Walking into the JAG office, McCoy and I stand side-by-side. I have to admit that it’s nice having a Staff Judge Advocate at your disposal. The receptionist makes eye contact with us, but makes no attempt to move or greet us. It doesn’t escape my notice that she presses a button on her phone before asking if she can help us.
“Is this where I’ll find Commander Clarke?” I ask because it’s been years since I’ve been here and a lot of things have changed.
“Yes, it is.”
“I’d like to see her please,” I tell her. She looks down at her phone, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry but Commander Clarke is unavailable.”
McCoy groans next to me. We’re both eager for help and Carole is the only one I know that can guide us in the right direction. I’m not expecting her to get me the answers, but she’ll know where to send us.
“Do you know when Commander Clarke will return?”
“No, I don’t.” Her tone is flippant and dismissive. In my many years of being a SEAL, one thing you learn is how to read people. Her posture, tone and overall attitude tells me that she doesn’t want us here... that we’re not allowed here.
With my hands spread wide along the edge of the counter, I lean forward. “Do not mistake me for a stupid man. I need to see Commander Clarke and it’s urgent. Now where can I find her or when will she be back?”
“I’m right here, Evan.”
Carole appears in the doorway with files in her arms. My eyes travel from her to the receptionist and back again, hoping to communicate that she’s been an issue.
“Sabrina, as with any other lawyer in this building, if our family members need to see us, you call. And I know you’re well aware of who this man is.”
“My apologies, Commander Clarke,” she says as she falls into her seat and sure as shit, her hand slides over to her phone, pressing another button.
“Follow me,” Carole tells us as she turns down the hallway she appeared from. McCoy and I follow her, passing numerous offices until we turn into the same one as Carole. She waits, shutting the door behind us after we step into her office.
“You’re dressed like a civilian today,” I say, pointing out the obvious.
“I was having lunch with your brother earlier,” she says, pointing at the seats in front of her desk for us to sit down in. “I’m happy you’re here though, I want to ask you some questions.”
I try not to let the fact that she’s already met with Nate bother me. My jaw ticks from anger and frustration. Why is it that everywhere I turn, there he is? This isn’t his fight. It’s mine.
“Who gave you your orders?”
“Ma’am?” McCoy says. I don’t know about him, but the answer seems obvious to me.
“Captain O’Keefe,” I say, knowing that she knows this answer. My training tells me that I should ask one back, but I want to know where she’s going with this.
“Do you know this for a fact?”
I look from her to McCoy and both of us shake our heads. Carole slides a piece of paper toward us and we lean forward to read it. It’s our orders, telling us the where, why and what of the operation. The only thing questionable is the space where O’Keefe’s signature should be at the bottom. It’s not there.
“I don’t understand,” McCoy says.
Carole takes the paper back and places it in her briefcase, along with the file that she pulled it from. “I’m doing what I can to figure this out, but Evan, I want you to talk to Nate. He wants to help and he’s been doing his own digging. Right now, he has a little more freedom on base. Keep your eyes and ears open and your mouths shut. Do not talk to anyone about this except for me. I’ll be at Ryley’s tonight. I think you guys should join us.”
There’s a brief knock on the door before it opens. When Carole stands, McCoy and I both turn to find the Commander of the Southwest Region in her doorway. We stand to attention, but he ignores us.
“Just stopping in to say ‘hi’ and introduce myself. I’m Admiral Jonah Ingram.” He stands there, staring at us before closing the door. McCoy and I both exhale and look at each other before we sit down. I grip the arm rests as my mind starts running every scenario possible.
“Why’s he here?” McCoy is brave enough to ask, but I want to know why he didn’t talk to us, ask for a meeting. Is the Commander of Navy, Southwest Region not concerned that four of his men are alive and well instead of buried six feet under?
She sits calmly, but all the color has drained from her face. “Captain O’Keefe hasn’t returned to base since you guys arrived home. A body was found the day Nate returned but is now missing from the morgue. Now I don’t know about you, but if four SEALs return from the dead and their Captain disappears, all sorts of red flags are flying. Yet, there hasn’t been a single news crew or reporter around and people are acting odd. No one seems to care about any of this.”
“But ma’am, this is San Diego,” McCoy states. “Dead bodies are a daily occurrence.”
“You’re right, unless you’re me and looking for answers as to why my son-in-law and his team disappeared for six years.” Carole folds her hands together and sighs. “I know I look for cause in everything, but before you left, Senator Lawson was hanging around the base. I k