They all believed the attack would be aimed at a minimum of five targets, potentially on two bases, with the focus of the firepower on Little Creek. From the text conversations they had on Kinder’s computer, analysts believed bombs would be placed in key areas of the base.
Today, the search would continue for the five men with base access who’d likely been scouting and planning for months.
Were the explosives already planted on Little Creek and Dam Neck and just needed to be moved into position? Or would they attempt to get five—or more—bombs onto the base with heightened security after the shooting last week?
Little Creek didn’t always have explosive-detecting dogs at the gates, but they did this week, although they could get false positives with illegal fireworks being brought on base by dumbass sailors.
Last week’s shooting might have seriously disrupted the planned attack, but the team was operating under the assumption that it was still a go, even though Kinder was dead.
Of the remaining conspirators, three were federal employees and two were civilian contractors. Like Kinder, one worked for Fleet and Family Readiness. Another was a civilian who worked for the maintenance department. The third worked at the base gym. The contractors worked for the base housing program and had access to all the bases in the region.
The maintenance worker was their top priority. He had access inside buildings others wouldn’t have. Ben Kinder had likely handled the IT component, but Max Byrd would be the man who was hands on with explosives and wiring.
Teague and his team spent the earliest hours of the day learning everything they could about the fireworks barge. Setup for the show would begin at 0700 and was expected to take a minimum of seven hours. The setup area was secure, with a highly visible but nonmilitary presence.
They wouldn’t tip their hand by going in hard early.
After setup was complete, there would be a lengthy safety inspection, then the barge would be towed into place, which would take about two hours. The tug would then hold the barge in place. All vessels would be prohibited from entering a 1000-foot zone around the barge.
As they’d been told last night, the barge would have six crew members and one licensed pyrotechnician controlling the fireworks—synced to music being played on the radio—working behind two steel containers for protection.
Teague was divided on whether he wanted to be assigned to the barge or the base during the show. Not that his preference would play a role in assignments, but he wondered where he could do the most good.
This wasn’t Teague’s first or even second op since he’d returned to active duty and joined this team. But it felt like the most significant op of his life. The Lake Olympus Lodge Exercise didn’t count because it wasn’t supposed to be an op at all, and he’d been useless to his team except for being able to tell investigators what happened from his hospital bed when it was all over.
Tonight could be his redemption. His chance to honor his dead Fire Team members: Odent, Mueller, and Hobbs.
He’d been useless to them in the woods. He wouldn’t fail them now.
Rand finished tending Kira’s wounds—applying antibiotic ointment and bandages to the back of her legs—then they joined the SEAL Fire Team in the galley so she could eat and get up to speed.
“You’re based at Little Creek?” she asked, after being introduced again now that her mind was clear.
“Yes, ma’am.” The man who answered was achingly young. Early twenties.
“We watched the video. Of you and…your brother,” another SEAL said. “I think it’s safe to say there isn’t a SEAL in the Navy who isn’t grateful for what you risked to get that intel.”
Her eyes burned. She pushed the surge of emotion down. “I’m just glad I made the connection to Benny and that Reuben confirmed the attack is today.” She smiled at Rand as he set a plate of food before her. Cheese and fruit pastizz along with scrambled eggs loaded with vegetables. It smelled heavenly and tasted even better.
While she ate, they all discussed when and how they would approach the Kulik estate. If they went too far in advance of the firework display, it could tip off Reuben that his plan was compromised. No one had left the Kulik estate, which meant Reuben had no idea she wasn’t quietly dying alone in the crypt.
If he visited the crypt, Kira and her SEAL companions would show up along with police, as that would give them the proof they needed to show he’d been the one to leave her there. Plus, authorities in Malta were bound to be upset that Reuben hadn’t informed them of what was destined to be a World Heritage Site, which he was using as a dumpsite for non-Neolithic human bodies.
But if Reuben didn’t return to the crypt, there was nothing they could do to convince anyone in Malta to make a move against one of the island’s wealthiest Russian residents.
The Navy had confirmed they still had nothing to directly tie either Kulik or Laskin to the conspirators in the US. The text message didn’t count when they didn’t know whose cell it was. They would likely blame it on Nadia, who’d admitted to sending messages from Aleksandr’s account.
It could take weeks to find a way to prove Ben Kinder was the boy Kira had known as a child. If his last name wasn’t Kinder, they might never know who he really was.
They were looking for connections with the other conspirators, but so far had come up with nothing. It was likely Reuben had chosen Benny to go after her because he knew her personally.
Again, sadness hit her as the depth of how awful the brother she’d loved—and now one of her playmates—had become. She was going to have to figure out how to process gaining and losing a brother all at once.
Grief and anger warred for first among her emotions. She grieved for that boy, but she hated the man who’d gleefully kicked her in the ribs, then dropped her in a crypt.
What would she do if he remained untouchable to the law when all this was over?
Chapter Fifty-Nine
They found the first body at 0940 in a dumpster behind the gym. The gym employee had been dead before Kira Hanson identified Ben Kinder as her childhood playmate.
The second body turned up an hour later. The Fleet and Family Readiness employee who worked directly with Kinder appeared to have succumbed to carbon monoxide poisoning in his girlfriend’s garage. It was lucky the girlfriend found him before the poisoned gas seeped into the house and killed her too.
She was being questioned by investigators—both local police and the FBI—but was likely to be a dead end. An innocent bystander who’d been dating the man for less than two months. So far, the only item of note was that the guy had moved in with her last Tuesday, after a pipe burst in his apartment.
The guy had lived near and worked with Kinder, and he’d switched addresses the day Kinder opened fire on base. He’d shown up for work on Wednesday, before Kinder was identified, and had subsequently been interviewed along with Kinder’s other coworkers after the identification came through. He hadn’t shown up for work again after that.
Now he was dead.
And then there were three.
Teague was pumped. It didn’t matter that he’d barely slept since Sunday. This was what they trained for. They were close and getting closer.
Especially now that the base housing agency finally gave NSWC a list of all the empty housing units on Little Creek and Dam Neck. Hours late, but better than never. They couldn’t exactly search occupied homes on both bases. There were far too many.
