Free Submerged by Alton Gansky

“Maybe we stumbled into someone else’s
investigation.”
    “You mean like FBI, ATF, that kind of
thing?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Why wouldn’t Whitaker just tell us that?”
Janet asked. “Why not just say, ‘Look, the Feds have something
going on up there, and we’ve been asked to give them some elbow
room’? He looked more than a little put out, if you ask me. I don’t
think he enjoyed telling us to forget the whole thing.”
    “But he did, and that’s what I’m having
trouble swallowing. There’s still a man missing up there and a
family waiting to hear from us. What about them?”
    “It’s not our decision. There’s nothing we
can do about it.”
    Carl said nothing. Instead he ran a finger up
and down the glass handle of the frosty mug. He had yet to drink
any of the beer.
    “Don’t go there, Carl,” Janet warned. “I know
that look. We’ve been told to stay out of it.”
    “They handcuffed me with my own cuffs and
took my weapon.”
    “Whitaker said the department would replace
everything we lost.”
    He raised his eyes. “They can’t replace my
honor.”
    “Oh, brother! Men and their honor. We have
nothing to be ashamed of. We were outgunned.”
    Carl lowered his eyes. She was right. They
did everything they could. They played by the book, and the book
didn’t help. Two cops caught off guard by automatic-toting soldiers
or militia or whatever they were didn’t stand a chance. So why
didn’t he feel better? Why couldn’t he just accept it and move
on?
    He leaned back and rubbed his eyes. The smoke
and weariness were getting to him. Lowering his hand, he opened his
eyes and looked across the table. Janet was staring at him, concern
chiseled into her features.
    He offered a weak smile. “Maybe I should just
call it a night. I’m bringing you down.”
    Janet shook her head. “I came here looking
for you. Stay a little longer. We can split some nachos.” She
paused. “I need you right now, if only for an hour.”
    He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the
table. “You got me.”

    Finn MacCumhail had his seat belt off seconds
after the Boeing jet landed and began its taxi off the runway and
along the tarmac. He straightened his tie, ran a hand through his
hair, and took hold of his briefcase and waited. He waited with the
patience of a confident man, a powerful man, an unquestioned man.
It took less than five minutes for the Boeing to roll to a stop. He
knew that it was close to a hangar where the private craft could be
stored until called upon again. Finn even knew the hangar. He had
committed the base’s entire layout to memory, as he had its chief
personnel.
    Two minutes after the wheels stopped turning,
one of the pilots emerged and opened the door. The stairs lowered,
bridging the distance from the door to the concrete tarmac below.
At the foot of the stairs stood two persons in uniform. Finn raised
his head and descended the steps.
    “Mr. MacCumhail,” a trim man with piercing
eyes said. “I am Colonel Brian Cassidy. I hope you had a good
flight.” Finn knew the colonel’s height was six feet, his weight
175 pounds, and he hailed from North Dakota. He had graduated from
the Air Force Academy third in his class.
    “It beats commercial airliners, Colonel.”
Finn studied the other officer, a woman, who had come to greet him.
She was two inches shorter than Cassidy.
    “Major Megan Ramos, Mr. MacCumhail.” She
bungled the name, but Finn didn’t bother to correct her.
    “I assume you’ve received instructions.”
    “Yes, sir,” Cassidy said. “Everything is as
you’ve requested. Our base commander apologizes for not being able
to be here to meet you himself. He was called to the Pentagon.”
    I know. I’m the one who
called him . “Show me my quarters. I want to get some rest. I
leave at O-dawn-thirty.”
    Finn let them take the lead. Tonight he would
sleep. He had no idea when he might sleep again.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter7
     
     
    Perry stood as
strong