hurrying around in their designer business clothes, bl.u.s.tering loudly into their cell phones and headsets, like they were running the world. None of them had the time of day for a smile, or even a simple h.e.l.lo.
Reed sat in the reception area with Carly. He wasn't part of this world and never would be. For him, every day was dress down Friday-he had no meetings to, go to, no clients to glad hand and no diary to fill, unless you counted Carly's play date calendar that is. Julia liked to keep their daughter ”busy”. There was always something to do, an endless succession of friends to be visited, horse riding, music lessons, dance cla.s.s and Yoga for kids. Carly hated structured cla.s.ses, especially music lessons-she had tried just about every instrument in the orchestra, and still hadn't found the one for her. Reed suspected that she never would. The only thing Carly really loved was the beach and the ocean. She loved to swim and surf; she liked to play beach volleyball and go roller-skating along the sea front. As far as Carly was concerned, everything else was boring, and she fought Reed every step of the way, when she had to buckle down and do one of the very many things she wasn't mad about.
Meanwhile, Julia liked to be involved. The fact that she realistically had no time to be involved was of little concern to her. This meant the household schedule needed to be constantly updated, in ways that dovetailed with Julia's heavy schedule of corporate real-estate investment. The whole arrangement was an ongoing disaster that pleased no one-Carly pulled att.i.tude, Julia got none of the fulfillment she was looking for and Reed-well, he was stuck in the middle, trying to please everyone and getting frustrated. He had tried to explain to Julia how crazy it was to change schedules at the last minute, but she never listened.
So here they were again, sitting in the reception lobby of Westwood Investments, looking at magazines that featured glossy photo-spreads of super yachts and the kind of homes that only movie stars, or billionaire dealmakers lived in. The leather chairs in reception must have cost a mint; but they were very uncomfortable, they were designed to be looked at rather than sat upon. Reed stretched his feet out and layback, while Carly skipped around the lobby, in endless circles, in a vain attempt to vocalize some mindless dance tune she had heard on the radio. The snooty receptionist oozed hatred and all the while, power dressed executives swept by in their pinstriped finery.
None of them were Julia.
When at last she did appear, she was bright and cheerful and full of her usual bl.u.s.ter. Reed gave her a dark look, and accepted her exaggerated cheek kisses reluctantly. Telling her she was a flake would serve no purpose-he had tried it before so many times and she just didn't get it. Instead he summoned up a smile and said, ”So, let's. .h.i.t the beach then ladies.” Carly curved in from her circling dance and shouted, ”Rayyyyyyy.” The bitter-faced receptionist looked on wordlessly.
58.
The Pacific As Kellerman sank lower into the cold, black Ocean, her lungs pounded with the pressure of the stale air, compressed within her. Worse, she felt the bite of the dirty salt.w.a.ter cutting into her eyes; forcing its way into her ears and nostrils. Thoughts circled languidly thought her head-thoughts of the Academy. At fist she didn't realize the significance, but reaching down now, popping off her shoes and pants and wrenching off her s.h.i.+rt-not even bothering about the b.u.t.tons, she finally understood what was happening-she was working on autopilot. The long hours of training were finally kicking in-her unconscious mind was moving to save her life.
Free of her clothes, Kellerman felt suddenly alive-a new energy pulsing through her. She looked up-saw the glittering surface of the ocean tempting her towards it. The men with guns would be up there, standing at the rail, looking down into the water for any signs of life-she had to make distance before she surfaced-as much distance as she possibly could.
Looking up, Kellerman saw the black hull of the Nautilus looming over her. Her lungs were burning now. She felt the uncontrollable urge to draw breath welling up within her, the exhausted air in her blood pummeling her brain. The pressure was unbearable. Unless she drew breath soon she would drown for sure. She swam upwards with rapid strokes and impacted the hull of the s.h.i.+p rather harder than she had planned, the impact almost took her breath. She struggled to swim under the boat, feeling the barnacle encrusted bottom sc.r.a.pe against her bare flesh. She flipped over, pulling herself along, until the curved hull propelled her upwards.
As she broke the glistening surface and drew breath, the ocean swell washed her back against the side of the s.h.i.+p. The salt water engulfed her, choking off her air supply. The words of her instructor at the Academy rushed through her mind-A swim in the open ocean is dangerous, no matter, how light the conditions-a small wave can drown even the strongest of swimmers.
Kellerman burst through the wave, drew breath. But once again, the heavy swell washed her against the side of the s.h.i.+p. She recovered more strongly this time. She was alive, and whilst she was alive, she had a chance, but not if she stayed here. She struck out for the stern. Sheltered by the curvature of the s.h.i.+p, Kellerman knew that she was protected from hostile eyes, but only for the moment. If the pirates suspected that she was down here, they would probably start tossing grenades into the water-there would be no protection from that-she was trapped, vulnerable-treading water in a bottomless ocean and over a thousand miles from land. Suddenly, the euphoria of life seemed less sweet than it had appeared just moments before. She needed a plan, she needed a break-she needed a long holiday, somewhere safe and dry-the farther from the ocean the better.
Fighting through the waves, Kellerman finally managed to swim around behind the s.h.i.+p.
She swam underneath the stern, where the overhang from the s.h.i.+ps superstructure offered more protection. With the engines running this would be a deadly place to hide out, but with the s.h.i.+p becalmed, there were things to hang on to, the rudders and the chains from the buoy winches. Swimming up to one of the giant rudders, Kellerman found a thin shelf of metal on the metal cross tail. After a little experimentation, she found that if she stood on it just right, she could cling on to the rudder and rest up. But she had to stay sharp. As the swell rose it lifted her feet clear of the ledge and engulfed her face in cold salty water. It was hard, dangerous going, the rudder was slimy, and the stench of fuel oil almost overpowering.
”You took your time didn't you?” Kellerman swiveled around, and almost fell of her perch, as an oversized wave blindsided her. Coughing and choking, she shook the salt water sting from her eyes and saw Buchanan's head bobbing close to one of the winch chains. She spat water and said, ”I thought you had a plan?”
”Listen, snippity-snip, you are alive aren't you?”
”No thanks to you genius. How long do you think it's going to be before the sharks get here?”
”They are here all ready,” said Buchanan, I have seen dorsals off the starboard bow; I am betting those snappers will be muscling over to play in no time flat. So don't be handing out no toungy kisses, or you'll have more new friends than you know what to do with.”
”What is it with you Buchanan? Why have you got to turn everything into some repulsive gag-I mean look at us-look where we are. Can't you give that nasty mouth of yours a rest?”
”It's called a sense of humor sweetheart, you should try it sometime.”
”There is nothing wrong with my sense of humor you knuckle-dragger. If you tried being normal for even a minute, you might find that out.”
Buchanan pulled a face, and expelled a long spout of water through his mouth, ”Nice to know,” he said. ”Now, if the lecture is over, here's what is going to happen-”
”Happen? This I want to hear. Are you going to swim back to Long Beach, and grab us a couple of cold ones?”
”If I wasn't on the wagon, I would take you up on that honey,” said Buchanan with a grin. ”Now, here's the thing, we can't stay here and much as I would like there is no way of climbing back on board. So, we are going to have to swim for it.”
”That has got to be the craziest thing I ever heard.”
”Yeah? Well hear me out,” said Buchanan.
Kellerman hung tight to the slimy rudder. It was as much as she could do to keep her head above water now. The constant attrition of the waves was beginning to wear her down.
Buchanan frowned, ”Hey, pull yourself together sailor, we ain't end of watch yet, not by a long shot. You and me are going to take a little swim over to the Wonsungi. We will haul up onto that low rising net deck of theirs and pull ourselves aboard. Then, just maybe, we can gain a little time to figure our next move.”
”I don't know if I can make it,” said Kellerman weakly.
”h.e.l.l, yes, you can,” snapped Buchanan. ”They will see us from top sides.” said Kellerman, ”They will shoot us, before we get even half way there.”