Chapter 52: A Startling Proposal

Little Haiti, Miami, Florida: four months earlier

The Alexandres had returned to Miami in January to close out their affairs there and pack up to move; Nadine would give the VA a month’s notice and Wilson would give the county his two-week notice. They quickly found out that Werner did indeed “know” people. During their second week back, a commercial developer from a national firm with a Miami office called Wilson with a proposal. The developer, a friend of one of Werner’s business associates, had done some preliminary work on reviewing the Alexandres’ property and the neighborhood area. Three of the four properties which had “land-locked” the Alexandres’ lot were potentially available to be purchased. One was in tax arrears; a second was unoccupied and owned by a real estate investment trust, a REIT—the property was being held on speculation; and the owner of the third property was habitually late in paying the mortgage. The fourth site was the smallest and was located at the back of the Alexandres’ property. The developer had already secured options to purchase two of the properties and was working on the other owners.

The developer had a proposal for Wilson. He thought that if his company could acquire the other two parcels, with the area’s zoning, he could build a multi-unit dwelling on the combined sites. Since many properties in the surrounding six-block area were being flipped—many older homes were being demolished and larger homes built in their place—he felt that the market would support building luxury units. So he told Wilson that he would be making generous offers on the second two properties and Wilson’s lot, located in the center of the five parcels, would have a significant increase in value. As Nadine had told Tamara, the neighborhood was becoming gentrified and the developer affirmed that fact.

Before they left Miami, the Alexandres packed the essential items from their home and shipped them to their Maryland apartment. They packed up the temple contents as well; for the last step, they arranged to have movers pack up the rest, transport it to Maryland, and put it in storage until they found a permanent home.

Nadine and Wilson returned to Maryland at the end of January and set up housekeeping in a furnished apartment which Werner’s people had found for them. They had previously shipped their cars so they would have their use as soon as they arrived in Maryland. During January, Nadine had flown to D.C. and presented a seminar based on her doctoral dissertation to the Westphalia anthropology faculty and they had voted to confirm Nadine’s appointment to the department. She now had a joint appointment in the university and in the Columbia Institute of Economics. Then, at the beginning of February, Nadine began her new job.

She had been very concerned about how well she could handle this new job of hers and she wondered how she’d fit into the academic life after being away from it for such a long time. She did enjoy her time as a graduate student at the Universidad de San Juan; she had done very well in her classes and her teaching assignments and her work on her research project had given her immense pleasure. Still, that time was more than twenty years ago.

Westphalia University, Westphalia, Maryland: mid-February

One week after starting her job, Nadine was only just beginning to feel settled in her sparsely decorated office. She was reading one of the anthropology texts the department used in its classes and had several scholarly journals stacked on her desk with Post-It notes sticking out from the pages of several of them. That’s how Greta found Nadine when she visited her office and tapped on the door; Nadine invited her in.

“Nadine, I see you’re busy reading our materials, but I had a thought about helping you in a more active way; I’ve sensed that you’re still uncertain about your abilities,” she told her.

“I hope it’s a good thought; I’m trying to get caught up ... it’s been years,” Nadine said, waving her hand at the stack of journals.

“You have all the basics, my friend. I thought of a way to get your confidence way up—that’s to get you in front of some students right away. Normally we don’t ask a new person to jump in and start teaching immediately, but you’ve got a solid knowledge of the principles and from my conversations with you, I doubt you’ve forgotten very much. My idea is for you to take on a section of our junior anthro seminar class. We’ve got a sudden opening; the scheduled instructor was one of our grad students but last week she had to take off the rest of the term for a family emergency. I have a sub in the class this week and was going to shuffle some people around to get it covered, but then I thought of offering you this class.

“This seminar class involves the students reading a selection of current research papers and reviewing the research topic covered and the important works that those papers cite. During each meeting, students present the work in their assigned paper to the rest of the section and then everyone discusses their presentation. You would moderate the presentation and discussion and point out the basic teaching principles that get mentioned. Of course, you’d read the papers too and be able to guide the group, asking leading questions as needed.

“You’d get right into the current research, starting out this way, and leading the class will use your knowledge and communication skills too. The syllabus is already set and the kids all have their assignments, so all you’d need to do is to keep a week ahead of the class. And you’d quickly pick up the modern research in the field. Sound like a plan?”

Nadine smiled and nodded. “I think it’s a perfect plan. This will be a great way to get my feet wet; now tell me the details.”

Greta went over the class with her and showed her the syllabus on the department’s web site. After they finished and as Greta was leaving Nadine’s office, she stopped to ask her a question.

“I meant to ask: any news on your Miami house sale?”

“Actually, yes,” Nadine replied, smiling. “We’ve gotten a really good offer from the developer now. Our lawyer in Miami is checking it out and we’ll get his advice in a few days.”

“Excellent. That’s good news, Nadine.”

Nadine began leading the junior seminar class and was very pleased to find out that she seemed to fit right in; all of her prior experience came flooding back and leading the class was interesting as well. Then, in early April, she was delighted when she received a formal letter from the Universidad de San Juan notifying her that her master’s degree was being corrected to a doctorate since she had indeed met all of the academic requirements; they apologized for the error.

Applied Physics Laboratory, North Laurel, Maryland: mid-February

Wilson began looking into his own employment options soon after they got settled in their Maryland apartment. There were possible openings at the Naval Academy and also at Westphalia. But those jobs were basic auto mechanic jobs and Wilson wasn’t very excited by that work; there would be no challenge. He was much more interested when he heard from Scott that the APL facilities manager wanted to speak to him about his skills and experience.

Scott, who was the head and chief engineer of the mechanical engineering department, had earlier pitched the idea that the Facilities Department would benefit by having an all-around mechanic on its staff, someone who would be able to work on all of the lab’s mechanical systems, those operated by the facility and those used by the research projects, including the devices specially built for those projects. Scott pointed out to Gary Chambers, the Facilities Department manager, that none of the techs in the mechanical engineering department had the broad range of skills that Wilson possessed and the engineers’ skills didn’t even come close.

While Scott was with him, Chambers contacted Wilson’s reference, Miami-Dade County’s director of maintenance, who told him, “That guy has magic hands. There was nothing that he couldn’t fix. Saved us bundles by keeping our fleet going. He even worked on our aircraft, a chopper—you know, the aviation techs need an FAA license, but one time our chopper had a problem in its transmission that no one could diagnose. Wilson heard of the problem and had it located in an hour. Of course, without the licence, he couldn’t actually work on the chopper, but he guided a tech to the problem and told him how to fix it. When they asked him about how he knew about helicopter transmissions, he was modest; he told them that when he was in the Marines, he paid really close attention to the ‘birds,’ he called them, and how they were maintained at his base. His men’s lives depended on them working, he told me. So he knew his way around a chopper. We’re sad to lose him but he’s way too good for a county fleet repair shop.”

After Chambers disconnected, he looked at Scott.

“Sounds like this guy walks on water. Is he really that good?” Chambers asked.

“I have no detailed info other than my conversations with him; I told you before what I found out about him. Say, you know that university student of Emma’s? Tamara, the one who invented that energy-storage device and now has the medical section in an uproar about her new MRI improvement?”

“Sure. Who hasn’t heard about that?”

“Well, this guy’s her dad,” Scott told him. “Smarts must run in the family. She’s an electronics genius and looks like he’s a mechanical one. So you interested? Should I have him come in to talk to you?”

“Damn. I’d be stupid not to get someone like that on the staff, I guess. Yeah, set it up with my gal.”

Later that evening, Scott called Wilson and told him about coming in for an interview and then mentioned the call to Wilson’s former manager. He told Wilson about what his manager said about him.

“So that’s what we heard from your county facilities director,” Scott said. “They really like you back there,” he laughed. “So when can you come in to talk to Chambers?”

“Anytime he wants,” Wilson answered. “What kind of job am I interviewing for, anyway?”

“That’s what we want to work out. Since you know about so many systems, I’d expect that you’d have a very broad responsibility for anything mechanical. No birds or watercraft, though; we don’t own any.”

They both laughed at that.

At his interview, when Chambers learned that Wilson had dealt extensively with Helene Tarmson of DARPA over the development rights to Tamara’s inventions, he was amazed. When he learned that Wilson was also a Medal of Honor recipient, he was floored. But most of all, Chambers was impressed with Wilson and the skills he possessed. Within a few days, the lab made him their formal job offer.

One Month Later

In the middle of March, Wilson was notified by the Medal of Honor Society that the next ceremony had just been scheduled; it would be in the White House in mid-April. He was invited to attend and that wearing the dress uniform of his service was customary. And then he received a phone call from Robert O’Rourke of the Defense Department. O’Rourke told Wilson about the ceremony and urged him to come.

“Now that you’re living in the area, it would be good to have you come,” O’Rourke told him.

“Okay, sir, I’ll respond yes to the invite.”

Wilson returned the response form, saying that he’d be there. Fortunately, his dress uniform, the one he had worn at his own Medal ceremony, wasn’t with the items packed in storage; he had it hanging in his closet—but he needed to be sure it still fit.

Wilson had been instructed to drive to either the Washington Navy Yard or Joint Base Andrews and park there; from there he would be picked up by a Defense Department limo to be brought to the White House. Andrews was closer, so he chose that site. There were five other Medal recipients there when he arrived, so a round of introductions ensued. Two more men arrived and then the limo pulled in. It was a stretched limo so they had plenty of room, which was good because Wilson felt a bit stifled in his dress uniform. He learned that he wasn’t the only uncomfortable one. He did enjoy talking with the others; they shared a strong bond of similar combat experiences, which felt much different from Wilson’s interactions with other veterans.

The White House, Washington, D.C.: mid-April

When they entered the White House after being dropped off at the North Portico, a White House aide met the group and led them to the East Room but on the way, Wilson was intercepted by a staff member.

“You must be Sergeant Alexandre; am I correct?” she asked.

“That’s affirmative...” Wilson shrugged mentally; old memories were returning and he had fallen into a military mindset.

“Thank you. The president would like a word with you before the award ceremony. Please follow me,” she responded.

“Ma’am, you do know that I’m not today’s recipient?” Wilson asked, confused.

“I do know and I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. Mr Gerston learned that your own award presentation was not exactly public and wants to correct that situation.”

They had reached the Oval Office now and the Marine at the door saluted Wilson and opened the door. Wilson returned the salute and whispered, “Oorah,” as he passed and the Marine smiled and nodded slightly.

The president was seated in an armchair and in a chair across from him was Robert O’Rourke. Both men rose as Wilson approached and the aide went to a chair by the wall and took a recorder out of a table drawer nearby. Gerston saluted Wilson and he returned the salute.

“Sergeant Alexandre, such a pleasure to get to meet you,” Gerston said. “You do remember Bob O’Rourke, I’m sure?”

Wilson shook the president’s hand and then O’Rourke’s.

“I certainly do, sir. We first met, by phone, eight years ago, and he tried to recruit me for the CIA then,” Wilson joked and they laughed. “Sir, you wanted to speak to me about my ‘private’ award ceremony, but you really don’t have to make any special note of me today. After all, today’s event should be all about the new recipient.”

Gerston smiled at O’Rourke. “You did say he was modest.” Then he looked at Wilson. “I won’t be minimizing today’s Medal of Honor award to Lieutenant Jennings, Sergeant Alexandre ... may I call you ‘Wilson’? I assure you that’s not from disrespect; I’ve studied your biography and feel that I know you very well.”

“Sir, I would be honored to have you use my given name, Doctor Gerston.”

“Ha, ha, ha...” Gerston roared. “Touché. I’d venture to say that few people know that I have a doctorate; I don’t conceal my education though. I’m fine with just being a ‘mister.’”

“Certainly, sir,” Wilson grinned.

“Excellent; let’s be seated. Wilson, I hear you’re a direct sort of person. Very up-front but with a good sense of humor. Now Bob here has filled me in on some things you’ve done after receiving your Medal of Honor and truthfully, I must say you’ve continued to serve your country admirably even after you left active duty.”

“Everything I did was a response to the danger my family was in, sir. We were looking for a quiet life.”

“To be sure. But it was how you reacted that was noteworthy. For example, you were able to get an alert to the FBI about foreign infiltrators in our government and your alert came just days after we got a similar warning from a high-school student, an incredible person in his own right. His information, followed by yours, exposed the infiltrators. I awarded him the Medal of Freedom and would have recognized you then as well, except your role in the exposure of the plot got buried in the incredible morass we faced in digging the Executive Branch out of the mess the plot caused. I only heard of your role in it when I started to look into your background.”

“My background, sir? Whatever for?”

“Coming to that; just hold the questions. Then there was a personal attack on your wife by a foreign national who was in the country illegally, using a stolen passport. Not only did you, and she, stop him, but the information you extracted from him—using Marine techniques, I’m sure—led to the exposure of a whole political and criminal conspiracy, moles in our government, and illegal foreign operations. Plus enabling the FBI to solve dozens of murders.

“And then, to top it off, you effectively removed the political problem at its source. I’m certain that, whatever that autopsy showed, somehow you eliminated that Haitian witch who was the source of much of the instability of the Haitian government. My FBI and CIA sources are convinced that she didn’t have a ‘natural’ death.

“Finally, I learned that you’re not the only extraordinary person in the Alexandre family. Your daughter has provided the Defense Department with some inventions of hers which are allowing us to make some major breakthroughs in defense research. And your spouse isn’t just a priestess; she’s an anthropologist who has done some significant sociological research, which was unfortunately buried by her university, but now has been discovered, and I recently learned that she’s now part of the institute that I’ll be leading when my presidential term is completed.