SEAL Team Bravo: Black Ops IV (14 page)

“Name?”

“Chief Petty Officer Nolan.”

Is it my imagination, or did my name make them look at me sharply? What was that?

He gave a brief outline of his part in the mission. The clerk took it down, and he was conscious of the red light on the recorder. Best not to make any mistakes, there’d be a lot riding on this particular recon. He finished and waited for them to let him go off to bed.

“Did you see anything strange, Chief? Anything out of place, something that seemed off to you? Or did anything happen, anything you want to talk to us about?”

What the fuck is this? There’s something strange, something they aren’t saying. What do they want? Why are they looking at me so expectantly?

“No, I don’t think so.”

Should I mention Grant disobeying orders? Is that what they’re looking for? No, that was internal, our own business, and the Seals will deal with it.

The civilian pressed on. “Those cops that were killed, tell us about them.”

And then he remembered. The first cop, who’d been lying in the road. He pictured the scene, the guy lying in a pool of blood, probably from a cut throat. He recalled Colonel Weathers’ briefing, warning them about the murder here on the base.

Christ, what a coincidence!

He told the Intelligence officer what he’d seen, and the guy’s interest perked up. He was young, a thin blonde guy, with a lock of hair carelessly pushed of his forehead. A bit preppy, probably he’d been to an Ivy League college, then he’d go on to big New York law firm, after a short period of military service to put on his CV. But he had an underlying toughness, and he seemed more than just a backroom intel weenie. And Nolan suddenly understood he’d got it all wrong.

The guy is not intel, no way. He has to be a plain-clothes cop
.

“What are you? Military Police?”

The preppy guy smiled and nodded, “United States Marine Corps Criminal Investigation Division. I’m Captain Lomax, and this is Corporal Donna Ekstrom. You know why I’m here?”

“I assumed it was just to take down the mission debriefs, but clearly that’s not the case. There’s something else. What’s up?”

“What do you think is up?”

Nolan shrugged. “The body they found after the raid?”

“Correct, a civilian worker with close family connections to Karzai’s tribe. They’re pretty pissed in Kabul, and they want answers.”

“But what’s it got to do with the mission? It happened in a different country, for God’s sake. This is crazy. There’s no connection between them. I’m going to bed.”

He got up and started to walk out.

“Sit down, Chief Nolan! That’s an order.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll arrest you, and we can continue this from your cell.”

Nolan sat down.

“Okay, I’m all ears. Shoot.”

“You said there was no connection. The murdered guy here on the base had his throat cut. From what I gather, the first cop who died in Abbottabad was killed the same way.”

Nolan remembered the bloody body.
 

“Yeah, it seemed that way.”

The marine keyed in the details, and there was a short silence. He got up to leave.

“I assume that’s it?”

“Not quite, sit down. Now, tell us about San Diego, this rape they’re after you for.”

He sat there for a few seconds, stunned. So they knew all about it. It must have been all around the San Diego PD, the NCIS, and the USMC CID. He wanted to tell them to go to hell, but there was something about the way this was going that made him decide to tread carefully.

After all, I have nothing to worry about, do I? The best way is to cooperate, to some degree, anyway.

He told them what he’d heard from Carol.

“So you know there are a couple of SDPD detectives looking for you?”

“I heard, yes.”

“So why didn’t you come forward and clear the air.”

“I’ve been a little busy, Captain. You do know why we’re here, in Afghanistan?”

Lomax ignored his sarcasm. “You’ll have to talk to those cops and answer their questions. I’ve arranged for them to come here this afternoon. You can speak to them after you’ve had a chance for some sleep. Make sure you say nothing about the mission into Abbottabad.”

“I was going to write it up and send it to the San Diego Tribune.”

“Yeah, very funny. You have a lot of questions to answer, Chief. I’d take it a bit more seriously if I were you.”

Nolan ignored him. The response ‘fuck you’ was on his mind. He was tired, and they were pushing him hard.

“One more question,” the preppy investigator said abruptly. “Then you can go. Where were you when that Afghan was killed during the raid?”

“I don’t know when he was killed, so if you give me a time, I’ll think about it.”

The Captain nodded. “Yeah, well, we’re still working on that. Okay, you can go, Chief. Don’t leave the base, not until those cops have talked to you.”

Nolan got up and walked to the door. As he was pushing through, he saw Mariko Noguchi staring at him.

Does she think I’m involved in all this? No, she was with me almost the whole time in Abbottabad. But the rape in San Diego, will she be wondering? Probably. Fuck it!

He walked angrily to his quarters and lay down on his bunk. He tried to sleep, but it didn’t come. All he could think about were the fingers of suspicion that were pointed at him. A half-hour of anguished worrying at the problem got him nowhere. He must have started to doze when a knock at the door woke him abruptly. He ignored it at first, but when the knock was repeated, he heard her voice, “Nolan? You there?” He stayed where he was. After a few minutes, he realized she must have gone away as everything went quiet, and he fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

The two cops wore skeptical expressions, as if they’d been in the job a long time. They both looked tough, one in his late forties, the other probably mid-thirties. Both men had the jaded expressions, etched with suspicion, of career detectives. They were also overweight, with blotchy skin, the result of too many missed meals, made up with coffee, hot dogs, doughnuts, and hastily eaten junk food. The veteran detective look was completed with creased suits, shirts with the collars unbuttoned, and no ties.

Maybe it’s some kind of an overseas uniform,
Nolan wondered.

One guy was short, below medium height, and the other about six feet. Other than that, they could almost have come out of a mold. The cynical, careworn, city detective mold. He entered the room, a borrowed office in the guardroom, and they invited him to sit at a single chair placed to face the window, and the afternoon sun.

Funny. Are they that naïve? Do they think it will make a difference?

They shook hands, and he waited for them to start. The only decorations on the peeling walls were warning notices, what to do in case of fire, or an enemy attack, and the only furniture, apart from the table and chairs, a pair of locked steel filing cabinets. The MPs weren’t offering their civilian counterparts any luxuries.

“Kyle Nolan?” the taller cop asked.

He nodded.

“I’m Detective Preston, this is Detective Ashe. You know why we’re here?”

“I do now, yeah. The CID guy told me. The San Diego thing.”

“That’s right. On the night of February 12th, that was a Friday by the way, a young woman was raped in San Diego. She gave a description that matches you exactly. What do you have to say?”

“As I wasn’t there, what can I say?”

The shorter cop, Ashe, looked at him with a nasty expression. “That’s a fucking lie, Nolan. You were there, and we can prove it. Show us your left forearm!”

“What the hell for?”

Ashe looked angry, as if he was about to physically pull up the Seal’s sleeve. Nolan was ready to stop him. The taller cop intervened.

“Chief Nolan, the victim identified a tattoo on the guy who raped her. Please, show us your arm.”

Finally, he nodded and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the dolphin he’d had tattooed there right after he’d completed his BUD/S training. Ashe looked triumphant.

“This is a sketch of the tattoo the girl saw that night.”

He showed Nolan a picture. It could have been his tattoo, or not. Nolan laughed.

“You know how many Seals and former Seals have this dolphin tattoo? Hundreds, maybe thousands, as well as tens of thousands of wannabes across the US. It proves nothing, Detective. Except your ignorance of the way these things work.”

They stared at each other. Ashe was red with anger, and Nolan got the impression he was about to launch himself across the table. Once again, the taller cop intervened.

Good cop, bad cop, not the most original technique in the police arsenal. But I’ll have to be careful; they’re trying to trip me up.

“Okay, take it easy. We can settle this now, Mr. Nolan. Just tell us where you were on the night in question.”

And that’s the sixty-four dollar question. Where had I been? In bed, of course, except that I blacked out and can’t honestly say, not for one hundred percent sure, where I was. But still, they can’t know that.

“I was in bed. All night.”

“I see. Can anyone verify your story, like Detective Summers, for instance? Were you with her?”

“No.”

“Is that right?” Ashe smiled, and both detectives looked like cats that had got the cream. They exchanged glances. “Why am I not surprised?” Ashe commented.

Preston intervened. “You understand, Mr. Nolan. We have to ask these questions.”

“Damn right,” Ashe interrupted, “and quite frankly, we’re not satisfied with the answers we’re getting. We…”

Nolan stood up, and they both flinched. “No, you cops don’t understand. You come halfway across the world chasing the wrong man. I didn’t do it, so you should be looking for the man who committed this crime, and go after him. And it’s Chief Nolan, not Mister. If you want anything else, you can talk to my lawyer.”

Ashe nodded, as if he was pleased with the sudden hostility. He stared at Nolan.

“Tell me,
Chief
Nolan. Why did you threaten to cut her throat if she refused to keep quiet? Is that the way you handle your women? You like it rough, do you? Or maybe you don’t remember. What, did you lose your memory that night? That’s convenient. Why is it that perps always seem to lose their memory when it comes to the crimes they committed?”

Nolan felt a band tightening around him, and it all came together.

No, it isn’t possible.

He stared at them. “You don’t really think I did this? Jesus Christ, ask my partner, Detective Summers, she’ll…”

“We already did ask her, buddy. That’s why we’re here. Look, you’re in a lot of trouble, so why not settle this and tell us what you did?”

What’s going on? There’s no way Carol could think I did this. Could she? What has she told them? He felt his anger rise again. They were shitting him, she couldn’t have? Could she?

He tried again.

“The problem is, Detectives, I just did tell you what I did. I was in bed, asleep. And this is a complete waste of my time, your time, and the American taxpayers’ dollars. Now go chase the real criminal.”

Ashe nodded. “We’re looking at him, Chief. I wouldn’t go too far if I were you, my friend. This is isn’t over. We’ll be talking to you again, and the next time, we’ll be reading you your rights. Savvy?”

Nolan stared him down. Their eyes locked, and neither man was prepared to look away. He’d have liked nothing better than to give the San Diego cop a lesson in the finer arts of unarmed combat. But he controlled his emotions and walked out the door. He had to talk to Carol, as soon as he could put a call through. He went outside and tried to use his cell, but there was no signal, as usual. He’d need to use one of the base phones as soon as he could.

What has she told them?

He strode along the path that led to the operations room, from where Lieutenant Colonel Weathers was just emerging. It looked as if the guy had been waiting for him, which was no surprise.

“Chief, did you deal with those cops? Is it all over?”

“No, Sir, it is not. Could I have a word with you, in confidence.”

“Sure, you’d better come on into my office before those guys get to you. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Nolan looked around; Ashe and Preston were fifty meters away, watching him. He followed Weathers into the office and took the indicated chair.

“It’s those two cops, Sir. It’s more serious than I realized. I don’t know how it will affect my work here.”

“Yeah, I gather it’s not just our Marine CID. Those civilian cops look as if they’re after your ass. Tell me, Chief, what exactly it all about?”

Nolan hesitated. Was talking to him a wise move, especially after he’d told the SDPD detectives to talk to his lawyer? But he had to do something, needed someone on his side. Otherwise he’d go crazy. So he leveled with Colonel Weathers and told him everything, except for the blackouts. That was his business. Weathers didn’t interrupt, just listened to it all. The murdered Afghan, the murdered Pakistani cop, and what they’d told him about the raped woman in San Diego. She may well have been another victim, had her rapist carried out his threat. When Nolan had finished, the Colonel sat back, deep in thought. Finally, he looked up.

“Chief, I’ll be honest, none of this is new to me. When I heard about those civilian cops, I asked around. The Department of the Navy, who oversees both the Marine Corps and the US Navy, gave me the necessary authorizations to dig deep into the files. I wanted to know what those cops wanted, and why. Anything that may affect the efficient operation of this facility, and the missions we run from here, I have to make my business. The death of the Afghan who was murdered on the day of the raid is still under investigation, and I spoke to Captain Lomax about the progress of that. I was also in on some of the interrogations of that cop you brought back, and what he said filled in some of the blanks. We covered the little matter of him and his colleagues going missing, by the way. It was easy to arrange a large cash deposit into the bank account of a cop in Abbottabad, and the CIA is in process of spreading a rumor about an arrangement he made with a rival warlord. The story is he wanted those cops out of the way because of some family feud.”

“Do you think they’ll wear it?”

Weathers laughed. “It’s the one thing they will wear. Happens all the time over there. These people slaughter and kidnap each other at the drop of a hat. Don’t worry; we’re covered, but back to your problem. There is a link to all of these crimes, and I’m surprised you haven’t worked it out yet. The Navy Seals.”

Nolan nodded thoughtfully as it all clicked into place. The dolphin tattoo, San Diego, and the Seals being present at both the murders in Bagram and Abbottabad.

“You mean Bravo Platoon, not just the Seals. So you think it is me?
 
You think I’m a murderer?”

Weathers smiled. “No, I’m pretty sure you’re not a murderer. It doesn’t mean you’re in the clear, but it’s a start. As for that civilian matter, it’ll have to take its course. You’ll have to deal with it sooner or later, but if you’re innocent, they’ve got nothing on you. What concerns me is our problem; one we’ve only just realized we have. It looks like we have a serial killer running around inside the US military, inside a Navy Seal unit, and Bravo Platoon is the common link.”

“It’s crazy. Bravo, I can’t believe it.”

“Maybe, but it’s probably true. This guy kills for pleasure, that’s what we understand, some kind of a perverted power trip. When I started to look into this, I found there have been two other women victims at least, and three more men murdered in the same way. Both of the women were raped as well. It looks like the same guy did it all. And he’s not too choosy about his victims, men, women, any age, it makes no difference to him. He just enjoys killing.”

“What about DNA? Surely that can help find him?”

Weathers nodded. “You’re right, as a rule. But this guy is clever, very clever. He leaves no traces, nothing we can pin on him. By the way, have you any objection to a new DNA swab?”

Nolan shook his head. “None at all. I just want this out of the way.”

“Okay, I’ll arrange for it to be done, not that it’ll take us far. We already have your DNA on file, as you know. But we’d like a current sample to compare with the original.” He stared at Nolan. “Chief, I want your help to catch this killer.”

“I still don’t believe it’s one of our guys, Colonel. It doesn’t seem possible. Every man in the squad devotes his life to the Seals. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I agree, but we have to face the facts. Someone is committing these crimes, and someone who’s grown to enjoy killing people a little bit too much. The link is Bravo. We need to catch this guy, and fast. I need your help.”

Nolan thought fast.

If it is someone inside Bravo, it could rip the squad apart, a squad that every man has dedicated his life to, and sacrificed everything to be the best. But how can I help when I’ve this civilian problem to get over?

He explained his dilemma.

“Colonel, I can’t deal with both the Marine Corps CID and the SDPD, not when I’m under suspicion. Besides, the right guy to deal with Bravo is Lieutenant Boswell. You should go through him.”

Colonel Weathers stared at him for a long, hard moment. “Lieutenant Boswell. Is he up to it, Chief? Leading the Platoon, I mean?”

Nolan couldn’t meet his eye. He just mumbled, “I dunno, maybe, maybe not. But that’s an internal matter, Colonel.”

Weathers shook his head. “I’m not totally happy about that officer. He’s got a lot to prove yet, and so far the thing he’s best at is leaning on his highly placed connections. No, it has to be you who deals with this, Chief.”

“Then you’ll have to call off the dogs, Colonel. Captain Lomax, the Marine Corps Cop. And I’ll need to convince those detectives, somehow. Otherwise it’ll be like working with a hand tied behind my back, trying to find a killer when I’m the number one suspect.”

Weathers shook his head. “It ain’t gonna happen like that. You’re uniquely placed to help us, and you know that. If the real killer thinks you’re the likely suspect, he won’t realize we’re looking for him, and hopefully, he’ll become careless. If you’re cleared, he’ll be a lot more careful, and it’ll be harder than ever to find him. Think about it. There are twenty guys in Bravo Platoon, and one of them is almost certainly our killer.”

Nolan was thinking exactly that. The Colonel was asking was that he continued as the Platoon’s number two while under suspicion for murder, and at the same time he had to find out who the real killer was.

“It’s too much, Colonel. You don’t know what life is like for an operator on Seal missions. We need to think fast and move fast. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before. It’ll be hard enough waiting to be cleared of this rape nonsense, but I guess I’ll have to roll with it. This other thing, you really need to talk to Boswell.”

He shook his head firmly. “I’ve already said that’s a non-starter. Do you have any suspicions?”

Nolan’s mind whirled with the possibilities.

Who the fuck can it be? I trust those men with my life. That’s the way it works in the Seals. Only one name comes to mind, and it doesn’t seem possible. Lucas Grant. He was out on his own, moving forward to recon the compound in Abbottabad when the cop got chopped. Yeah, he was here in Bagram during the raid, and he would’ve been in San Diego at the time of the rape. As for the other crimes, I’ve no idea, but even so. I’m not comfortable with the guy, true, but for entirely different reasons.
He’s a little too gung ho, if anything, but Christ, the guy had been there and carried out the impossible, he was entitled. He’s an American hero, for Christ’s sake! Seal Team Six set America and the world alight when they took out Osama bin Laden. The raid restored the reputation of America’s military and intelligence services at a stroke. And the guys in Six are the absolute best of the Seals, itself an elite organization. They don’t come any better than those guys. When the raid became public, every Seal was proud of what their service had achieved. At the same time, there was a twinge of envy we all felt, that we hadn’t been on that mission.

Weathers seemed to read his thoughts.

“You think it could be Grant?”

He stared at the Colonel.

“I’m sorry, Sir, no, I don’t believe it’s Grant.”

And there was something else that occurred to him.

This whole line of questioning from Lieutenant Colonel Weathers, a Marine Corps officer, it doesn’t ring true. He has too much knowledge of our operations and personnel.

“If not him, then who?” Weathers persisted.

“I don’t know, Sir, but there’s one thing I do know.”

“What’s that?”

“If you’re a Marine Corps Colonel, I’ll resign and join the Parks Department.”

They stared at each other. Finally, Weathers nodded and smiled.

“Very good, Chief. You’re right, at least, partly right. I used to be a Marine Corps Colonel until I transferred.”

“To where, Sir?” But he already had a pretty good idea.

“This is for your ears only. Clear?”

Nolan nodded.

“I transferred to DIA Counterintelligence, Defense Intelligence Agency, after I got my star. Technically, I’m a Brigadier General, but my work for DIA means I have to adopt whatever rank is convenient for my current mission.”

“Just what is your current mission, Sir?”

“I was sent here to investigate certain US military activities in Afghanistan, specifically here in Bagram. The murders were something new, and then I got caught up with this Abbottabad business quite by chance, but DIA wants me to continue to run with it. That’s why I want you to unravel it and find out where it all leads. Is there another bin Laden in Abbottabad? If so, is he the new al Qaeda leader, or just a local rug merchant? And is there a killer inside Bravo Platoon, or is that just another set of coincidences? That’s your brief. It’s a tall order, but I need it taken care of.”

“And all the time I’m the number one murder suspect,” Nolan said bitterly.

Weathers shrugged. “That’s the way it goes, I’m afraid.”

The phone rang, and he picked it up. “Weathers.”

He listened for a few seconds. “Okay, he’s with me now. You can speak to him when he comes out.”

He put the phone down. “That was the San Diego cops. They want to talk to you again, and they’re waiting outside my office.”

“Shit. Sorry, Colonel, or is it General?”

“Here, it’s Colonel. You’d best remember that.”

“Okay, Colonel. I told those guys I would only talk to them with a lawyer present.”

“Is that right? I suggest you tell them you’ve changed your mind. You need to lead them on, to keep pressure off the real killer.”

What about the fucking pressure on me? Who gives a shit about that?

“I haven’t decided to take all this on, Sir.”

“No? You got any other options, Chief, you going any place?”

No, I’ve nowhere else to go, that much is true, and I’m boxed in. Except that if they want me on side, I have a bargaining chip.

“Maybe not. But if that intel on Abbottabad pans out, and there is another bin Laden who needs to be taken out, I want to be on the mission. I mean, Team Bravo.”

“That’s not an option, I’m afraid. The planners will decide who to send, and I doubt it’ll be your outfit. I’m sorry, Chief, but that’s the way it is.”

“Then it’s no go, Sir. I’ll do my job, but no more. You’ll have to get someone else to find your killer. You want him, you find him.”

Weathers stared at him. “That sounds a lot like blackmail to me. Are you sure that’s the way you want to play it with me?”

His voice was low and cold, but Nolan had been pushed around just once too often.

“I do, Sir.”

The Colonel thought deeply. “Neptune Spear was put together with guys from different squads. They were all chosen for their experience and service records. They literally were the best of the best. I could maybe get you on the team that goes in.”