Blood in the Marsh Page 18

  April 1998—Persian Gulf

  Nick was nowhere to be found so Michael wandered down to the galley thinking that maybe he should have another look around. Maybe he had missed something before. As usual, Cookie was running the galley in short shouts, doing three things at the same time. He stopped as Michael walked in and watched him look around. “Everything’s been scrubbed and polished. All ship shape.”

  Michael sat down at the small table Cookie kept along with the bulkhead and sighed. “Think I can get a cup of decent coffee?”

  Cookie grinned and poured Michael a cup of his special brew and one for himself. Michael sipped it and sighed. “Cookie, you ever decide to give up the life of a galley rat and you could make a fortune in the restaurant business. Your coffee alone would make you a rich man.”

  “Yeah, well, what would an old fart do with a lot of money? Been in the navy all my life, it seems. Now I can’t sleep without the sound of the engines in my head. Guess I’ll just stay where I am.”

  Michael put his cup down and leaned his head in his hands. “All that blood,” he mumbled to himself.

  “What?” Cookie gave him a funny look.

  “I said all that blood. Where did it go? That’s over five quarts!”

  Cookie made a face and yelled to one of the hands. “Hey! Stir that soup!”

  Michael looked over at him. “What’re you fixing?”

  “Tomato soup.”

  Michael grimaced. “Tomato? Kind of red, isn’t it?”

  Cookie’s eyes widened as he thought about Duncan and the missing five liters of blood. “Crap! Hey! Dump that soup and get me some chickens out of the locker!”

  Michael shook his head and stood up. Better find Nick before Nick finds the killer.

  The Present—Sea Island

  “Why were you worried about finding Nick?” Chelsey asked. “You didn’t really think Nick would kill the guy or anything did you?”

  Lyra looked at Nick and Michael and saw both their expressions change. Michael’s seem to become sadder and Nick’s harder. Chelsey looked from one to the other, overcome with curiosity.

  “So what happened? Did you find the killer?Lyra asked.”

  “Yeah, we found him.” Michael’s voice was quiet.

  “So?” Chelsey demanded. “Are you going to tell us?”

  Michael closed his eyes and leaned back. “It was about a week later…”

  1998—Persian Gulf

  Nick wandered through the crew quarters. The men in the bunks were asleep. Most men chose to spend their waking hours somewhere besides the close confines of the quarters. It made Nick think about the old saying about “sardines in a can”.

  For the past four days, he and Michael had not been able to turn up anything on Duncan’s murderer. The captain had told them in no uncertain terms that either they solve the case or he was calling in for a more qualified team.

  Nick glanced at the empty bunks as he walked. Some of the men had pictures of their wives or girlfriends taped above their bunks. Others had pictures of racecars and such. He paid little attention to the pictures. But something made him stop and turn around.

  The sheet on one of the bunks was pulled loose. In the service, that was not a common sight. A sloppy bunk was not something that was tolerated. He walked over, lifted the corner of the mattress, and pulled the sheet loose. Taped to the bottom of the mattress was a plastic bag. Inside it were three locks of hair.

  Nick’s skin crawled as a thought ran through his mind. Opening the bag, he extracted several strands of hair from each clump. Then he resealed the bag and put it back like he had found it, tucking the sheet in neatly.

  Acting as if he were merely taking a stroll, he wandered up to the ship doctor’s cabin and knocked on the door. Doctor Smithers opened it and looked at Nick in surprise. “Hello. What can I do for you?”

  “I need a favor,” Nick said. “Could you call the captain and ask him to meet you here?”

  The doctor hesitated for a moment but the look in Nick’s eyes prompted him to make the call. A few minutes later the captain walked in. “I need to know if these hairs came from the three victims,” Nick said, opening his hand.

  “Where did you get them?” the captain asked.

  “Sorry, sir. I’m not authorized to answer any questions on that subject. But I am authorized to complete this investigation and I need to know if these hairs did belong to the victims. Will you authorize the doctor to make that determination?”

  “Very well,” the captain agreed. “But I want a report if and when you find out anything. Is that understood?”

  Nick nodded and the captain left. He and the doctor went to sickbay and the doctor retrieved the three bodies from the small morgue. He checked each of the men. “Look!”

  Nick walked over and looked as the doctor held one man’s head turned to the side. On the back of the head, near the crown, it appeared as if a clump of hair had been cut. Quickly they checked the other two men. On each one, a locket of hair had been cut from the back of the head where the remainder of the hair would hide the shorn lock.

  The doctor clipped hair samples anyway to make a comparison. It was his opinion that they had a match, that the hair Nick had found had belonged to the victims. He thanked the doctor then called the captain and told him he might have a lead but he would need to see all the crew’s personal files.

  Grumbling, the captain authorized. Nick was shown into the data center and he scanned through the files, locating the crewman who was assigned to the bunk where he had found the plastic bag.

  “Neville Sharp,” he said to himself. “Well, Neville Sharp, I think you and I should have a little talk.”

  He started for the crew quarters and ran into Michael who had an odd expression on his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve got this real bad feeling, Nick. I think we should go to the bridge.”

  “You think our guy’s going to take someone out on the bridge?”

  “No, I think it’s worse.”

  Nick nodded. He was not about to argue with one of Michael’s feelings. They walked onto the bridge and were immediately stopped. Michael broke away and dashed over to check the sonar display. The technician looked up at him like he was crazy as Michael leaned over beside him. Then Michael ran over to the communications station.

  “Let me have a listen,” he said to the technician.

  The tech looked at the captain who nodded, so he vacated his seat. Michael sat down and fiddled with the controls, listening intently. Nick got tired of standing there doing nothing so he asked the captain if he could relieve the man at navigation just to have something to do. The captain gave permission to proceed and he took the position.

  An hour passed in which time Michael was hunched over his console with his eyes closed, a look of intense concentration on his face as he played the communications station like a musical instrument. Suddenly he looked up, hitting the recording device. “Listen to this!”

  Everyone turned to him as he hit the speaker. Static mixed with what might have been a voice could be heard. The captain walked over and looked down at Michael. “Sounds like a lot of nothing to me.”

  “No!” Michael shouted. “Didn’t you hear that? They’re planting mines! We’ve got to alter course, sir!”

  The captain crossed his arms and stared at Michael. “I didn’t hear anything and you are relieved, Lieutenant.”

  “But I’m telling you I heard it. Just listen again.”

  He played the recording one more time. Nick closed his eyes and listened, trying to hear something, anything. But all he heard was a garbled mess. That was all the captain heard, too.

  “I said you’re relieved, Lieutenant!”

  “Sir, I respectfully request that we transmit this recording. Let the specialists listen to it!”

  The captain had no desire to make a fool of himself, but memories of the Stark being hit by Exocet missiles last year from an Iraqi Mirage jet made him think twice. �
�All right, let’s get a team in here and transmit that recording, Lieutenant.”

  Nick looked at Michael and gave him the thumbs up. For the next three hours, the tape was listened to repeatedly; all the while, they remained on the same course. At last, the captain called a halt, ordering them to stay on course.

  “Sir, that is a mistake!” Michael challenged him.

  “Lieutenant, unless you wish to see yourself removed from the bridge you will be silent and follow orders!”

  “But you have to change course!”

  The captain ordered Michael to leave the bridge. Nick saw the look on Michael’s face and without being ordered, laid in a new course. He gave Michael a wink and Michael jumped up from his seat, shouting and cursing.

  Pandemonium broke out as the captain ordered Michael removed from the bridge. No one paid any attention to Nick who was quietly altering their course. Suddenly one of the other men noticed. “Sir! We’ve changed course!”

  The captain whirled around and looked straight at Nick. “Lieutenant, I will have you court-martialled!”

  The frigate shook as if it had run into a wall. Sirens sounded and everyone went to battle-stations. Nick and Michael were escorted off the bridge in the middle of the melee. As they started down the corridor to the brig, Nick whirled around and jabbed the MP behind him in the throat. The man gagged and went limp. Michael looked at Nick in shock as he dove at the other guard, driving him to the deck. One swift punch and the man was out cold.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Michael shouted as Nick grabbed one of the MP’s sidearms and jumped up.

  “I’m going to get that son of a bitch who killed Duncan before this damn ship sinks!” Michael took off after Nick as he ran toward the engine room. He burst in yelling, “Neville Sharp!”

  A tall, burly man with red hair and washed-out green eyes turned and looked at him. Nick smiled coldly and stalked over to him. “You’re Sharp?”

  “What if I am?”

  “Then this is for Duncan!” Nick let loose with a flying sidekick, knocking Sharp to the deck.

  The man rolled and jumped up, holding his stomach. “You think I don’t recognize you? I smelled you as soon as you came on board and it made my mouth water just thinking about ripping you up. Now I’m gonna tear your heart out, you little punk.”

  “You mean you’re not going to tear my neck open?” Nick taunted him. “What’s the matter, my blood not good enough? Who the fuck do you think you are, Sharp? Count Dracula?”

  Sharp’s eyes assumed as maniacal gleam and he bared his teeth at Nick. “You little piss ant! You don’t know who you’re dealing with. So come on, you want a piece of me, then come and get it. I’ll make that pussy Duncan’s death look like a picnic in the park. That squealing little pig. His blood even tasted like pussy.”

  “Nick, no!” Michael shouted as Nick tossed the gun aside and dove at Sharp.

  Michael grabbed the gun and took aim as Nick’s foot met Sharp’s head. The man staggered back then fell, blood gushing from his mouth and teeth spilling to the floor. He made a grab for Nick, pulling a metal shank from his pocket and waving it in front of him as he stood.

  “Hold it right there!” Michael yelled. “You’re under arrest!”

  “Fuck you, asshole!” Sharp yelled then looked at Nick. “Come on, pussy boy!”

  “Stop!” Michael shouted. “Nick!”

  But Nick was too mad to stop. He growled and moved in too fast for Sharp to react. His hand shot up, impacting with the base of Sharp’s nose, driving upward. Michael heard a crunching, popping noise then saw Sharp’s eyes roll back in his head. He was dead before he hit the floor.

  Michael ran over and grabbed Nick’s arm. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Nick? We were supposed to do this by the book.”

  Nick looked at him with anger still surging through his body. “We did do it by the book. My book!”

  Then he turned and walked away. Two days later, he and Michael left the Roberts and headed back to Washington. The manner in which the case was solved was never mentioned. All that mattered to the boys at the top was that it was taken care of. Moreover, they were assured that when and if the need arose, they had a weapon that had been field tested and approved. They had Nick.

  Two weeks later, Nick was given transfer orders. He and Michael met at one of the local bars to have a drink before going home for the weekend.

  “So, can you tell me where they’re sending you?”

  “I don’t think you want to know.”

  Michael’s eyes widened. He had heard the talk and wanted to believe it was just wild stories. He didn’t like thinking that the government he believed in and served was capable of such things as training men to be cold-blooded killers. What was worse, he didn’t want to think that Nick could be one of those men.

  “You could turn it down.”

  “And do what?” Nick barked a laugh. “Look at the big picture, Mike. My marriage is shit, I’ve got nowhere else to go, and this is all I know. Besides, you’re the one who’s always spouting that ‘service to our country’ line. Well, this is just another branch of service.”

  “Like hell! Nick, do you really realize what you’re getting into? If you take this step, you’ll be part of an organization that as far as our government’s concerned, doesn’t exist. You get in over your head and that’s it, man. No one’s going to come to your rescue. You’re on your own, out there doing all those dirty deeds the brass wants done but doesn’t have the balls to do.”

  Nick smiled and polished off his drink. “You know, for a brother-in-law you sure are a mother hen. Don’t worry. You just take care of Cari and give her all those little babies she’s always talking about having.”

  “Speaking of babies,” Michael grinned. “Looks like you’re gonna be Uncle Nick in about six months.”

  “You’re kidding? Well, congratulations. Listen, get your ass outta here and go home to momma. Tell her I’ll stop by the first of the week and see her. I gotta go take care of some personal business myself.”

  “You and Renee calling it quits?”

  Nick sighed and stood up. “Man, she called it quits on me a long time ago. I’m just finalizing it. See you later.”

  Michael watched Nick walk out then tossed a couple of dollars on the table and headed home himself.

  The Present—Sea Island

  Michael shook his head to dispel the memories and stood. “Excuse me.”

  Lyra and Chelsey watched him leave the room then Chelsey looked at Nick. “Thanks a lot, Nick! You could have told me, you know. Shit! He’s not only married but he has a kid? What kind of friend are you, anyway? If I knew a friend was running around on his wife I’d sure as hell tell the innocent women he was involved with that—”

  “She’s dead,” Nick said in a flat tone.

  “What?”

  “I said, she’s dead. She and the baby.”

  “Oh god! I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t know. I mean, I wouldn’t have jumped on you like that if…damn!”

  Lyra looked over at Chelsey, seeing the shocked and embarrassed expression on her face then looked at Nick. “What happened to Cari, Nick?”

  He looked over at her. “Listen, before I tell you there’s something else I want to say. I told Michael what I remember from what I read in Lucius’ diary and we both agree that there are too many similarities to what was written in it and what’s been going on around here to be coincidence.”

  “I’m not sure I follow you,” Lyra admitted. “I know there are some parallels, but it could be a bizarre coincidence.”

  “Not when you add up all the disappearances and the weird shit I saw in the woods,” Michael said as he reentered the room. “And the body we found.”

  “What disappearances and weird shit?” Chelsey asked. “What body?”

  Michael took a seat beside Lyra. She listened patiently as Michael told about the circles and mutilated animals. He finished by telling about the missing girls and the body the fisherme
n had discovered that turned out to be one of the girls. The cause of death had been determined as blood loss and the coroner said it was the wound to the throat that did it.

  When he finished, Lyra looked at Nick. “And you think that whoever is responsible for those things is also responsible for what happened to me.”

  Nick opened his mouth but she kept on talking. “And you think that all that is somehow connected to what Lucius wrote as well as what happened on that ship back in 1998.”

  “That’s pretty much it, yes.”

  “But there’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?” She looked from him to Michael.

  Michael nodded. “Yes. There is something else. It’s about Cari.”

  “I don’t really want to hear this, do I?”

  Michael took her hand and squeezed it. “Probably no more than either one of us wants to remember it. But I think it’s necessary. We have to discover the truth.”

  “Okay.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “Tell me.”

  “I…” Michael’s voice faded and he shook his head.

  “I’ll tell them,” Nick volunteered.

  “It was about a year after I got transferred. Michael was still in Washington. He and Cari had a little girl. They named her Melinda Nicole. She was about four months old. I got some time off in between assignments and came to stay with them for a week.

  “I noticed that Cari seemed a little tense as soon as I got there. I asked her what was wrong, thinking that maybe she and Michael were having problems. But she said things were fine between them. What was bothering her was a couple of calls she had gotten over the last month. Some man who would whisper in the phone, telling her he was coming to collect for his child.