Shadow Soldiers #4: Shadow Soldier Series, #4

By Wrathe W. Aceing

Shadow Soldiers # 4 Synopsis

Shadow Soldiers is a series of novellas focused on exploring the world of the soldier, especially how their code of ethics is affected by the challenges of real evil in the world today.  More morality plays than an action-adventure, these episodic stories ask the audience to judge their role in the world's challenges.

The Case of the Redhead's Mother - My daughter's chance encounter with Marie started an investigation that amazed me, and I am not one to be awed by this world—read on, and you too, will be amazed.

Passion's Reward - It was just another case requiring the talents of warriors with a heart.  Little did I know that it would change mine.  Well, I guess I knew.  There is something about Emily Burke-Hansen that…

Recon One - Forced to leave the Army, this soldier finds a new mission and a new reason to live the life he has chosen.

Wingman - An off-duty merc chosen to accompany one WCM legend gets caught up in two DC conspiracies and can only save one of his friends.

Armed Evil - Megs uncovers the lead she needs in her case against the Shining Blade and unravels her father's death, finding a witness from his past.  Going back to Washington, she confronts Percy Beneford on her own and sets unforeseeable forces into motion, culminating with the catastrophe in her father's favorite Irish pub.

• Language: English
• Publisher: vmPublishing
• Release date: May 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393392330

Book preview

The Case of the Redhead’s Mother

The Case of the Redhead’s Mother

Chapter 01 - Chance Encounter

Synopsis

My daughter’s encounter with Marie started an investigation that amazed me, and I am not one to be awed by this world—read on, and you will be amazed.

Tuesday’s stroll on the docks

Tillie, Elizabeth Martine Christian, is my daughter and the love of my life.  She is easy to spot in a crowd.  Her flaming red hair dancing in Bar Harbor’s autumn winds makes everyone want to dance along with her curls.

Tuesday afternoon means she is on her way to torment me with her chatter about painting and tickle my fancy with some delectable treat found on the docks.  It is our time to enjoy each other and eat something, not on the perpetual diet.

I already had Andrew prepare lobster rolls and set aside two pieces of Mother LouAnn’s Cheese Cake.  Life on the coast of Maine is as close to heaven as one can get.  And Tillie—well, Tillie is the angel that makes heaven worthwhile.

The commotion outside my dockside office meant she was close.  Shutting the laptop and grabbing my sweater, I headed for the door seeing her red hair bobbing merrily toward me in the crowd.  My heart fluttered like it always does in anticipation of being near her.  Yeah, I know guys aren’t supposed to gush, but daughters do something to a man that cannot be denied, and having a daughter who wants to be near you is something very special.

Closing the door, not worrying about locks in this friendly neighborhood, I turned just in time to hear her shout something and quickly change direction.

It didn’t matter if this was another game she made up or a real emergency.  Her shout sounded urgent, and I responded, making my way through the crowded dock and heading toward the entrance to the Charter Ferry Gate.  I reached her just as she accosted a girl attempting to enter the gate.

The girl spun around, anger showing in her posture as she brought her hands up, fists clenched.  Both girls stopped moving, and I almost fell over as I stared at the mirror image of my Tillie.

My place in this tale

Carlton Jeffrey Christian is the hereditary tag placed on me forty-two years ago by a Navy Commander from Annapolis, Maryland, and a history professor at the Coast Guard Academy in New London, Connecticut.  There is little question that my life would include the sea and a genuine love of this nation’s history.

I followed my father’s career in the Navy, providing intelligence developed by my deep knowledge of American history and my innate ability to find hidden messages in others’ actions.  I now continue my adventure of political intrigue through an independent consulting arraignment with the powers that be.  Some people retire.  I set up a shop on the East Coast and continued working with the spies of the world I deemed honorable.

After a difficult mission working with Blue and Joe, my career changed due to a baby girl found in a building’s rubble.  I stuffed her in my coat as I avoided bullets and falling walls, not caring if her screams gave away my position.  When the mission was over, the bad guys understood the justice Blue could dispense, the Navy got back its secret weapon plans, and I found another way of living that would include a rambunctious redhead. 

After an exhausting search—no family stepping forward—I adopted the little fireball and began an enriching life on the coast of Maine.  I set up a shipping agent’s office in Bar Harbor, Maine, and woke up each morning knowing that life was special with a redhead in it!

The gift of Marie

Marie Sally Moore had the same unruly red mop as Tillie and the same dancing green eyes that made laughter explode.  Time had chosen to slow or stop, and the crowds faded into the bright sunshine, reflecting off the harbor.  I stood quietly, awaiting the girls to make the first move.

I’m Tillie.  Er...  Elizabeth Martine Christian.  Do I know you?

No.  You are Martine, and I am your oldest sister, Marie.  The redhead reached for a chain around her neck and drew out a square locket that matched the one Tillie had when I found her.

Slowly, Tillie approached the girl, spreading her arms and walking into her embrace.

I would share lunch with two redheads this autumn afternoon and begin a mystery that would amaze even the spookiest of my spy-guys.

Chapter 02 – Morning Light’s Reveal

Excited chatter filled the wee hours of the night until just before dawn when both girls fell asleep on the blankets in front of the fireplace.  The reality of their relationship was easy to see.  First by their hair, then their marvelous attitude for life, and finally by the lockets they both held on to since time remembered.

Square in nature, they displayed a number and a name on one side.  Tillie’s had Martine and the number 4.  I had always assumed this to be the family name and made it her middle name on the adoption papers, knowing someday we would explore her ancestry.

Her locket lay open on the coffee table alongside Marie’s.  It was identical, except Marie’s showed the number 1 and Marie embossed on it. 

I made a pot of coffee, and while it brewed, I inspected both lockets.  It was evident I mistook Tillie’s first name for her family moniker. 

Can you believe it, daddy?  I have a sister!  Her voice echoed excitement and sleep as she entered my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck.

Look at her.  I could easily mistake her for you if you weren’t here.  I looked into Tillie’s eyes and smiled.  It seems we have a bit of mystery to solve.  If your locket has the number 4 and Marie’s the number 1, what about 2 and 3?

Shock and amazement bloomed on my daughter’s face, the excitement vibrating through her body as she stood, not knowing what to say.

I remember twins and a baby.  The voice came from the blankets, and we both turned to see Marie sitting up, watching us.

I remember getting this locket from Mama, and she had three others made up for my twin sisters and you.  I was the oldest, and we were separated only days after getting the lockets.  Mama went away with a man in the night, and I never saw her again.

Four girls separated from each other, and now two of them had the first clue to reunite the family.  Life was about to change.  My intelligence career made certain that coincidence did not play a role in this mystery.  My daughter’s joy made it the highest priority for me to undertake.  The mystery of the four redheads was about to take over my life.

Tillie planted a wet kiss on my cheek and ran over to the blankets to embrace her new sibling in a riotous jumble of laughter and tears. 

Getting up, I headed for the kitchen.  If we are going on an adventure, we better start with some food.  Marie, we like apples and bananas in our pancakes.  Is that all right with you?

The giggles and affirmative shouts gave me my orders as both girls raced up the stairs to prepare for the day.

The coffee in my mug had gone cold, and the well-cleaned dishes indicated appreciation for my cooking.  I held both lockets in my hand.  They felt like a special blessing.  I was about to ask a question when I noticed the locket clasps were different—one on the left side and the other on the right. 

Taking the two and aligning the prongs with the lid’s unused opening, they fit together, and there was an audible double click.  The top side of each opened, revealing a hidden compartment with an object neatly folded inside.

Carefully unfolding the piece of the photograph from each, several things became evident.  The black dot on the back of the photo was a microdot, and the cellophane tape covered a fingerprint and a droplet of blood.

One picture showed a baby of no more than three months, while the other showed a girl of maybe four years.  They were stirps of an original photo, missing the middle part.  The microdot was to be the first action of the Redhead Reunion Team.  I got up and headed for my room in the back—time to prepare for the adventure.  Our first stop would be a good friend who was also part of the shadowy world of espionage and a spy craft historian.  She had the equipment to read the microdots.

Chapter 03 – Hidden Message

The trip would take us to Castine, ME, and the Maine Maritime Academy.  Amber Williams Brown held a tenured professorship in International Commerce and Logistics.  She also maintained a worldwide network of agents working to destroy human trafficking. 

Amber dedicated her office to Mary Floyd Cushman, a doctor and missionary who attended the academy when it was called Eastern State Maine Normal School.  She kept the furniture sparse, honoring this remarkable woman, so I called ahead and had reservations for lunch at the Pentagöet Inn.  This call also assured Adam was the chef of the day and his Lobster Linguine was available.  I reserved the side porch so our conversation could continue beyond the fantastic culinary event.

Of course, after the visit, we would need to go to Amber’s lab to begin our meeting’s real work.  That lab was not on the Maritime Academy campus but hidden in an industrial area of the harbor town, protected by multiple intrusion barriers.  Amber Williams Brown was and always will be a spy for Her Majesty’s Naval Service.

Marie’s original itinerary to see Maine’s coastal sites elongated the two-hour trip from Bar Harbor to Castine.  I conducted the tour while Tillie navigated me to the next must-see place.  I planned plenty of time, and we arrived at the Pentagöet Inn fifteen minutes before our reservations.  Upon seeing Tillie, Amber sat on the front porch with a smile spreading as big as the ocean.  When Marie got out of the car, her jaw dropped, and for the first time in known history, my friendly spy was speechless.

Now, so you understand, I am the silent, stoic type of man.  The girls were certainly opposites.  If you desire more exhilaration in this story, you must get Tillie or Marie to provide the telling.  I can assure you that the banter around the table was like a pod of dolphins playing around in the harbor just for the pure joy of it.  We spent the time introducing Marie and fully enjoying the Pentagöet Inn cuisine.

The shadows indicated late afternoon as we walked to Amber’s lab.  Entering a warehouse used by multiple companies, we went through a small hallway to a hidden stairway that took us down what seemed to be two levels.  This opened into another nondescript hallway, but this one had operational security, requiring both handprints and eye scans from Amber to keep the gas in its canisters.

The door opened at the end of the hall, and we walked into a room that looked more like a captain’s cabin on a three-masted schooner.  Welcome to my home away from the sea.  Amber pointed to the couch as the appropriate place to gather.

Carlton, you can make the drinks.  We will be here a while.  She was already pulling out machinery she would need for her investigation.  Marie, could you help me set up the microfilm reader, and Martine, would you get that white cart over there for the DNA matching?

I found my place on the other side of the room, where a well-stocked wet bar stood ready.  Opening the fridge and freezer, I knew just what to make.  The A&W Root Beer and Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia® was the perfect concoction for all in attendance.  Three hours later, we had some very intriguing leads to go on. 

Now, the DNA testing will need completion, but we have, by all indications, siblings sitting here.  The droplets on the photos match each girl’s DNA contribution, and the two girls are close enough to be twins.  We have a match.  Amber set aside the medical charts and walked over to her desk.

Here is the interesting stuff.  Each microdot contains a message that seems to be a clue to finding one of the siblings.  First, Marie’s.  Amber turned the photocopy around so we could all read it.

Amber stared at the two girls and whispered, This clue would have stumped the best in my craft.  I think your running into one another is something beyond our understanding.  Your father and I, Tillie, do not believe in coincidence, but this is more miracle than tradecraft.

The room was quiet until Amber huffed and spun the next microdot photocopy.  Now, this one, Tillie, looks like a clue we can follow.

Who is Koma the Netmaker?  Tillie was both excited and confused.  What pearl?

Marie stood and picked up the sheet.  One of the twins is named Megan, Welsh for pearl.  I don’t know any Koma.

I believe we need to locate a harbor where they harvest pearls.  The first one that comes to my mind is Pearl Harbor.  The process of spycraft is understanding the truth from clues intended or happenstance.  This was right in my wheelhouse; I could see the girls were into the adventure.

Look! Amber pointed to the computer screen, Koma means Tom in Hawaiian.  I think you guys have a Hawaiian vacation to plan.

I believe you are right, except for one thing.  You’re coming too.  There will be clues when we find the pearl.  Are you in?

Amber’s eyes showed her joy, and she began to gather equipment to use on the road.

OK.  Figure on two weeks and pack lite for quick changes in destinations.  Let’s meet at my place tomorrow night, and I will handle the transportation from there.  I turned to the two girls seeing them nod in agreement.

Operation Redhead Reunion had momentum, with Amber making the first move.  I say daddy takes us all out for diner, and I pack my bags to go home with you tonight.  That way, we can move out once he books our transportation.

Chapter 04 – The Pearl

Getting places is one royal pain in the tuchas—Bar Harbor by van to Bar Harbor Airport, Cape Air puddle jumper to Boston Logan International Airport, Delta Air to Los Angeles, three-hour layover, and Delta Air once again to Honolulu for a final puddle jumper to Oahu and Pearl Harbor.

I had time with Marie during the trip, letting her reveal her history as she saw fit.

I lived in an orphanage, and they let me stay through high school.  When I turned eighteen, I had to leave, so I stored my junk with a friend in Arizona and used my savings to wander around the East Coast.  I had precious childhood memories–of being on the beach as the sun rose from the waves and playing on the docks when the lobster boats came into the harbor.  Her voice trailed off.

Well, now you have family and a new place to call home.  I looked at her making sure I didn’t upset her.  I wish I knew about you long ago.  What an amazing thing my life would have been with two redheads to chase!

She hugged my arm, placing her head on my shoulder, so I continued.  If you want, I can have some people get your stuff from Arizona.  There is a bedroom next to Tillie’s, and we can make two more rooms on the third floor for the twins when needed.

I could see the thoughts running around in her head, confusion festering.  No matter what you choose, I am here for you, Marie.  You are not alone anymore.  I patted her hand a looked out the window, giving her time to think.

We got a hotel in Honolulu for the night, awaiting a chartered helicopter to Oahu in the morning.  Pulling up to the Lotus Honolulu Hotel, I saw the balding pilot from years ago. 

The beachcomber shirt showed a bit of stretch near the waist, but his smile never aged.  The pilot was an old friend from my service days, and I booked him for the duration.  He knew the territory and the culture we were exploring.  Besides, Carter Trippet was always up for a mission.  He helped me solve the mystery of the Jade Trader when I first started consulting for the alphabet soup boys in Washington.

Uncle Carter!  Tillie was out of the van and running up the walkway just as we came to a stop.  Daddy didn’t tell me you would be here!  The conversation ended abruptly as the redhead jumped into the man’s arms, almost knocking him over.

I have an uncle?  Marie looked at me for direction.

Friend forever and someone you can trust with your life.  Tillie decided she wanted an uncle when he visited eight years ago.  I saw her smile.  He does like it.  Wait until he finds out about you.

Marie got out and approached the man with her sister wrapped around his neck.  He had been twirling her when he saw Marie and stopped abruptly.  Hi, Uncle Carter.  I am your niece, Marie.

Amber helped me orchestrate the rooms and get everything sorted.  Upon reaching my room, designated headquarters, my first order was to have each team member put together a go-bag for the morning.  Let’s meet at the seaside pavilion in one hour.  Carter, you are in charge of surfing lessons. 

The girls’ squeals, pulling their uncle down the hall, brought a smile to Amber’s face.  Thanks for bringing me.

I stopped, turned her to face me, and gently placed a kiss upon her cheek.  You are family Amber.  And if you want to be a mommy, I can arrange that.

She pushed me, but not away, finding a place beside me and hugging my arm as we walked to her room.

The Netmaker

Five adventurers descended on the dockside markets of Oahu with one common goal.  Find a man named Tom, who either made or mended nets for the fishermen.  The morning traffic hindered our exploration as the