Internal Threat (31 page)

“I don’t believe it,” he said as he finally reached it.

Beneath the charred tatters of clothes was Detective Larsen. The skin of his face was blistered and red. His hair was singed and one eyebrow had been blown cleanly off its usual home. Matt leaned his head down to the detective’s chest. It faintly rose up and down in time with a slow heartbeat.

“Larsen,” Matt said. “Can you hear me?” No response. “Larsen,” Matt repeated, louder this time.

The detective’s eyes fluttered and then rose slightly. “Am I dead?” he asked, voice strained and hoarse.

“Not yet.”

“I feel like hell.”

“Welcome to the club,” retorted Matt.

Larsen tried to smile, grimaced from the pain of it. “John?”

“Dead,” Matt told him.

“Thank God.”

A thought popped into Matt’s head upon hearing John’s name. Nearby, the small metallic box that John had been holding lay half-buried in the sand. Matt crawled over to it and picked it up. In his hands, it vibrated and hummed. Two simple switches were on its surface, both of them toggled in an up position. Matt had no idea what this box was but he knew that if John had wanted it to stay on, then the opposite would be what Matt wanted. He pushed both switches down. Instantly, the box was rendered silent and still.

There was a loud ker-clunk as a crackle of energy surged back into the lights surrounding the beach. They popped on in quick succession.

Suddenly, there was a whoosh as three missiles shot forth from the other side of the island. Matt watched as they flew over the ocean. For a second, he wondered if it had all been for nothing; if John had really succeeded after all.

The horizon exploded into three bursts of fire. Gray smoke pockmarked the sky. Then, it was silent once more.

“What was that?” Larsen asked, raising himself up on to one elbow.

“Not sure,” Matt said, letting the box tumble from his hands. “But I think it means we’re safe.”

Larsen nodded. “I’ve got a kid of my own, you know,” he said.

“I didn’t know that,” replied Matt.

“I think it’s time I paid a visit,” Larsen said, bringing himself to a half-standing position. “You believe in second chances, Weatherly?”

“I do now,” Matt said, a small grin breaking across his face.

“Hands above your head now!” a voice boomed out behind Matt. He turned to see a half dozen soldiers with rifles aimed directly at him and Larsen.

Matt did as ordered, thrusting his hands into the air. As he did, an officer with a nametag that read ‘Greco’ stepped through the soldiers and approached with a handgun leveled at Matt’s chest.

“Who the hell are you?” Greco demanded.

“My name is Matt Weatherly,” came the answer. “And I can explain everything.”

A
labama was even hotter than Emma had assumed it would be. The air was a thick, wet mass that clung to her exposed skin. Being dressed in all black was not helping matters.

She approached the building with tentative steps, ignoring the stares she was receiving from the people that passed her. A shadow fell over her, providing no relief other than reducing the glare in her eyes. Above was the steeple of the church, painted in bright white like the rest of the building.

The doors were propped open, allowing Emma to enter and look for a space among the pews. At the top of the aisle, a middle-aged woman detached herself from a conversation with the priest and headed in her direction.

“Are you Emma?” the woman asked.

“Yes,” she replied, taking the lady’s outstretched hand.

“I’m Jason’s mother, Rachel Worth,” she said. “Thank you for coming. Jason spoke very highly of you.”

Emma tried to hide her surprise, finding it hard to believe that Jason would mention her to his family. She took the compliment as graciously as possible, adding, “I thought very highly of him, too.”

Rachel nodded, a tear gathering at the edge of her eye. She quickly wiped it away.

“I’m sorry,” Emma said. “I didn’t mean to-”

Rachel waved her off. “No need to apologize. We’re here to remember my boy and I just can’t do that yet without crying.” She spotted someone entering behind Emma and offered a small smile before excusing herself. “Took a while to get everyone here. I’d like to try to welcome them all.”

Emma took a seat in one of the rear pews. It was far enough away from everyone else to give her privacy but also provided a perfect view of the front of the room where a bronze urn rested atop a marble pillar. Emma had never been to a memorial service before and had only been to one military funeral. She knew that it must have been Jason’s request to be cremated and, knowing his feelings about the army he had fought for, did not want the hollow condolences of an unknown chaplain.

It was hard enough for Emma in social situations but she had no idea what the protocol was here. It seemed odd that there was not even a body to commune with, just the ashes. The polite and dutiful young man that she had known was gone, reduced to a small piece of filled ceramic that would collect dust on a shelf. Suddenly, life seemed fleeting, sad and incredibly unfair.

The priest had moved to the altar where he was offering up a prayer for Jason’s spirit. Emma tried to join in with the unfamiliar words, hoping her mumbling would go unnoticed. The priest was followed by several people who had known Jason in his short life. A tall, thin doctor, who had practiced medicine in the town for forty years, talked about how Jason had overcome childhood asthma to become a star high school athlete. He was followed by a burly man with thinning hair who spoke of Jason’s talent on the football field and his dedication to the team. A striking young woman told an endearing story of her and Jason’s date to the Junior Prom and how he was so nervous that he forgot to put gas in his car, causing them to spend half the night on a country road dancing beneath the stars. At last, Jason’s mother and father spoke of how proud they were of their son for all of his life decisions, including going off to war. When they had finished, the priest appeared again at the podium.

“Would anyone else like to share their memories of Jason?”

Almost without her being aware of it, Emma raised her hand into the air. The priest smiled and gestured for her to come up. Questioning eyes swiveled in her direction. As she floated to the front of the room, Rachel Worth caught her eye and gave a small nod of appreciation. Emma turned to gaze out on the sea of faces. Her nerves jangling, she cleared her throat and began to speak.

“I, uh, I’m not very good at this. But I thought it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t say something about Jason Worth. We worked together but…it was more than that. I don’t know exactly when we went from being just coworkers to being friends, but it happened. Jason was loyal and kind and I’ve never known anybody like that. He was a true hero.” Emma paused, emotion choking her voice. She pushed through to continue. “He saved my life. And from what I understand about his military career, that’s what he excelled at. There was nobody braver or more dedicated to his country. I’m going to miss him, more than I ever thought possible.” Tears came now, trickling down her cheeks. “This world is poorer for having lost Jason. But I am incredibly richer for having known him.”

Emma stepped down and found herself enveloped in Rachel’s arms.

“Thank you,” Rachel whispered in her ear. She guided Emma back to the seat next to her and held her hand through the rest of the service. When it ended, people approached to shake Emma’s hand. At last, most of the mourners had moved to an adjoining room for refreshments. Emma stood up to join them, finding herself facing an older man in a black suit who looked incredibly familiar.

“General Griggs?” she finally realized.

Griggs nodded at her and then stepped to Rachel Worth, respectfully taking her hand. “I’m very sorry for your loss, ma’am,” he said with what Emma assumed to be practiced sympathy. “I had the honor of serving with your son.” Rachel thanked him and moved off to accept the condolences of a nearby couple.

Griggs turned to Emma, taking her arm. “That was a damn good speech, Ms. Hosobuchi,” he said as they drifted to the side of the room.

“Thank you,” she replied. “What are you doing here?”

“Jason Worth gave his life for this country. That’s something I respect more than anything, despite what you may think.”

“Civilian clothes?” she asked, pointing at his suit.

“Officially retired,” he said.

“Too bad. I’ll really miss you around the office.”

“Don’t lie, Emma. You’re not very good at it.”

They shared a laugh, which surprised both of them.

“So what will you do now?” she wondered.

“I got a fishing pole as my retirement gift.”

“Oh.”

“I hate fishing,” grumbled Griggs. “So I’m entering the glamorous world of consulting. Did you know I can make more in one month than I did all year as a general? It’s a messed up world.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

“I’d like to hire you,” he said suddenly.

“What?” Emma sputtered in surprise.

“I can use a cybersecurity expert.”

“Sorry, I’m going to stick with what I’m doing for now. There’s a big mess to clean up.”

Griggs shrugged. “I understand. But I hope you’ll understand that I’m going to ask you again. I can be pretty persistent.” He held out his hand for a shake. Emma ignored it, snapping a salute instead. Griggs returned it.

“Good day, Ms. Hosobuchi.” He threaded his way through the crowd and exited the church.

Emma watched him go, marveling at the conversation that had just transpired.

“Jason,” she whispered to the air with a smile. “I really hope you were watching that.”

I
t looked like a thousand other apartment buildings in Orange County. Tan stucco walls, orange roof tiles, green and leafy plants peeking out from behind black metal terraces. The only thing out of place was the blistered man with a cane who stood in front of it.

Detective Larsen shifted his leg to relieve some of the discomfort in it. The doctors had told him he would only need the cane for a few more weeks, but he wished it were sooner. Maybe he should have waited…

No
, he reminded himself.
You’ve waited long enough.

He flashed back to the moment in the helicopter that had haunted his dreams since happening. There was Matt Weatherly, his body separated from plummeting only by the cabin door. Then Weatherly was gone, heading to the safety of the ocean below. Larsen had turned back the controls, fighting them to straighten the helicopter. The pitch and yaw were too great for him, however. After a quick glance to make sure Weatherly had made it safely to the water, Larsen unbuckled himself and raced to the cabin door which was still pinned open. He dove through the narrow opening just as the explosion ripped through the air.

He was outside of the helicopter when he felt the flames licking his flesh. His back was alive in lancing trails as he hit the water. Embraced by the ocean, his world went fuzzy at the edges before turning to black. Everything was calm stillness. In that half-world between life and death, images danced. It was not the typical summary of his life that Larsen witnessed, though. There was only one thing that floated in the space with him; or rather, two things.

His ex-wife Julie and the child he had never gotten a chance to know.

Understanding had crashed into him then. He had gotten sober long ago and had left Julie alone, as he thought she would like. He always believed he owed her at least that much. But he had never uttered a word of apology to her. Never tried to find out where she had gone. More sickeningly, he had let his child disappear with her. Instead of being the impetus for a life ruled by the needs of someone else as any good parent does, he had only sunk deeper into himself and his selfishness.

His soul ached and wailed. Being the God-fearing man that he was, Larsen was sure he had been sent to hell. What else could this empty blackness with nothing but sorrow to keep him company be?

Then, miraculously, there was a pinprick of light. Larsen drifted towards it as it grew in intensity.

“I can make it,” he told himself. “I have a chance.”

All at once, light and sound assaulted his senses. Weatherly’s face was hovering above his own. Larsen tried to speak and the words were clumsy but Matt understood them. He was alive. And it was glorious.

After that, it was three straight days of intense questioning by the military. Weatherly and Larsen had been separated, as the detective thought they would be. Facts were checked and re-checked against their stories. At last, the young woman named Emma, who had questioned him about computer issues he knew nothing about, entered his locked room with a thick stack of papers.

“Sign these confidentiality agreements and you’re free to go,” she said. Larsen scribbled his name on the signature lines, noticing some of the dire consequences listed should he breathe a word of his ordeal. Emma scooped them up and exited without saying anything further and left his door open.

Larsen found Matt in the hallway outside.

“You’re looking a little better,” he said, upon seeing the detective.

“Feeling it, too.”

Matt stuck his hand out for a shake, which Larsen took. “I don’t know if I ever said it but I’m grateful for everything you did. Without your help, I…” he trailed off, afraid to finish the sentence.

“Just doing what I thought was right,” said Larsen. He let go of Matt’s hand.

“So what are you going to do now?” Matt asked.

“Take a little time off. I realized I’ve got some unfinished business to attend to.”

As Larsen approached the front door of the apartment building, he found his hands shaking. Willing them to stop, he opened the door and entered the cool carpeted lobby. It was a nice building, he thought.

It had not taken him long to find Julie. A simple search of the DMV database yielded her address. He decided to dig a little further and saw that she was unmarried. She also had a minor that lived with her named Sam.