Chapter 7

17:30 Tuesday, August 6^th, 1991

Along Interstate 80 (the Bay Bridge)

San Francisco, CA

The Gunny was proud of Lenore. The car she must have bought with the change from the change jar was flawless in his opinion, and was absolutely the right car for them. It had the smaller engine, and thus should be economical, insurance should be low on it. The Gunny frowned to himself. If I don't talk to her about money, she won't talk to me about it. Jesus, how much was in that jar?

He thought he knew what was going on, too, that his woman had seen fit to act and help him to get a better job. He was convinced that Lenore orchestrated the trip to the tailors, and that she was paying for the suit. Jesus, I wonder how much this is costing? I guess if I'd ever really wanted to know I'd have counted the change in that fucking jar.

But the change jar had seemed like a formidable task every time he'd looked at it. He figured the suit would be a thousand dollars, since it was the Admiral's tailor, and the car had to have been nearly six thousand.

And then the Gunny had a moment of remorse. What if it wasn't nearly that much and Lenore paid for this from her own goddamn savings from before she met me?

"Tonight, Lenore, I gotta show you all the bank accounts and where all my money and crap is."

He was looking out the window at the yards in Oakland, but caught her pleased smile out of his peripheral vision.

20:45 Tuesday, August 6^th, 1991

Crystal Gateway Marriott

1700 Jefferson Davis Highway

Arlington (Crystal City), VA

The Admiral stayed frequently at this hotel when he visited the Navy offices in Crystal City, so Deb made reservations here. It was a decent hotel, she supposed, if bland and modern. She'd had no trouble driving down the Toll Road from Dulles to I-66, then down 110 around the Pentagon to Crystal City on "The Jeff Davis Highway".

Kostowe and she didn't, somewhat surprisingly to her, discuss the meeting while traveling. Instead, she was surprised to learn he had lived in Northern Virginia, in Vienna, for some years while working in Tyson's Corner. She managed, she thought, to hide her reaction to the revelation, but castigated herself for not knowing more about a person so close to the Gunny, and on the periphery of the Admiral's social circle. Especially so since he was close to Lenore, now that Deb had invested some emotional interest in Lenore and Sandy, and by extension, Ben and the Gunny.

She admitted to herself, since Barb had started spending her evenings with her husband again two years ago, Deb was lonely, and the Chief was an interesting person.

After a mediocre supper in one of the restaurants in the basement mall under Crystal City, Deb and the Chief had agreed to meet in the morning at the continental breakfast and had said 'goodnight'.

Deb sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, for a long time, trying to sort her emotions and what her failure to proactively learn more about the Chief might mean.

09:10 EDT Wednesday, August 7th, 1991

Office of Naval Intelligence

4251 Suitland Road

Washington, DC 20395

Deb was cooling her heels, she concluded. Kostowe was off having a meeting, probably on something classified. Left alone in an office with a telephone and not much else, Deb had tried to stave off boredom by solving polynomial expressions.

When that quickly lost its appeal, she moved on to plotting quadratics. Math had been her second love as a high school student, behind debate. She'd chosen the path of the lawyer instead, and the rest, as they say, is history. And, she admitted wryly, you've got a lot of history.

Being in the halls of Intelligence again was unsettling enough. Kostowe sensed her unease at returning to a world she'd only been on the periphery of for so many years, a world she had left only a few steps ahead of expulsion and scandal, she was sure. The man had been a dear, and had told her slightly off-color jokes all the way down I-395 and over the Wilson Bridge in some of the most horrific traffic Deb had ever seen. When they made it to Suitland, it took a real act of will for her to let go of the steering wheel and leave the car.

For now, she was waiting. You're a lawyer. You're supposed to be good at convincing others to get what you want, she told herself. Yes, but these people hold most of the cards, and you'd not done all that well the first time, another part of her argued back. She found herself shying away from some of the memories of that time. 1975 had not been a kind year to Deb.

At last, Kostowe came back from his early meeting. Lunch was a nervous blur to her; she'd had no idea what she was eating in the cafeteria. Finally, the time had come, and he'd given her an encouraging smile.

Together, they went down the hall, and into a wallboard-and-panel conference room, on the outside, western, arc of the building. Vertical blinds hung in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, the furniture was reminiscent of Scandinavian design, all maple plywood and soft curves with brushed steel legs. The dark blue of the carpet muffled the sounds of the building and soaked up light, giving the room a half-lit feel though the blinds were open.

Deb nodded; she was at home in rooms like this. A moment later, the door opened, and a youngish full Commander in short sleeve Khaki came in, followed by a woman in conservative dress, carrying a notepad, and a Lieutenant, j.g., also in short sleeves.

"Okay, let's begin." The Commander had sat at the end of the table, with his secretary and the Lieutenant j.g. flanking him. At the other end of the table were Deb and Kostowe, with the daylight filtering through the blind and flanking both sides equally. A classic arrangement for negotiation, Deb mused.

"I'm Commander Fales, and, as you have no doubt guessed, the Chief is affiliated with this office. He has stated a need to discuss his will, and you are his legal counsel?" At Deb's nod, the blond-haired Commander continued. "Much of what we do here is classified. If we get into classified matters, you will understand if I neither confirm nor deny, but may refuse to allow the conversation to proceed?"