| Subject: Storm Clouds Part Six |
Author:
Karen
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 13:51:17 12/04/07 Tue
In reply to:
Karen
's message, "Storm Clouds" on 18:16:06 11/24/07 Sat
Storm Clouds
Part Six
Following Friday afternoon
Late July
Reagan National Airport
Flight 1653
“So this dapper little man walks up to me, and hands me his card, and says ‘nice landing, Captain’. I look at the card and see he’s an attorney, so I think someone on the flight is already trying to sue me for scaring the stuffing out of them,” Harm chuckled as he repeated the story.
Mari and Merrick both laughed, then Harm continued.
“Anyway, he says ‘no, but he wants to buy me dinner’. Seems I’ve inherited this old house on the beach from a client of his. Anyway, long story short, I lived there in another life when I was a cocky young jet jock and now its mine. Trouble is it’s good for nothing more than a bonfire.”
“But there might be a few fixtures and things that I can strip off to help pay for the demolition, so I’m going out there tomorrow. Also there’s a small apartment added on the back and I’m going to try to fix it up for a weekend getaway. I can’t get a legal C of O on the place, it’s been condemned, but that sterile efficiency I’m renting is driving me nuts.”
“If you need help, I learned a few things about using tools on the family farm. I think I could use a day at the beach, Captain,” Merrick offered.
Harm took scarcely a second to consider the offer. It would give him the needed opportunity to get some background on the younger man. “Great, I could use some help. That door looks heavy, and I’d like to get it down in one piece. I think there may be a couple leaded glass windows too, but I couldn’t see them in the dark the other night. We’ll have to see if there’s anything left inside. The place is pretty much of a wreck.”
Just then the signal came from the ground crew to begin the startup checklist. “I’ll give you the address when we land,” he threw over his shoulder, as he turned his attention to the flight console and Merrick began boarding passengers.
Willoughby Spit
Saturday morning
0815
The brilliant sky reflected off the sparkling whitecaps, dancing in the light breeze that blew across the bay. Once again, the storms had scrubbed the world clean and left it shining. He allowed the thought of acquiring a small sailboat to play across his mind. No, too expensive, he decided. If this property turned into a major project, there would be no time or money for a sailboat. Anyway, he could always rent one.
Harm was unloading a folding ladder, and his toolbox, from the flat bed trailer hitched to his Lexus, when Merrick Stevens drove up in a small white sports car. Mentally Harm scratched one item off his list. It hadn’t been Merrick who’d followed him.
Holding out his hand, he addressed the younger man, “Thanks for coming out, Stevens. I’m not sure this is going to be much fun, though.”
The two men stood on the sidewalk looking up at the old queen of the neighborhood. The tattered rags of her shell hardly spoke of her glorious youth. Harm had seen illustrations of haunted houses at Halloween that looked more inviting. It was difficult for him to recreate the warm memories of his days here as a young man. In the brightness of daylight he gave up any thought of restoration.
He had walked the perimeter when he first arrived, lost in that bright and promising career of his youth, and the sadness of the event several years later that changed his life. Deep in reverie, he missed the fresh oil in the driveway, and the new padlock on the cellar door.
I see you brought some plywood, two by fours, and stuff” Merrick looked at the stack of wood and building supplies on the flat bed trailer. The back of the Lexus contained several plastic containers and a roll of packing material. “We can use some of it to package the door and those two front windows, and the rest to board the place up.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Harm replied. “Let’s get started.” He shouldered the ladder and started gingerly up the porch, hoping it would hold his weight.
It was an unpredictable operation, and it took more than three hours, but they were able to remove the door and matching windows intact. They’d been so heavily painted over the years that the wood was miraculously preserved. Harm figured he’d get a nice price from one of the renovation supply companies that specialized in parts from old houses. He was disappointed, however, once they got inside.
They extended the ladder to the second floor after discovering the entire black walnut staircase was missing. From what he could see looking around, every single piece of decorative wood and hardware, everything of value had been stripped from the second and third floors, including the hardwood floors. It left the structure with a flimsy feel, and an unhealthy creaking sound that wasn’t present when Harm lived here as a young man. He guessed this was the means Paul Singleton had used to pay for his medical care once he’d become sick and could no longer take in boarders. He must have sold off pieces of the house a little at a time. No wonder the city had condemned it.
The floors and trim were also stripped from the first floor, but plywood and cheap two by fours had been used to provide support. It was about the only thing keeping the building from collapsing and Harm wasn’t much interested in spending too long inside this firetrap.
They found two light fixtures in the downstairs hallway, another in the front parlor, and a fourth in the dining room. There were a dozen hand-carved and glass fronted cabinets as well as an antique stone farm sink in the old kitchen. A half dozen etched pewter doorknobs were still attached to three original doors scattered around the first floor. Quickly they removed everything they could find, securing the smaller pieces in bubble wrap, then placing them in a Rubbermaid container inside Harm’s car. The front door and windows were sandwiched between sheets of plywood. They wrapped the cabinets in plastic tarps, and secured everything to the trailer.
By 1400 they were ready to tackle the small apartment attached to the back. A former porch, it had been enclosed to provide a small living quarters. Harm unlocked the door and they stepped inside to assess the damage. This was where Paul had lived. The addition was only about twenty-five years old, and if it was repairable, he would stay here on the weekends until he could get a feel for the place.
A broken window on the beach side had allowed wind driven water and debris to collect inside. The flooring was a mess and a chunk of sheetrock had fallen from the ceiling due to a leaky roof. He would have to see if the roof could be repaired, otherwise using the place would be akin to camping out. Even with the roof fixed, it wouldn’t be luxury living with no electricity, but at least he could step outside and smell the ocean.
He had no idea what he might want to do with the property. Even if he could afford a house to match his newer neighbors, he wasn’t sure it was what he wanted. The lot was oversized and he had the zoning to put a multi family structure on the property. Frank’s investment group would be glad to partner with him. It was unlikely his neighbors would appreciate that option though.
Another suggestion had been a spec house. Build the McMansion that fit the emerging neighborhood. Something they could sell and split the profit. His bank account could certainly stand an infusion of cash.
Harm and Merrick spent fifteen minutes poking and prodding at the walls, ceiling, and floor, investigating the closets, and the remaining windows and doors for soundness before he spoke.
“I don’t think this will be much of a problem,” was Harm’s assessment. “Let’s take a look at that roof. If I can fix it with the two packages of shingles I brought, then nailing up a new piece of sheetrock on the ceiling should be easy.”
“If you have some heavy plastic sheeting I can tape it over that window. I don’t think it’s been broken long. The floor is messy, but not really damaged. The wood underneath is sound. It shouldn’t be difficult to have the window re-glazed, its only single pane,” Merrick added.
They walked back to the truck in companionable silence collecting the supplies they needed. Harm climbed on the low roof, and Merrick handed up the shingles and nails then disappeared inside with a roll of plastic and some duct tape. In minutes, Harm was tearing up damaged shingles and nailing down new ones.
The job finished, Harm tossed the remains of the old shingles off the roof, narrowly missing Merrick as he came through the door
“Whoa, now, you don’t want to have to break in a new flight attendant do you?” Merrick could have no idea what kind of thoughts stabbed through Harm’s mind with that comment. But the look on Harm’s face made him stop the playful banter.
Quickly descending the ladder to cover his discomfort, Harm stumbled halfway down when his foot slipped off the rung. Reacting swiftly, Merrick grabbed Harm’s upper thigh to steady him, and shoved his shoulder into the ladder to keep it from twisting. For just a split second, Harm stiffened. Webb’s prejudice flashed unfairly through his mind.
“You have oil on the bottom of your shoe, Captain,” Merrick commented coolly.
“Hmmm, wonder where I picked that up,” Harm replied absently.
The young man had been a good worker and had offered friendship. He’d learned little about him this afternoon except that he possessed a good work ethic, but it was unjust to treat him this way. Harm smiled tentatively trying to break the tension, then he continued his descent unaided. Reaching the ground, he studied the bottom of his shoe more closely than it deserved. Ultimately he shrugged, wiping the oil off in the sand and gravel of the half-dead lawn. It gave him a minute to regroup.
As if reading his thoughts, Merrick chuckled and added lightly, “And by the way, you’re not really my type.”
Harm just nodded, “Look Merrick…I…”
“I did have a reason for volunteering, besides a day at the beach and a chance to get my hands dirty,” Merrick his voice was suddenly uncomfortable, something significant lay hidden in the undertone.
Harm remained silent, wondering what Stevens had on his mind. He studied the young man openly. Merrick’s joking comment had broken the tension, but Harm felt mildly foolish for his reaction. He turned an inquiring expression to whatever Merrick wanted to tell him. He felt he was about to discover if Merrick’s troubled nature was personal or something more serious. Maybe he believed Harms façade, maybe Webb was right and he was the one they were looking for.
“Look, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Perhaps you’ve heard I sort of had a breakdown for a while,” he began.
“No, I didn’t hear that,” Harm replied truthfully. That wasn’t at all what Webb had told him, nor what he’d implied.
“My…best friend…my partner died in a crash several years ago. Tomorrow to be exact.”
“The Concorde?”
Merrick nodded. “We’d been best friends since grade school. I found I couldn’t fly after that. I didn’t want to trust the airline, any airline really. I went and stayed with my grandmother for a long time. Sounds like a silly thing for a grown man to do, doesn’t it, Captain?”
“Harm,” he invited. A conversation this personal wasn’t the kind he usually cared to participate in with anyone, but a first name basis would certainly encourage confidence.
“What?”
“Harm, my name is Harm. We aren’t flying now, and no, it doesn’t sound silly. Grandmothers have a way of giving comfort without getting hysterical like mothers do.”
“You, too?”
“Yeah, long time ago.”
Merrick nodded acceptance. “Anyway, I finally found myself again about two years ago, but it took a while to get a job. Eventually, Platinum Air was willing to hire me. I had left my last job rather abruptly and that sort of word gets around, you know? In any case, I was sure I’d get sacked when they went into receivership, but somehow I survived.”
“Probably because you’re good at what you do,” Harm commented mildly. He was gathering his tools, and Merrick helped him carry them to the Lexus.
“Thanks. A lot of people don’t notice us… the flight crew that is, except when we do something wrong.” He seemed less certain of himself in this setting; there was none of the funny, almost brash, personality he displayed while he worked.
Harm deemed it a personal style of camouflage. Maybe he still worried about flying, but couldn’t stay away. He knew that feeling. “You couldn’t stay away?”
“I guess you do understand. Was yours a crash, too?”
“Yeah.” he didn’t invite inquiry. Merrick just nodded and looked at the ocean for a minute.
“Pretty beach. I’m glad I came today.” He sighed heavily. “Don’t misunderstand, but could we walk out there for a minute?”
“Sure,” Harm replied, not certain what was on his mind, but certain his motives weren’t personal.
“I don’t want to be overheard,” Merrick gave half an explanation, glancing nervously over his shoulder.
They walked to the waters edge before the younger man spoke again. “You used to be in the Navy didn’t you, sir…uh…Harm?
“Yes,” Harm answered cautiously. “Why?”
“I just thought …well I thought you might know who to talk to...to tell about this.”
“What is it?”
“There’s this guy…this uh…passenger. Well, he’s made passes at me a few times and…”
“I’m not sure this is my department, Merrick.” Harm became instantly defensive.
“No, that’s not it.” he smiled quickly, dismissing Harm’s conclusion. “I’ve done this long enough to be able to handle that… it’s just…well …I know he works for that big ship builder...you know, in Newport News?”
“Yeah, I know.” The hair tingled on the back of Harm’s neck. “How do you know?”
“He told me…told me all about his job and how important he is… trying to impress me I guess. I sort of cut it in half…figured he was exaggerating a bit. Said he was liaison on a couple secret projects...that it was his job to brief the Pentagon and some other mucky mucks in D.C. I didn’t pay much attention, ‘cause I figured he was just blowing hot air,” Merrick waved his hand.
“So what ‘is’ this about?” Harm moved the narrative along.
“It’s just that once every few weeks he flies up to D.C. and then back at night. On the return trip, he often has the same man sit beside him, but they don’t come together and they always act like they don’t know each other.”
“Sounds a little odd,” Harm was having trouble containing his interest. Webb swore Patterson never sat with the same man.
“Yeah, but the funny thing is…you’re going to think I’m nuts…”
“No, go on,” he encouraged casually.
“Well, the other man goes to great pains to disguise himself.”
“Really!?” Harm stood a little straighter and looked hard at Merrick. CIA facial recognition software should have picked that up. “What makes you think that?”
“I’ve seen a lot of faces over the years. Except for my little hiatus, I’ve flown since I was nineteen. Some attendants never look at faces much, well at least not before 9/11, then they started training us to look more closely, but I’ve always studied faces. It’s sort of a game to make the job more interesting.” The lilt of his voice questioned Harm’s understanding.
“Go ahead.”
“It’s his eyes and something in his voice. He changes the sound and uses some realistic accents, even speaks several foreign languages, French, German, Arabic, Russian, very fluently,” Harm raised an eyebrow. “I flew on the Concorde as well, you pick things up,” he added with a shrug. “The point is there’s a certain cadence to his speech that he can’t disguise or doesn’t realize is there. I’ve seen him before I know I have. It was when I flew in Europe. I wish I could remember his real face. His eyes…they change color…contacts I suppose… but when he tries for the blues or greens, they look muddy. I’m fairly certain that a light brown is his natural color, but its more than that, it’s the way he uses them, the expression in them when he says certain things, asks certain questions, or just when he watches me serve. There’s something in his stare that makes me want to get away from him. Sorry, I’m not often spooked by people,” he apologized.
“Don’t worry about it,” Harm reassured him absently. His mind was going a million miles a minute. “Does he know you’ve recognized him? If you’re suggesting anything…”
“I’m not suggesting,” Merrick declared flatly. “I saw it…just once, but …welll...” He hesitated for a long moment suddenly unsteady about trusting anyone.
“Look maybe you should be talking to the police or someone,” Harm tried to sound casual. “A passenger in disguise…”
“That’s just it. The disguise is so good, I’m not sure anyone would believe me. I know security has all sorts of ways to check these things. TSA, Homeland Security, and all the rest. Maybe he’s innocent, and if I have him hauled off the plane…well…” he spread his hands.
“But you’re certain…you’re convinced it’s the same man.”
“I am. It’s just nothing I can easily prove. They’d have to arrest him and strip him. God if I’m wrong, just think of the mess! No, I was just thinking you might be able to tell me who to talk to,” Merrick’s tone was almost pleading. “Look Harm, I think this man is getting something from Mr. Patterson.”
“Patterson?” Harm played dumb.
“He’s the guy who works for the government. I know you think I’m being melodramatic but, damn it, I’m sure. I saw him give this other guy one of those little flash- drive thingies.”
“Are you certain, Merrick? Absolutely certain?”
“Yes! I was serving another regular customer. A professional travel photographer. He turned his laptop to show me one of his newest photos. It’s one of those expensive ones with a high resolution display and a smooth, shiny, screen. The light hit it just right and turned the screen into a mirror for about ten seconds. I saw it plain as anything in the reflection. I know what I saw, and I know what I believe. If this man is passing secrets the implications…”
“I know the implications. Look, I’ll have to check into how to verify this, but if what you say is true…” he equivocated, letting the thought hang. “If you don’t have enough to go to security, then don’t talk to anyone about this, not a co-worker, not even your best friend. I may know someone who can check it out. It might be nothing, but you could also be in a lot of danger if it’s true. Just don’t talk to anyone. Promise me,” Harm had the younger man by the arm and nearly shook him.
“I…I promise.” He looked down at his arm. “You do believe me don’t you? I knew you’d understand. That Colonel…you aren’t as far away from her as you tried to act.”
“Leave her out of this. She’s just a former friend.” Harms face froze. “Someone I used to know in another life.”
“Maybe,” Merrick replied cannily. “And whatever she was to you, she’s still burning a hole in your heart, isn’t she?”
“Some fires just won’t go out,” Harm replied automatically, failing to protect himself for a split second. “Doesn’t matter though, she belongs to someone else.”
“I doubt that,” Merrick stated flatly.
Harm looked at the young man hard. “What would you know…” then he stopped. He hadn’t meant to be rude.
“Her face,” Merrick answered with sad understanding. “When you told her you were dating Mari she looked…”
“Angry and unconcerned,” Harm interrupted.
“That too, after a moment, but for the first split second it was in her eyes, like the bottom had dropped from some last chance in her world.”
“That’s not what I saw.”
“You were too busy watching what Patterson was doing, but I saw it. It might be hard, but you should at least talk to her, Harm. If I’m wrong I’m sorry, but I don’t think I am.”
“You dispense advice to the lovelorn with refreshments?” Harm asked caustically.
“Take it for what its worth,” Merrick replied forlornly. “Let’s just say experience is a vicious teacher. We’d had a fight, something petty and stupid. As often happened we’d missed each other on our flight schedules for a few days. The next thing I knew he was dead.” Merrick turned towards the sea letting the wind dry his cheeks.
Harm gave him a long hard look. He’d never liked delving into people’s lives, no more than he’d ever cared to share his inner thoughts. He had no idea what made him share this. “She was my partner at JAG, and my best friend. We trusted each other, always had the others back.”
“What happened?”
“An operation went wrong. It…unsettled everyone involved. When the dust cleared she was with someone else,” he gave the short version with a fatalistic shrug.
“I wonder…,” Merrick responded thoughtfully.
Looking out to sea, Harm suddenly changed the subject. “You might have to ‘disappear’ you know.”
“I know. It doesn’t matter. I can go back to Devon.” he gave a short laugh. “I can help my Grandmother tend her sheep. I guess I’m getting tired of flying anyway. I’ve come back, I’ve proved something to myself, and now I don’t need to do it anymore.” But there was more bravado than conviction in his tone.
Harm nodded, he remembered doing that once himself. “Does anyone know about that place?” If Merrick identified a man like that, he’d be in danger the rest of his life. It would be up to the CIA to protect him.
“No. No one but you.”
“No friend who would question your absence.”
“No one I can’t handle. I have a …uh…‘friend’ but it’s not something that’s going to last. He just can’t understand that sometimes I still grieve.”
“It’s not much help, but I understand,” Harm reassured him.
“On the contrary, Harm, it is comforting to know that someone understands. Feelings are feelings no matter who is having them.”
For a long moment, they stood looking out across the bay. Harm spoke first.
“Look, I’ve got to get back,” he rushed the words, checking his watch. “I really appreciate your help today. Feel free to stay here for a while if you want.”
Merrick murmured a ‘thanks’ then smiled at the tall man. “Hot date with Mari?” he asked saucily.
“Nope, she shot me down,” Harm admitted. “Let me know the next time this Patterson guy goes to D.C.,” he requested, feigning only mild interest. “I have someone I used to work with, I can give him a call. Maybe it’s something, maybe its not, in the mean time for both your safety and mine keep this to yourself,” he warned.
“You have my word,” Merrick promised. “It took me a while to work up the courage to trust you. It wasn’t until I saw you with the Colonel that I knew I could count on you.”
“How so? I shredded her pretty badly,” Harm admitted.
“Yeah, you did,” Merrick delivered the words with a genuine smile. “And it nearly killed you to do it.”
Harm sensed he had found an ally rather than an adversary in Merrick Stevens. He gave the younger man a brief wave and turned towards his car. This would take immediate action on Webb’s part. Harm knew he’d deny it, fuss and flail about the infallibility of the Agency’s surveillance techniques, its facial recognition software, and in the end, he’d find a way to catch his man on Monday. He had the information and he had an eyewitness. He just hoped for Merrick’s sake, they didn’t blow it.
He also thought about Mac, and what Merrick had said. Perhaps he should talk to her again.
End of six
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 