Running Off Radar, page 13
Yes, it was different from the Andes, in so many ways. Rose nodded. “It’s a temperate rain forest, you know. Hard to believe, so far north. Did you go on the tour yesterday?”
And with that, they were off into shared territory like old friends. Rose might not trust him again as a colleague in remote villages, but here they could at least talk. She barely noticed the boring lunch disappear between stories.
* * *
When Jack collected Maji from the entry point, handing her visitor badge over like he was delighted to see her, she wasn’t too surprised. Someone at his level would serve as liaison to other branches of the military. He was probably the official link to the state and local police, as well. She wondered how much he knew about yesterday’s incident at the harbor.
They strode briskly toward the air station offices, his steps long and hers quick to keep up. “How long have you been stationed here, Lieutenant Commander?”
“Jack. Except in front of the crew—you know.” He slowed a fraction. “Going on seven years. Took a two year rotation and fell in love. You know.”
She didn’t. “Sure. And before that?”
“Air Force. Always been a helo jockey, from the Osprey and Pave Low to the Pave Hawk. Flew my share of combat support, including some search and rescue. Wasn’t until Katrina I got to see what saving civilians was like. You want to do that full-time, Coast Guard’s your home. And it’s been a damn good one.”
That explained a bit—his easy self-confidence, secure in his boyish good looks and the charisma of authority. Today he wore a flight suit, rather than a Coast Guard uniform suitable for giving tours and doing paperwork. Too much of that probably came with his fill-in commander role for his liking. “Did you go up today?”
Jack turned his head to grace her with a conspiratorial smile. “I was hoping to log some hours. But then I got word of your visit—no offense—and a couple of squids coming in too. No offense to the Navy. I’ve seen SEALs work up close, and I wouldn’t cross them.”
“So you’re a flyboy with nothing against squids. Noted.” She wondered how far to push. “You don’t think Army Intelligence is an oxymoron, do you?”
He chuckled. “Not when it’s counterintel. Seriously, though, I got nothing against anybody who’s here to work as a team. And you impressed our local LEOs yesterday.”
“So you coordinate with the local LEOs some?”
“Sure.”
“Excellent. You know anything about two guys they arrested at the harbor?” Like what they were up to the day they Maydayed. “Or about the woman they were after?”
Jack stopped at the door to the lunchroom, which was labeled in true nautical fashion The Galley, and held the door for her. Maji sensed his manners were both automatic and a chance to gather his thoughts. Interesting. “That why we’re blessed with visitors today?”
Fishing. “I’ll have to defer the briefing to the Navy. Just thought you might have some insight, being dialed in here.”
“Well, my opinion’s free and comes with a money back guarantee.” When she only gave him a weak smile for that, he redirected her to the self-serve food area. “Grab whatever you like, and I’ll tell you a story.”
They sat in a corner, away from the few tables full of Coasties in their working blues. Hungrier than she realized, Maji tucked in. Jack smiled at her. “Air stations draw the best food service specialists.”
“Really?’
“Sure. They get to work above deck, as it were, with a view and solid ground. And they get to sleep at home with their families every night. The cooks we get rock big-time. How’s the pulled pork?”
“It rocks. Big-time.” Maji pulled on the iced tea in her cup, sucking down half through the straw. “Tell me that story, Jack.”
“Oh, right.” His amiability never faltered. Maybe he hadn’t been trying to distract her. “Well, the woman is Deanne Davis, co-owner of a fishing boat there at ANB Harbor. Native gal, troubled, I guess you could say.”
Maji held her peace while he paused to down a bite of food.
“She and her co-captain are both ex-addicts. Were, in Charlie’s case. Everybody thought he was doing well until a couple weeks back when he died. A real waste. Decent guy, good crew boss, but well—you know. Demons caught up to him, I guess.”
A convenient guess. “How so?”
“Well, he went out alone for herring eggs. That’s not unusual, gathering subsistence from your own private area. You know any mushroom hunters?”
She shook her head and kept chewing.
“Well, they’re notoriously secretive about where they find sought-after mushrooms. Anyway, herring eggs and Natives can be like that. Everybody has their favorite spots, and they only pass the secrets down through their families.”
“So he was out alone.”
“And had an accident. State troopers thought maybe suicide, given how high the rates are here, among Native folks and addicts especially. But his family doesn’t buy that, and I’m with them. He was on a good path, as they say.”
“What about the co-captain? Deanne.”
Jack shook his head, looking regretful. “Might have been too big a blow for her. Time off work is dangerous for people trying to stay clean, and she was really tight with Charlie. Like a sister and brother.”
“Not a couple, then?”
Jack smiled, then packed it away. “He wasn’t her type, if you get my meaning. Part of her troubles, frankly.” He registered her raised brow. “Oh, not like that. She could be a rainbow unicorn and I’d say right on, sister. But this is a small town, and even smaller if you’re Native. Last woman she got involved with dumped her hard, with big public drama. So I figure you mix grief and a little shame, plus a baseline of lonely, and maybe she made some bad choices with the help of those two Russian guys.”
“Russians, huh?”
“What? Oh, yeah. We get the ones with money here sometimes. Sport fishing and being a general pain in the ass. Police had to let them go, you know. Some diplomatic immunity bullshit.”
“Fuck. So they’re just back out on the street?”
“Yep. That’s why I got a call, and a fax with photos, like an APB. Any of my crew sees them, we let the LEOs know. Can’t have those jackasses assaulting our women, no matter whose protection they may have.”
Maji slurped the rest of her tea, waiting to see if Jack volunteered any more information. She assumed he knew they were from the boat rescued by his crew, if not him.
“You should try the pie,” he said instead. “If you still have room.”
She had cleaned her plate of the substantial lunch. “I always have room for pie. Do we have time?”
“There’s always time for pie,” he quipped back. Looking at his watch, he added, “And a quick tour, if we hustle. Get your coffee to go.”
She did, and they made quick work of their pie. Between bites, Maji said, “I heard you rescued some Russian sport fishers recently.”
“Oh, yeah, we had a call a couple weeks back. Saved the crew, all four.”
“Were these two jackasses,” she asked, using his word, “from that crew?”
He looked pensive. “Dunno. I’d have to check the log. Good question.”
She wondered if he knew the answer already. She stood. “Let’s hit that tour.”
* * *
As they headed outside toward the aircraft hangars, Maji sucked in a lungful of clean, cool air. “I can see why you’d want to stay here.” She supposed it wasn’t the Coast Guard station with the best view in the world, but it must be up there.
He chuckled. “It grows on you fast, Ariela.”
“Jack.” Maji stopped walking and waited for him to turn and come back to her. “I will answer to Rios, Ri, or Sergeant. Clear?”
He looked torn between chagrin and amusement. “Aye, aye, Sarge. I’m that way about Fitz, myself.”
“Aye, aye, Lieutenant Commander.”
The hangar where they housed and maintained the aircraft looked like a large, clean, and well-lit warehouse inside. Outside, just like a warehouse. From the threshold of the twenty-foot roll-up door, Jack proudly pointed out the perpetual safety checks and maintenance being conducted on the high-tech flying machines. “We may only have three Jayhawks, but they are all the latest models. And for every hour of flight time, they get four back here.”
He strode over to the closest one, which had a mechanic working inside it. “Our avionics techs do double duty as flight crew, so they make sure every bird is a hundred and ten percent ready for liftoff. Isn’t that right, AET Taira?”
“Aye, aye, Lieutenant Commander,” came the voice of the woman Maji could now see was elbow-deep in a tangle of cables pulled up through an opening in the floor inside the helicopter.
“Can our guest peek inside without getting in your way?” Jack asked.
“Back here’s off limits, sir. She’s welcome to the cockpit.”
Jack gestured to the door nearest them. “Climb in.”
Maji swung the door wide and clambered up into the seat on the right side of the cockpit. She took care not to knock the stick or move any other steering tools, in case they were connected to AET Taira’s work. The console between them, full of knobs and switches that made her consciously keep her hands and elbows tucked in, made her nervous too. And then there was the bewildering set of digital screens on the dash. How could the pilots keep up with it all? “Never been up front before,” she admitted to Jack when he slid into the seat on her left.
“And now you’re pilot. Best yet, you’ve got me for your copilot.”
She gave him a look. “I thought God was my copilot. Or is that dog?”
A chuckle from the back deflected whatever comeback Jack was working up. “Okay, AET Taira, tell us what’s special about this model helo.”
“The Coast Guard upgrades the standard JH-60 model Sikorsky so it can fly three hundred miles out, remain on scene for search and rescue up to forty-five minutes, and fly back three hundred miles, all on one tank of fuel,” she recited without looking up from her task.
Maji thought the delicate tangle in her latex-clad hands looked too sensitive to risk distractions, so she turned to Jack for follow-up. “Impressive. With what sort of payload, sir?”
“Outgoing crew of four: pilot, copilot, flight mechanic, and the rescue swimmer. Coming back in, up to six more adult-size people.” He paused. “AET Taira’s one of my best flight mechs. Best on avionics too. Puts in more hours than any other crew member here, and we’ve got over a hundred. That’s why they call her OT, right, Liv?”
“No, Fitz. Lazy people just call me by my initials.” She looked up from her work and met Maji’s gaze, giving no indication that she recognized her from their run-in on the dock. “Olivia Taira. And you are?”
“Sorry,” Jack jumped in. “Sergeant Rios, Army. Gonna have a couple Navy visitors shortly too.”
“What’d we do this time?”
“They’ll have to tell me before I can tell you,” he replied. Maji was impressed with how much they treated each other as peers, despite the considerable gap in rank.
AET Taira smiled faintly. “Bet you’ll be glad when the brass gets back. We’ll keep a helo on standby for you.” With that, she went back to her task.
Jack glanced at his watch and looked surprised. “Time to go.”
Maji caught something muttered from the diligent crewmember as she climbed out. Sounded like sense of urgency. Well, hers was motivated by wanting out of that snug cockpit. And then by jogging after Jack, who was already crossing back through the open door into the sunshine.
Jack detoured them toward another building on their way to the airstrip. “Gimme your cup.”
She handed her empty coffee cup to him and stood aside while he popped in through the door, then back out empty-handed. “Hey,” she said. “Restroom?”
He held the door for her. “Far side. Make it quick.”
“Nice gym,” she said on her return. “Now do we have to double-time?”
“Yep.” He set a relaxed pace, however, which Maji’s full belly thanked him for. “We have a hell of a CrossFit team here. Sent a crew to regionals in Portland last fall.”
Maji had noticed the corkboard with announcements, including the Workout of the Day. “The WOD’s not one of my favorites. I’d rather do burpees than power cleans.”
“Said nobody ever!” Jack laughed, then looked at her sideways. “Really? Well, you can always scale them.”
“Nah, I’d just pick a different WOD. Or make up my own. Actually, I could use a workout. Too many rest days lately.”
He nodded and slowed to a walk, looking relieved that the little plane on the horizon had not yet landed. “You find any downtime while you’re here, be my guest. There’s towels and PT clothes in the locker rooms.”
“Thanks. Open twenty-four seven?”
He gave her a broad smile. “Just like the rest of this place. Semper paratus.” Always ready—the Coast Guard motto.
Maji looked forward to the SEALs deplaning and filling her in on just what she needed to be ready for.
Chapter Twelve
The first SEAL off the little plane would blend in fine in Sitka, once he stowed away the two large bags he carried over his shoulders. He looked Asian, like a lot of the fishing boat crew in town. Lt. James Kim, she guessed. Kim was dressed in outdoorsy civilian clothes, with a little shaggy mustache and close-cropped black hair. SEALs, like all Special Operations personnel, came in a variety of sizes and styles, the better to blend in. So chances were he was her liaison for the covert side of this op.
The guy behind him, on the other hand, wouldn’t easily blend in anywhere. Lt. Kris Green was a tall, lanky Billy Idol wannabe in blue camo and shades. That spiky blond hair would stand out anywhere and be hard to forget in a town this size. Maji waited to get a better look at him, and when the lead guy started down the steps she did a double take. Holy crap. Kris—probably short for Kristina—shouldered the same amount of gear as her partner, with equal ease, and scanned the area with confidence before starting down the short set of steps. Suddenly the uniform made sense—if she was here under cover of being Navy Intel. The Navy, like the Army, had yet to publicly acknowledge their pilot use of female operators. Way to hide in plain sight, Amazon.
Not completely hiding her smile, Maji caught the woman’s eye and gave her a small nod. The woman removed her sunglasses and let her eyes scan first Maji and then Jack, returning finally to Maji. Her mouth turned up as she nodded back.
Jack stepped forward to greet the pair. “Lieutenant Commander Fitzsimmons,” he announced with a smile, offering his hand first to the man. “Welcome to Sitka, Lieutenant Kim.” After a quick shake, he extended his hand to Green. “And you must be the analyst.”
Green gave him a perfunctory shake. “Must be.” She looked at Maji. “And you’re Rios. An honor, ma’am.”
“Lieutenants Green and Kim,” Maji replied, trying not to look unsettled. “My orders are to assist you. Shall we go discuss how?”
“I’ve got two empty commanders’ offices for you,” Jack said, not appearing to have absorbed the honor comment at all. “Coffee, on the way?”
The SEALs passed on the offer and followed Jack into an ordinary looking office building. They all trotted up the stairs, pausing at the top to take in the hallway lined with framed photos and awards. Maji wondered if it was as weird for her two counterparts as it was for her, to see so much recognition out in the open. Not that the Coasties didn’t deserve it. But when a special ops team pulled off a mission, zero fanfare was considered a sign of success.
“Need anything while you’re here? Sweatshirt, hat, souvenir?” Jack asked, pointing toward the gift shop as they strode by it. When they reached the borrowed office and Lt. Kim dismissed him, Jack took the dismissal in stride. “I’ll be two doors down, buried in paperwork. Holler if you need anything. I mean it—anything.”
The surprises continued as the two SEALs dropped their gear on the office floor, pulled out handheld RF detectors, and started sweeping the room for bugs. They divided the work efficiently and with a minimum of words.
“Is that SOP?” Maji asked.
Lt. Kim shook his head. “We’ll bring you up to speed shortly.”
Two minutes later they conferred silently, and Lt. Green gave a nod. “Room’s clean. Sorry about earlier,” she added. “I assumed everyone knows who you are. Hope I didn’t jam you up.”
Maji laid her laptop on the large office’s round tabletop. “No harm, no foul. Nothing Jack couldn’t learn by Googling my name. Current news never mentions me, so he probably doesn’t remember.”
“Well, we never forget our own.” Lt. Kim’s statement sounded casual, the way any guy on her team would have stated something deeply felt. Her brothers in arms were funny that way. “And if we get a shot at Sirko, I’m psyched to have you on our team.”
And it was nice to have a team. Even if she barely knew them. SEALs, unlike the assets she’d been given for support on her last few missions, were 100 percent reliable. Delta and SEALs had different strengths and training, but they saw each other as two branches of the same outfit. “Likewise. Bring me up to speed.”
“Our working assumption is Sirko,” Green started, sounding like an analyst. “Cryptology and HUMINT both point to him.”
Maji wondered if their human intelligence source was Tom. And if they knew him as his Dmitry persona or by his real identity. For now, she just nodded.
“Sirko had an admiral in the Northern Fleet in his pocket before the crash,” Kim chimed in. “The comm we’ve been able to intercept suggests the same admiral is sheltering Sirko now. And providing a Navy sub.”
“The kind they use for tapping the underwater telecomm cables?” Maji asked. “Isn’t this a little far south?” The Bering Sea would be a lot safer for that type of task.
