Silent Vengeance

Chapter 6

With headphones hanging around his neck, Grant was prepared to contact Mullins. He balled up a Snickers candy wrapper, tossed it into the trash, then finished off a small carton of milk.

"Think he's at the office?" Adler asked, as he took another bite of cheeseburger.

"He should be. If not, he'll have his calls forwarded." Grant slipped the headphones on. He set the frequency, placed the call, then adjusted the mike.

"Mullins."

"Hey, Scott!"

"Grant! Where are you?!"

"The carrier. We landed around noon. Listen, do you have any updates for us?"

"Nothing on your target. I didn't have time to tell you earlier, but NSA and CIA intercepted transmissions coming out of Bangkok, going to Olongapo. It's a town across the harbor from Subic and Cubi Point."

"Wait one, Scott. Let me put Joe on." Adler put on headphones, then plugged them in. "Okay, Scott."

"Whoever the individuals were, they discussed the production of a specific pill."

"Do we know who made the call, or who was on the other end?"

"The conversation was brief. No names were mentioned, but indicators point to that guerilla group, the PNA."

"Holy shit!"

"Thought you'd be thrilled."

"Is that what we're up against?! Are we …?!"

"No, no. Nothing's definite. You're to proceed with the original mission. I got some additional intel but nobody's sure if it has to do with drugs or your op."

"We're listening."

"The 'alphabet' folks went back over transmissions from months ago. Those initial chats between Bangkok and Olongapo went quiet just before Bangkok and Saigon started up."

"Saigon?! Is somebody suspecting 'Charlie's' involved?!" (During the Vietnam War, "Victor Charlie" was the designation for the Viet Cong, the VC.)

"Not yet. All I can tell you is those transmissions stopped, too."

"Damn! How many more 'players' are you gonna throw in the game?!"

"None for now, but I've got one more update. It isn't much. The image showing the plane is being examined more closely. They're trying to determine its design, plus looking for a tail number."

"I assume you'll contact us."

"Affirmative. Any idea when you're departing?"

"The chopper's due to lift off at 2200. We're figuring a four-hour flight. Are you updating the White House?"

"As soon as we're through here."

Grant drew in a deep breath. "Okay, Scott. Keep us posted. Oh, one more favor. Could you contact Matt and Rob at the Navy Lodge? I'd appreciate it if you kept them up to speed on our activities."

"Will do. Stay safe, guys."

"Thanks, Scott."

Grant and Adler took off the headphones. Adler pushed his chair back, rocking it on the two back legs. "The PNA?! Charlie?! Jesus! How the hell would we handle that?!"

"Don't know, Joe. How do we even prove they're involved in the incidents? They might just be making money off that shit to finance their operation. But right now, it's all speculation, and not our problem. One thing is for sure. Whoever we find at the target isn't gonna be too happy with our form of G2."

"Sounds like fun. I'm ready!"

"Joe, do me a favor." Adler nodded. "Talk with EOD's OIC (Officer in Charge). See if we can use the sat uplink in the 'locker' (EOD Locker) when it's time to contact Scott again."

"Problem?"

Grant stood and stretched his back. "No … just like to have more privacy, and not call attention to us using the radio room too often."

"Gotcha!" Adler glanced at his watch. "The guys should've finished going through the gear. So, what say we join them? I'll talk with EOD after we eat."

"You just finished off a double cheeseburger!"

"And your point is?!"

"Why the hell is everybody lookin' at us?" James asked, glancing around the mess hall.

"It might be the two of us," Adler answered, moving his thumb back and forth, indicating him and Grant. "'Lowly' officers."

"Just ignore them," Grant answered, picking up the last half of sandwich, piled high with roast beef. "Maybe for our next meal Senior Chief Slade would be kind enough to get us an invitation to dine in the Chief's Mess. How 'bout it, Ken?"

"Absolutely, boss! I'll see that it happens." Known for having the best food on any ship, the Chief's Mess, by tradition, required all personnel, including officers and even the commanding officer, to enter by invitation only.

"Captain Stevens?"

Grant swallowed a mouthful of milk. "That'd be me. Can I help you?"

"I'm Sid Edmunds, NIS."

Grant wiped his hands with a napkin, then shook Edmunds' hand. "Good to meet you." Introductions went around. "Is it okay to talk here, or would you prefer … "

"No, no. Here's fine." Edmunds slid onto the seat across from Grant and Adler. "I know you've got questions. Fire away."

"Have you come up with any explanation why just the carrier's being targeted?"

"Nothing definite, but possibly because it's the biggest target, carrying the most men. Look at the impact it already had. And I don't just mean on the Navy. You know the President released a statement to the press."

"Yeah. I also know there's a helluva lot riding on our mission to find answers, to have the bastards who did this pay for what they've done." Grant's jaw tightened, the intensity in his brown eyes made it obvious. The hunter-killer instinct had kicked in again.

"Would you like to hear something interesting about the pills?" Edmunds finally asked, getting the informal meeting started again.

"Sure. Sure. What'd you find?" Grant asked, continuing to squeeze one fist with the other hand.

"We were successful in getting men to turn in stashes, and that includes pills from other ships. Most of those men did it because they were scared. How many others dumped theirs, we'll probably never know.

"All the pills turned in were 6mm, colored red. From what I understand, those were distributed well before this last batch. Now, the pills the, uh, unfortunate men took were also 6mm, but were orange. I had both analyzed. Only the orange ones were the killers."

Grant processed the information. "That doesn't tell us much. They either came from different factories, or possibly the same factory, right?" Edmunds nodded. "So, all we can hope for is that our intended target has the evidence we need."

"That's about it."

Grant thought for a minute. "Isn't it possible that orange ones are still being stashed? Has the word been passed those are the killers?"

"It's always possible, and word was passed."

Grant shook his head. "It'd only take one man to come forward. Just one."

"By the way, we suspect the drugs came in on a COD. The one you arrived on was the first flight since flight ops were cancelled. Captain Conklin contacted Cubi and had it thoroughly searched before takeoff.

"Now, the kid who committed suicide was a storekeeper, which led us to believe he was the dealer. We've searched his lockers and the hangar bay thoroughly, but haven't come up with any evidence yet."

"If he was," Grant said, "I'd say he had a decent stash of money. I take it you didn't find any."

"No. That's another task, following a trail of money. We know his hometown was Coos Bay, Oregon. We'll check banks there and the San Diego area."

"I remember an incident years back when an embezzler mailed himself money, sending it to a post office box. Possible in this instance?" Grant asked.

"Very much so. I'll add that to the other possibilities."

"Last question. Have you interviewed contractors? They've pretty much got the 'run' of the ship."

"Not yet, but I'm expecting another NIS agent to arrive tomorrow. I've been told another will be going directly to Subic."

"Well, here's something else to 'throw in the pot.' Joe and I just had a conversation with our contact. NSA intercepted a transmission from Bangkok going to Olongapo, P.I."

"Why there?"

"Have you heard of the PNA?"

"Uh-oh. That's not sounding good."

"If that doesn't sound good, how about transmissions between Bangkok and Saigon?"

"Damn!"

Grant gave a slight wave of his hand. "Can't prove a connection yet."

"Not much to go on. But that would be a helluva lot of players in this game."

"Yeah, I know."

"Have you talked with the admiral yet?"

"He's next on the list, but the mission won't change, unless he knows something we don't."