“Let’s move,” Dane ordered. “Someone is bound to have heard those shots. I don’t want to be here when they come around to investigate.”
They dashed down the hall and around the corner. Dane heard the elevator bell ring again. He was growing to hate that sound. At the far end of the hall, where it made another right turn, was a door marked Stairs. Dane threw it open, and they sprinted up, taking the stairs two at a time. When they reached the first floor, Bones grabbed for the stairwell door.
“No!” Dane shouted, and continued running up the stairs. Bones and Kaylin followed. “If anyone did hear the shots, they’re probably watching the stairwells as well as the elevators.”
“We have to leave sometime,” Kaylin huffed. “What do you want us to do?”
“I’ve got an idea,” Dane said. Below them, he heard the first floor stairwell door open. He halted and motioned for the others to stop as well. They stood silently, listening as the clatter of footsteps echoed from below. The noise diminished, then, with the sound of a closing door, faded away.
Dane led them to the fifth floor. He pressed his ear against the metal door, but heard nothing. Cautiously, he opened the door and led the others into the corridor. He led them quickly down the hall, and breathed a sigh of relief when they came to a glass door labeled, Admiral Franklin J. Meriwether, Professor Emeritus. Suddenly wondering if this was such a good idea after all, he took a deep breath, turned the handle, and stepped inside.
An attractive woman, probably in her late thirties, sat behind a small desk. She had short, blonde hair, green eyes, and fair skin. The nameplate on her desk read, Jill Trenard. A civilian, Dane noted.
“May I help you?” Her smile was polite but perfunctory. She took in Dane’s sweaty brow and disheveled appearance, and her brow creased. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of Bones.
“Yes,” Dane said. “Dane Maddock to see Admiral Meriwether, please.”
The woman consulted her computer screen. “Do you have an appointment?” She knew perfectly well he did not, but she was a military secretary, and she had to go through the motions of asking.
“He’s expecting us sometime today,” Dane said. “We weren’t certain what time we would be getting here.”
Ms. Trenard was apparently too professional to point out that the Admiral had said nothing to her of their expected arrival. She gave him a long, sour look.
“Just a moment,” she finally said. She tapped a button on her telephone console, and spoke softly into the hands-free mouthpiece.
Dane stepped away from the desk, so as not to appear as if he were eavesdropping on her conversation. He pretended to take an interest in the photographs of World War II era naval vessels. All the while, he kept watch on the hallway outside. After a moment, Ms. Trenard spoke to him.
“Admiral Meriwether will see you now, Mr. Maddock.” Her surprise was evident in her voice and her expression.
Dane smiled and thanked her, then followed her into a small office, Bones and Kaylin following behind.
Admiral Franklin Meriwether, a broad, white-haired man, sat behind a massive mahogany desk. A laptop computer, telephone, and a ship in a bottle were the only items on the dark, wooden surface. Covering the wall behind him were framed degrees, certificates of achievement, and photographs of Meriwether with various comrades which told the story of his naval career. One of the photographs, a framed color print, showed Meriwether with his arm around the shoulders of his former underling, Dane Maddock.
“Maddock,” the Admiral greeted him in a surly tone. “When will I ever get to stop pulling your chestnuts out of the fire?” He stood and reached across the desk, clasping Dane’s hand in a firm shake.
“Come on, now. Why would you say that, Admiral?” Dane feigned innocence, knowing that he was not fooling his old commanding officer for one moment.
“I’m not sure. Either it’s because you show up in my office unannounced after my not having heard from you in two years, or because you had the audacity to lie about my expecting you.” Meriwether sat down, an angry look in his eyes.
“I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch,” Dane said, truthfully. “After Melissa…” He halted. If he said no more he could still retain his composure. Even after two years, it still hurt more than he could stand.
“I know, son,” Meriwether said, his voice softening. “It was a shock to us all.”
From the corner of his eye, Dane saw Kaylin cock her head and fix him with a questioning glance. Bones tapped her on the shoulder and shook his head.
“Besides,” Meriwether said, “the phone lines work both ways. I have not been in touch, either. Sit down, all of you.” He gestured to a large leather sofa that sat against the wall opposite him beneath a framed oil painting of a three-mast sailing ship battling a vicious storm.
The three of them seated themselves, then Dane introduced his companions.
“Admiral, this is my friend, Uriah Bonebrake.” Bones stood and shook hands with the retired admiral, who fixed him with an appraising look.
“A SEAL,” he said, nodding at Bones, “if I don’t miss my mark. And I rarely do.”
“Yes, I was,” Bones said, looking surprised. “Do we know one another?”
“No, I can just tell sometimes,” Meriwether said. “I've had a few years of experience with your lot.” He turned his attention from Bones to Kaylin.
“And may I present,” Dane said, “Miss Kaylin Maxwell. Her father was…”
“I remember your father,” Meriwether interrupted. “A fine officer, Maxwell was. Damn fine.”
“Thank you,” Kaylin said, her head bowed a little. Dane suddenly remembered he was not the only one grieving a loved one. “That’s kind of you to say.”
“How is he doing?” Meriwether asked. “Haven’t heard from him in more years than I’ve heard from Maddock here. Hope he’s enjoying his retirement.”
Kaylin’s face turned red and her eyes glistened. She looked away, unable to reply.
“I’m sorry to tell you,” Dane answered quickly, “Maxie died last month.”
“Oh, I didn’t hear,” the Admiral said. An odd look crossed his face. “You have my sympathy. I wish I could have been there to pay my respects.”
“We kept the memorial service very small,” Kaylin said quietly. Apparently being around Navy men was bringing back painful memories.
“Now, tell me why you’re here,” Meriwether said. “I assume it’s important, so you’d better fill me in.”
Dane quickly recounted their tale, beginning with Maxie’s search for the Dourado, and finishing with the details of Sowell and Wrexham’s treachery.
When Dane had finished his story, Meriwether sat quietly, rubbing his chin. He turned around and stared at the pictures behind his desk for some time. Finally, he spoke.
“How did you come to choose Professor Sowell to examine the sword?”
“I know him mostly by reputation,” Dane admitted. “Bones and I have used him as a resource on a few projects. We’ve mostly exchanged e-mails.” He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the ship-in-the-bottle, thinking how foolish he had been to trust a relative stranger. “I figured whoever was following us couldn’t infiltrate the academy. I didn’t count on an entirely new adversary.”
“Sit there for a minute. Let me check something out,” Meriwether said in his abrupt manner. He picked up the phone and dialed an extension. He asked the person on the other end a few pointed questions about Sowell and Wrexham, punctuated by disapproving grunts. Finally, seeming satisfied with the answers he received, he hung up the phone and returned his attention to Dane and his friends.
“Neither Sowell nor Wrexham have reported anything about this sword to their superiors,” Meriwether said, clearly annoyed. “They are definitely acting on their own. That alone is probably enough to keep the three of you out of hot water.”