Free PMadriani 12.5 - The Second Man by Steve Martini Page B

don’t mind the SEALs, but I wish they’d keep their frog hogs at home,” he said.
    â€œWhat’s a frog hog?” whispered Joselyn.
    â€œShhh!” Akers didn’t want to tell her it was a term used to describe a female SEAL groupie.
    â€œWho is he?” said Henley. “Guy didn’t give me a last name.”
    â€œThat’s Akers. I told you about him. He helped us a lot in the early going, some of the early craft with field tests. Guy that went to Abbottabad.
    â€œThat was Cam Akers?”
    â€œYeah. I thought you knew.”
    â€œI know the name. I heard he got wounded. Something about a medical discharge.”
    â€œApparently not,” said the man from Stanford.
    Akers leaned into Joselyn’s ear, and whispered: “I think we better go. Come back tomorrow. Maybe he’ll be gone.”
    Joselyn didn’t want to leave. She wanted to see the thing fly. But Akers had her by the arm, with a grip that was cutting off circulation.
    They went around the back of the aircraft this time. Joselyn could tell that Akers didn’t want to talk to Henley anymore.
    When they cleared the v-­shaped tail fin at the rear of the drone, the guy from Stanford looked over and saw them. “Cam,” he said. “You didn’t take a wound on a recent mission, did you?”
    â€œNo. That’s a rumor goin’ around. Don’t know who started it, but if I find him, I’m gonna kick his ass,” said Akers. “Listen, we gotta run.”
    Henley turned and looked at him. “Good to meet you. You too, miss. Have nice ride up the coast.”
    â€œWhere are you staying?” asked Akers.
    â€œHere on the base,” said Henley. “Place called the Hacienda.”
    The sigh from Akers was palpable. Joselyn could feel the hot exhaust as it came out his nose.
    â€œHow long you gonna be around?” asked Cam.
    â€œNot sure yet. Why do you ask?”
    â€œJust wondering. Take care. Have a good flight back.” Akers and Joselyn moved toward the car. “That cuts it,” he said.
    â€œCuts what?” she asked.
    â€œNever mind. Tell you about it later,” he said.

 
    Chapter 13
    B ACK AT THE office, in our conference room that doubles as a law library, Harry, Herman, and I are brainstorming where we go next. Without some lead, we are helpless to figure out where Joselyn and Akers might have gone. We can’t even be sure they’re together. But if not, where is she?
    Herman has struck out on the latest information, the court file regarding the restraining order on Akers keeping him away from the family home.
    â€œI talked to the clerk,” says Herman, “but he couldn’t find the file.”
    â€œWhy not?” says Harry.
    â€œThey tell me the US Attorney’s Office intervened in the state-­court proceedings. They obtained a federal court order sealing the file.”
    â€œOn what authority?” I ask.
    â€œThey cited a section of federal law,” says Herman. He hands Harry a slip of paper with a number on it. Harry gets up from the table and goes to the stack of books behind his chair. A few seconds later, he is back with one of the volumes. He looks up the section, then he flips a bunch of pages and checks the title. “It’s part of the Patriot Act, national security,” says Harry.
    â€œWhy would they do that?” I ask.
    â€œHave to assume there was something in the file, perhaps something said during the hearing, they didn’t want made public,” says Herman.
    â€œCould have been something in the wife’s petition. Especially if Akers had been talking up details of his missions,” says Harry. “Think about it. She’s under the gun. She’s afraid he’s gonna end up saying something that draws some fanatic lone wolf to their front door bent on revenge. The petition could be loaded with details the government didn’t want out