Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,128
idiots.”
“Because he’s a SEAL,” Julio murmured, his dark brown eyes zeroed in on Walker. “And SEALs stand together.”
Walker stared back at Julio. Behind that gentle Mexican/American’s quiet demeanor was a will of iron. Julio might not have finished BUD/S, but he was every bit a SEAL, right down to his soul.
It seemed unimaginable. All these brothers and sisters...
All ready to stand and fight for him.
As always, Walker’s gaze ended on Persia. Like the sassy warrior she was, she gave him her chin, that cocky show of attitude and courage.
“But that makes each of you” —Walker scanned the room, making eye contact with everyone— “accomplices.”
Julio shrugged. “No, amigo, it makes us familia. If that makes us accomplices, it is only because we have chosen to be your brothers and sisters.”
“And I have proof positive that Cudahy’s office leaked deliberate misinformation about your case to the press,” Adam interrupted. “Only the press didn’t choose to investigate that. They just ran with it—”
“And ran your good name into the mud,” Persia said quietly.
Walker stared across the room at the woman he adored. He needed a moment with her. Maybe a lifetime.
“And those two ensigns who testified against you, Chief?” Ryder asked, the whites of his eyes bright against his dark skin. “I had a little talk with them once you disappeared. They’re ready to recant, but someone’s threatening them. They won’t say who, and they’re scared. Once we clear your name, I’ve got a feeling you’ll see them again.”
“NCIS has some explaining to do,” Stewart added.
“I never stood a chance—”
“No, son, you didn’t,” Brimley offered quietly. He hadn’t said much throughout this meeting of minds. He’d just sat back in the recliner next to Murphy Finnegan’s, his hands clasped over his belly, while he’d absorbed every last piece of evidence. Every lie and every twisted fact.
Rover was still making rounds, collecting ear scratches, belly rubs, and leftovers, but Brimley and Murphy looked calm and serene. Neither said a word until now.
Walker looked at the Vietnam Vet who’d befriended him. Brim had endured his own share of the mighty free press’s backstabbing, name-calling, and slander. Hell, he’d been spit on when he’d come home, character assassinated by the media, and hung out to dry by the country that should’ve had his back.
“Let me guess,” Walker said to Murphy. “You’re a Vietnam vet, too.”
Murphy murmured with a sly smile, “Mi casa es su casa.”
“It’s sure good to get these facts out in the open,” Brim said matter-of-factly. “But who said what and who did what doesn’t get you where you need to be, does it?”
“It sure as fuck matters to us,” Ryder Dahl roared. “We stand with our Chief.”
“I get that, sir, I really do,” Brim replied evenly, his palms forward to placate restless SEAL Team 18. “Loyalty’s a damned noble thing, and you’re right to stand by your chief. Walker’s one helluva good one. But what he really needs to know is precisely who’s behind all these lies. He needs to know why he’s been targeted.” Brim looked around the room as if letting that sink in. “Seems to me, all we’re looking at here is plenty of means and opportunity. But we ain’t yet uncovered intent or motive. Sure, some fat-assed admiral jerked a few chains and a couple of his boys yelled, ‘Yes, Sir!’ Then bent over and asked for another butt-reaming. Some chains of command work like that. But we still don’t know who’s behind this particular blanket party.”
“Peckering,” Izza cut in. “Look at the jerk. He’s breaking USN law like its nothing, and he’s proud of it.”
“Maybe,” Stewart replied quietly. “But we need to keep our eyes on the real target, not the smoke and mirrors.”
“And who would that be?” Izza growled. She seemed more than willing to square off with her boss. “Who’s got enough power to influence a Navy trial, plant evidence to incriminate him for crimes committed in England, at Buckingham Palace, for crap sakes? Then all the way across the ocean with the ICC? If it’s not Peckering, who the hell are we looking for, Boss? The President?”
“I’ve got a yacht,” Walker announced a little too loudly.
Stewart looked at him as if he’d sprouted two heads. “So?”
Walker ran a hand over his face, wishing he felt better. He might’ve thought of that earlier. Might’ve sounded smarter now. “I found something.” He stared into Brim’s knowing eyes. “I think I can prove intent. Might even be able to prove who’s pulling the strings behind this mess.”