So was Claire Richardson. She was like Hammond when it came to thinking things through. Taking advice from General Black, he had turned her loose on the North Koreans. Like an angered bulldog, she had led the First Marine Division all the way up the peninsula and had personally orchestrated the surrender in Pyongyang. Now she was head of Defense Special Operations in the Pentagon where she and Black were busy making the Pentagon into an efficient machine. O’Bannon could almost see her snarling at some of the staffers and ‘sand crabs’ in the ‘E-Ring,’ the outermost ring of offices in the building.
The President heard the floor creak and looked up to see Jim Butler coming around the corner. “I thought you had gone home,” he said with a grin. Then he noticed the concerned look on Butler’s face. “Okay, what’s happened,” he asked as Butler solemnly handed him a sheet of paper.
“Bad news,” Butler said.
The President quickly read the first paragraph, then skimmed the rest. As he read, his face became a mask of frustration. He finally put down the paper and closed his eyes. “Fourteen mayors,” he said in a low tone, almost as if it were too much to handle. He looked at Butler. “What else do we know?”
“I talked to Al Peterson at State. He called down and talked to Mayor Brennan personally when the word got out. Brennan says it was a definite abduction. He saw military types carrying the other mayors out the door and drive off in a panel truck. He has no idea who it might have been. The ambassador told me that Brennan escaped because he was in the bathroom at the time. He said he ran a mile and a half until he finally found a police station. Then it took another half hour to get someone to translate for them. The way I figure it, they are long gone and we don’t know who did it. The Colombians are having a fit right now trying to find the truck and get these mayors back. They closed the borders and airports. You will probably be getting a call from their President any time now,” Butler said.
“You have people on it?” the President asked, knowing he already did.
Butler smiled. “Al is going to offer any assistance they may need including military. I called Black. He’s getting the services alerted. I also let Hal Mossman know at FBI and Craig Harris at CIA. They are getting things spooled up. CIA got a call from their resident about the time we got the word and they are calling in some chips. There’s not much we can do as yet, but no use waiting.”
The President nodded.
“But boss, you didn’t look at the names, did you?” Butler prodded.
The President glanced down at the fourteen names on the sheet. He stopped at number ten and turned white as a sheet. “Does he know?”
Butler shook his head. “We also don’t know this might be in retaliation for his actions in the war. There are still some fanatics out there,” he said.
The President sat up in the recliner. “Dave,” he called out.
The Secret Service agent turned the corner. “Yes, Mister President.”
“Dave, do me a favor. Find Hammond. Get a detail around him right now and keep him safe until I say so,” he said with determination.
Chapter 2
Old Times
Vice Admiral Roger Hammond was sitting back enjoying a concert. It was the final day of the Iowa reunion. The banquet had been excellent and now this concert topped things off. The crew, their wives and families and some from the city of San Pedro were sitting on the fantail of the great ship. Moored outboard the Iowa was the new guided missile cruiser, USS Kings Mountain. Its captain, Brian Davis, the Iowa’s former executive officer, had requested the port visit just for this occasion. The Kings Mountain crew was also on deck enjoying the concert. Just beneath the guns of turret three was a platform where the Iowa band was playing. “The guys can still crank it out,” Hammond said to Davis as they listened to some of the songs the band had played when the ship had last been in commission.
This was a special time for the old crew. After the ship was decommissioned two years before, the Navy had maintained the Iowa for possible future operations while allowing the museum to use her for tours. Because of that, the crew had made a point to come back aboard every year for a week long reunion. Not satisfied to just visit, they decided early on that no one could take care of the ship better than its crew. So instead of going on tours and just lounging or drinking away the days, they reported aboard in dungarees and work clothes. During the next few days the men performed planned maintenance, cleaned and painted. About the only things they had not done was light off the boilers and get the ship underway. As a result, the ship appeared pristine to all the visitors coming aboard for tours.
The band, however, had a different job. Having gained notoriety during the war, people across the United States had wanted to hear the guys play. After a short national tour the nine men had finally gone home and resumed their lives. But each year their job was to attend the reunion and give a concert. Coming out a few days early, the band made arrangements with local high schools to have a sort of music lab for really talented students to work with them, learn a little improvisation, and give a final big concert.
The week of hard work had paid off. On the stage were over twenty young people playing various instruments and following along with the Iowa band. This year, some of the new songs had a distinctive Latin beat and there appeared to be more percussion players. The trumpet and trombone players had mixed in well and were adding some punch to the older songs as well as some solos which had been very impressive. The concert had started with just the students playing, then the Iowa band joined them for a few of the older songs punched up with the additional instruments. But now it was just the Iowa band. The mix of Doobie Brothers, Three Dog Night and others brought the crew back to the time they had all been together on this great ship. They had all done wondrous things aboard Iowa and had loved nearly every minute of it.
When the band broke into “Black Water” Hammond had nearly shed a tear. That was Patricia’s favorite song from the band. They had played it especially for her on her trip to Korea and had been playing it when he stood on the bridge wing and showed her the ring he had bought for her. He still remembered the look on her face as she stood on the pier and nodded her head. Patricia Crowell had come the first day of the reunion but had to leave for a conference and couldn’t be there for this concert. Everyone welcomed their mayor with open arms. She had returned the gesture by going from place to place on the ship and talking to “her guys.”
Many of the crewmembers turned to look at Hammond as the song was played. Hammond was and would always be their captain. They had come to honor and respect the man who had brought them together as a team and led them through a war. Even though he now had three stars, Hammond remained their “shipmate,” and for many, he had become a lifelong friend. They remembered the times when the Mayor had been aboard and the happiness both had exuded. Nearly all the crew attended the wedding.
The final song was “Listen to the Music.” The band started, and then on the chorus the entire group of students began adding their parts until it had risen to a whole new level of sound and sight. By now the whole audience was on its feet clapping to the beat and in some cases dancing in the aisles. Only a few noticed the four men rushing up the gangway of the ship. Quickly scanning the crowd, they focused in on Hammond and rushed to his side, taking him by the arms and hustling him around the stage and into the after athwartships passageway.