“This is different than a medical discharge, is it not?”
“Yes, it is. I’ve never seen one of those before. Well, I shouldn’t say that. With the budget cuts it’s fairly common in the regular Navy, but not in the Special Forces.”
Kennedy wavered for a moment, wondering if she should have the ensign call General
Heaney at home, but knew the general needed sleep as much or more than she did. She decided it could wait until morning. Kennedy asked the ensign for a piece of paper and wrote a note for the general. She paper-clipped it to the top of the folder and handed it to the ensign. “Would you please put this on the general’s desk for me?” Kennedy gathered her things and decided to let the rest of the files wait until morning.
230
She had to be in Skip McMahon’s office at 8 A.M. for a meeting.
Arthur and Nance stood outside talking and smoking their cigars for about forty minutes. During that time, O’Rourke and Coleman speculated as to why the national security adviser would be talking to Arthur.
From their spot atop the gazebo they became more and more curious.
Finally, Arthur and Nance went back inside. Several minutes after that, they heard a car drive away. Shortly after that, the guard standing watch by the cliff took his dog and headed back for the house.
Coleman scanned the entire yard thoroughly and told everyone to sit tight for a couple more minutes to make sure they hadn’t missed anything. When he felt comfortable, he lowered his mike and said, “All right, let’s work our way back to the boat. Sound off if anything comes up, over.” Coleman slid off the roof first and lowered himself down onto the chair. O’Rourke followed and put the chair back at the table where they’d found it.
They both huddled next to the row of hedges and looked at each other. For at least the tenth time in the last forty-five minutes, O’Rourke said, “God, I’d like to know what in the hell those two were talking about.”
“So would I.” Coleman looked around the yard and grabbed his mike.
“Cyclops and Hermes, this is Zeus.
Do you read, over?”
“Yes, we read you, over.”
“Where are you, over?”
“We’re getting ready to go down to the water, over.” Coleman looked across the yard.
“I’ve got something I want to check out. It shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes. We’ll meet you back at the boat, over.”
“That’s a roger, over.”
“What’s up?” asked O’Rourke. “When I was driving around today, I noticed that there was a big place for sale several doors down. It looked kind of rundown, like no one was living there. As long as we’re here, I want to look around. Let’s stay low and keep quiet.”
They ran toward the other side of the yard crouching next to the hedges. No fence separated the two yards, only a tree line, but Coleman and O’Rourke stopped anyway.
They scanned the yard with their goggles and looked for motion sensors. They found
231
none, and all of the lights in the large house were off. Crossing the yard, they reached an old wrought-iron fence and stopped. “This is it,” said Coleman.
“Let’s walk the fence line and see if we can find a gate.” They walked away from the
Bay and toward the house, their goggles lighting the way for them.
They’d only walked about thirty feet when they found a hole. Two of the wrought-iron bars were missing and a gate had been created. They stepped through the opening and onto a thinly worn path that moved through the trees and weeds. After about thirty feet, it opened into a huge, wild yard the size of a football field. The grass was almost up to their waist. Looking up toward the house, they studied the dilapidated mansion. All of the windows on the main floor were boarded up, and the surrounding vegetation looked as if it was attempting to swallow the house. “This place has been empty for quite a while,” said Coleman.
“They can’t sell homes like this anymore. The taxes alone have to be a half a million dollars.”
“Follow me, I think there’s a service drive over here.” They trudged through the tall grass, staying by the trees.
Adjacent to the main house, and behind a row of tall hedges, they came across a small shed and a dirt road. They followed the path to the main road and stopped at the service gate. Next to the gate was a good-size servant’s house. The windows were also boarded up. They heard a car approaching and ducked down behind some bushes. The car grew louder and louder, and then its headlights lit up the night air.
The undergrowth and trees were thick, and with their dark clothing they were not in danger of being seen. A Mercedes passed and continued around the turn.
Coleman rose from the bushes and inspected the gate. It was a smaller version of the large wrought-iron gate for the main drive to the mansion. It swung open from the middle and was chained and padlocked.
Coleman inspected the lock briefly and then checked the hinges.
Turning to O’Rourke, he said, “I’ve seen all I need, let’s go.”
“Would you mind telling me what you’re thinking?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’m just trying to get a feel for things …. Let’s go.” With Coleman in the lead they worked their way quietly down the service drive, through the tall grass, and back to Arthur’s neighbor’s yard. From there,