Liberty

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Maddock! Bonebrake! My office.”

Dane’s head whipped toward the doorway from which the voice had come, but its owner had already disappeared. Dane and Bones had been back in the barracks for a couple of hours, unpacking and swapping stories with their fellow SEALS about their R&R. They had decided not to reveal most of their adventures.

He hadn’t expected to hear from Commander Hartford “Maxie” Maxwell until the next day, but apparently the man wanted a word with them now. Dane didn’t like the tone of the words his commander had uttered. Maxie wasn’t given to issuing petty demands, instead commanding respect with firmness and leading by example. The only time Dane could remember such a tone directed at him was a few months earlier when he and Bones had engaged in a no-holds-barred brawl. He traded a glance with Bones, who shrugged and headed for the door.

Minutes later, they stood at attention in Maxie’s office. The office contained only a basic metal desk, chair and filing cabinet, reflective of the commander’s no-nonsense personality. The only personal touch was a framed photograph of Maxie’s sixteen-year old daughter.

Dane expected Maxie to eventually say “At ease,” but instead he characteristically got straight to the point. “You boys have a good time in Philadelphia?”

It was all Dane could do to keep his eyes trained on Maxie and not look over at Bones. Bones said, “Yes, sir! A fine trip.”

“Anything happen that you think I should know about?”

Dane and Bones remained silent.

Maxie alternated his hard stare between them, finally letting out a long exhale. “Maddock and Bonebrake. First you hated each other so much I had to force you to spend time together. Now you’re working together to leave a trail of destruction. I suppose you figured that because the cops were clueless, word of your exploits would never reach me?”

Bones opened his mouth. “Sir, I—”

Maxie cut him off. “Sailor, you make damn sure what’s about to come out your mouth is going to improve your situation. I don’t know which of you is the leader and which is the sidekick, but this is the second trip in a row where a trail of bodies has followed you. I’m waiting for a reason why I shouldn’t kick your butts out for good.”

Dane swallowed. “Sir, we stumbled onto something in Boston that reappeared in Philadelphia. We didn’t fire any shots that weren’t in response to being attacked.”

Dane went on to explain the broad outlines of what had happened. By the time he was finished, a look of curiosity had replaced Maxie’s glare.

“You expect me to believe all that?”

Dane couldn’t think of a response and kept his mouth shut. Bones made the rare decision to do the same. Eventually Maxie chuckled.

“Relax, I believe you. Who could make up a story like that? Lost documents? Secret groups? The mafia?”

Bones said, “I know, right?”

Maxie targeted him with a glare, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Bones, were you born this way, or do you have to work at being this annoying?” He held up his hand. “Don’t answer that.”

Maxie put his hands on the desk. “For what it’s worth, you did the right thing by not going public. In most places, a squeaky wheel gets the grease. In the military, it gets replaced. Or worse. But I’m wondering why I haven’t heard anything in the news about the document or the lost Library of Congress.”

Dane looked at Bones. They had discussed this very thing during the plane ride home. It hadn’t been a week yet, but somehow he had expected Marshall to have gotten the word out by now. Maybe it was just taking longer than expected. Or maybe something had happened to Marshall.

Or maybe he had no intention of revealing it. Maybe he had his own agenda. Dane felt certain that Marshall was not a member of the Sons of the Republic. It just didn’t fit. But Bones had suggested something that Dane wanted to dismiss out of hand and couldn’t. Dane could still hear the conversation in his mind.

“What if there’s another group out there? I’m not saying they were actively looking for the document, but maybe they can make use of it somehow.”

“Bones, not everything is a conspiracy.”

“How naive you are sometimes, Maddock. Did you see those guys with Marshall at the cemetery? Those weren’t mobbed up thugs, those were soldiers. Or professional killers.”

Dane hadn’t answered. Bones was right that they didn’t know the whole picture. Maybe there was a simple explanation.

Or maybe they’d stumbled on something else, another group set on grabbing power. Dane hoped not. Because these weren’t the Sons of the Republic. The Sons were somewhat dangerous yet only moderately competent. But a group with the skills displayed by Marshall and his men?

They could do some serious damage.