Ghosts of the arizona, p.4
Ghosts of the Arizona, page 4
Kenny shrugged. “Anything is possible at this point. I know a lot of people think FDR purposely goaded Japan into making the first strike so he could turn America’s opinion on whether or not to enter the war.”
Weimanalo scoffed. “As if.”
“I know, I know,” Kenny said. “Many people think Roosevelt sacrificed over twenty-four hundred lives so we could declare war on Japan. Nothing will change their minds, as nothing will change ours.”
“But what if there was something on board the Arizona? Something that could prove definitively Roosevelt either knew or did not know that Japan would attack Pearl Harbor?” Weimanalo leaned forward, propping his elbows on his desk.
Kenny noted a particular gleam in his eyes, almost victorious.
“Cool your jets, sparky,” he said. “It’s highly unlikely such evidence exists, and even if it did, it wouldn’t be on the Arizona. It’d be back in Washington, D.C., probably buried in the National Archives undiscovered.”
“Many documents were lost when the Arizona exploded and the Oklahoma capsized.” Weimanalo went on as if Kenny hadn’t spoken. “What if something had survived for over eighty years underwater and Whalen found out about it?”
“And he snuck onto the Arizona looking for it?”
“He discovered some new information that pointed to a specific location on the ship, and he was trying to find it.” Weimanalo got up and began to pace back and forth behind his desk.
Kenny crossed his arms across his chest to show the chief his annoyance at being ignored. Weimanalo didn’t seem to notice.
“So, he thought if he found whatever it was, he could sell it or hold it for ransom,” the chief continued. “He would get the notoriety of finding definitive proof one way or the other, but he could not reap the monetary awards.”
“Yes; he’d get sent to prison for trespassing on government property and desecrating the resting place of hundreds of U.S. sailors.”
“But what form would such evidence have taken? Anything on paper would have disintegrated long before now.” Weimanalo put a hand to his mouth as if deep in thought and stopped pacing.
Kenny watched the chief for a few minutes as Weimanalo stood still, his eyes darting back and forth.
“Chief?”
Weimanalo didn’t respond and did not seem to have heard him.
Kenny cupped his hands around his mouth, forming a megaphone. “Earth to Keahi! Come in, Keahi. Can you read me, Keahi?”
Weimanalo jerked his head around at Kenny as he snapped out of his thoughts. “Huh? What? What were you saying?”
“Finally!” Kenny threw his hands up in frustration. “I was saying that no matter what Whalen found on the ship, he ran the risk of being prosecuted for violating a shrine.”
“Whatever he was looking for had to be well worth the risk.”
“This is nothing but conjecture,” Kenny said. “Perhaps his widow can shed some light on this. I think it’s time we spoke with her. Do you want me to talk to her?”
“That won’t be necessary,” a female voice with no emotion, yet condescending, said from the open door. Both men turned to see a man and a woman dressed in dark suits enter the room.
Kenny realized then there were disadvantages of having open-door policies.
“I’m Agent Regina Taylor,” the tall, African American woman said, holding out her identification badge and then snapping it back as if she didn’t want them to get a good look at it. She introduced her partner, a short, pale, red-haired man. “This is Agent James Chappell, and we’re from the Honolulu branch of the FBI. We are taking over this investigation, so you needn’t worry about interviewing the widow. We’ll take care of that and everything else from now on.”
Kenny and Chief Weimanalo exchanged incredulous looks. Kenny turned back to the agents. “Why is the FBI interested in this case? Isn’t this the Navy’s jurisdiction?” And why do FBI agents always dress so austere?
Agent Taylor regarded him with lowered eyelids as if he were nothing more than a fly on a window. “Psionic Officer Kenneth Nu’uani, main ability psychometabolic powers. Also possesses clairvoyance and telepathy. Limited telekinesis.” She sneered as she pronounced the last two words. She rattled off his statistics in a voice so stilted, it sounded as if she had just memorized the facts on the drive over here. And she didn’t answer his question.
“You forgot to mention expert surfer, a body to die for, and a top security clearance higher than yours,” Kenny shot back without smiling. A flutter in his mind’s eye told him the chief was struggling to keep a straight face. Agent Chappell did nothing to hide the scowl that crept across his features.
Gotcha, Kenny thought with satisfaction. He didn’t know exactly why the agent became angry—the top security clearance or the muscular physique—but either way, he was jealous. The tension in the room hung like static electricity.
“We are not intimidated by your powers, officer.” The redhead spoke for the first time in a gruff tone as if showing how brave and unflinching he was.
“No, but you will respect them,” Kenny returned, equally curt.
“Based on the report we received,” Agent Taylor jumped in, “this is a case of trespassing on U.S. Government property, in this instance, the National Park Service. We have to determine why he was there and if he removed anything from the USS Arizona.”
“Like what?” Kenny’s good nature was running low. “It’s an empty shell, and besides, it’s on a military installation. This should be investigated by the Navy.” He decided to bait them to see how far he could push them. How will they react? At least the chief would enjoy the fireworks.
“The military has no choice but to cooperate,” Agent Taylor said in a snippy tone.
If only it was that easy. “I know the commanding officer on Ford Island. Captain Brown is a great lady, but if you cross her or try to undermine or usurp her authority, she’s meaner than a rabid pit bull. Much better looking, though.”
“I’m sure the captain will be happy to hear that,” the chief muttered.
“She will have to oblige.” Agent Chappell echoed his partner’s tone and attitude. “And we won’t be needing your help.” He locked eyes with Kenny.
“Perhaps not,” Kenny replied. “But you will need my cooperation.” Why should Captain Brown have all the fun? “Otherwise, your investigation will be very difficult.”
“Don’t threaten us.” Agent Taylor stepped directly in front of Kenny, looking down her nose at him.
Now, Kenny struggled to keep a smirk off his face. How many people had thought they were superior to him because of their greater height? He couldn’t recall the number, but 100 percent of them regretted making that assumption.
“You will see,” Kenny responded, unperturbed. “You will need me.”
“I doubt that,” she said with a note of finality. She turned on her heel and swept out of the room, with Agent Chappell following her.
After the door slammed shut, Kenny looked at the chief. “Charming couple.”
“You don’t have that great of a body,” Weimanalo scoffed.
Kenny made two steps toward the door and placed his hand on the knob to give himself a head start. “That’s not what your mama said.” He raced out of the office, laughing and avoiding whatever it was the chief threw at him.
* * * *
Captain Karen Brown, Joint Base Commander of Pearl Harbor–Hickam, read the documents displayed on her computer screen, glancing through emails, responses from requests for proposals, financial reports, and vacation requests.
Six years I’ve been doing this, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. How many people get to work in paradise? She considered her own plans for time off. Well-deserved plans. People come here to the islands for vacation, so where should I go?
She turned her chair around to peer out the office windows. Ships, both military and civilian, cruised the channel, with the tropical setting beyond it. Clouds shaded some of the mountains behind Honolulu, while others remained in bright sunlight. A rainstorm created a rainbow that arched over the city.
A much better view than the airstrip I got from my first office when I was initially stationed here. She chuckled at the recollection.
Brown hoped her superiors in Washington, D.C., would approve her request to remain in command at Pearl Harbor–Hickman since her current assignment was coming to an end. However, with the discovery of a body next to the USS Arizona, who knew what the top brass was thinking? She had managed to get this far through perseverance and a strong work ethic, and she would use them now to handle this horrible conundrum.
With this confidence, the captain felt ready. She leaned back in her chair behind her large, meticulously organized desk and waited.
A knock sounded on her door. Before she could answer, Agent Regina Taylor stormed in, eyes blazing, and Jimmy Chappell followed right behind her.
“Captain Brown,” Agent Taylor said in a snippy tone. “The delay we experienced at your check-in point is inexcusable and unprofessional. Our credentials are in perfect order. There was no legitimate reason for why we were held up.”
Unruffled, Karen glanced at Agent Chappell. His face flushed bright red. She noted with some humor that it clashed with his hair color. “Only people with an active military status are allowed on base,” she snapped. “I needed to be assured of your identity before you were allowed access, agent. Your behavior at check-in was reprehensible and appalling.”
“Our credentials have never been questioned until today.” Taylor’s voice rose in volume.
“You’ve never been on my base before today,” Brown retorted. “Therefore, I had to be satisfied you were exactly who you claimed to be. Harassment and intimidation tactics on my MPs will not be tolerated. Ever.”
Taylor bit her lip but did not respond to Brown’s response. “We need to have any reports you might have on the body that was found near the Arizona.” She enunciated her words in clipped tones.
Captain Brown remained stoic. “I have not received any orders to release that information to you.”
“You were contacted by our Honolulu Bureau that we are in charge of this investigation now,” Agent Chappell said as if angered at being left out of the conversation.
Karen turned to look at him squarely. “I was phoned.” She spoke with disdain as if that method of communication was primitive and repulsive. “I have received no memo, email, or any other indication from my superior officer. Once I have his authorization, I can then give you the information you request.”
Regina looked at Jimmy, who mirrored her frustrated expression. With a huff, she pulled a cell phone from her pocket and made a presentation of punching buttons.
The captain sat quietly while Agent Taylor made and finished her call.
“May we have a seat?” Regina asked, the politeness in her voice sounding strained.
“By all means.” The captain waved a hand, inviting them to sit in comfortable chairs in front of her desk. They waited in silence for several long minutes until the phone on her desk rang.
“Captain Brown,” she answered. “Yes, sir.” She listened for a few moments and turned to her computer. After typing on the keyboard and moving the mouse, she sat back and read a message on her screen. Then, she laughed. “Yes, sir, I just got your email…I will. Thank you, sir.” She hung up the phone, still chuckling. “Now, I will get you the report.” Any smugness the agents might have felt for their small victory was trumped by the captain’s refusal to be abashed. Captain Brown reached for the receiver again. “Robin, please bring me the report on the diver found at the USS Arizona…. Oh, he is? Yes, have him bring it in, then.”
An instant later, Kenny breezed through the door, holding out a manila folder to Brown.
“Don’t you ever wear shoes, officer?” she asked, pretending to be appalled. Kenny glanced down at his flip-flops and back to the captain.
“Sh-shoes?” Kenny gave her a puzzled look. “What are these things you speak of…shoes?”
“Your wife can tell you all about shoes,” Captain Brown said. “I’m sure she has plenty, and they’re not all flip-flops.”
Kenny groaned, and the captain giggled.
“Speaking of Charlotte, congratulations! Kenny is going to be a new father,” she said to the agents, who appeared as if they could not possibly care less.
“How did you hear? Weimanalo? This is getting tedious being the last to know.”
“No, it was Governor Bradford. I think Mayor Correa told him.”
Kenny slapped a palm over his face. “Just how far out of the loop have I been?”
Captain Brown sensed the agents’ discomfiture at the easy exchange between her and the psionic officer. She enjoyed a good relationship with the HPD, especially with Psionic Officer Kenneth Nu’uani, whom she nurtured herself. Although she was not a native of Hawai’i, they understood each other.
She felt a small victory over the agents. They had no allies here. She had met their kind before. Other agents. Sheriffs. State troopers. Policemen. G-men. T-men. And women.
Captain Brown wondered if the agents realized they would have to be nice if they wanted to make any progress.
At least whatever level of “nice” they could attain.
“Chief Weimanalo called before you got here,” she addressed Kenny. “You do remember his mother passed away years ago, right?”
“That wasn’t the point.” Kenny gave her a sly grin, which answered her question.
“You guys are idiots,” she said, laughing.
When the agents left with the folder, Captain Brown propped an elbow on her desk and rested her chin in the palm of her hand.
“That went well,” she muttered. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen two FBI agents so keen to establish a pecking order.”
“I have a feeling they’re new,” Kenny said. “The new ones always seem to want to make a name for themselves right away, hoping it will shoot them up the ladder faster.”
“By being assholes?”
“I’ve never heard you curse before,” Kenny said, laughing.
“But I’m right, aren’t I?” She fixed a hard stare at him. “You used to be with the FBI before you went over to the CIA, right?”
“I admit we were young and cocky when we first burst onto the scene,” Kenny replied. “We had a sense of invulnerability. Fortunately, our powers were much weaker back then, but we’ve managed to learn the value of discretion, restraint, and humility—”
“Humility?” Karen could not keep the smirk off her face, ignoring Kenny’s glare.
“—but life handed down hard lessons,” he continued. “Maybe these two think by being assholes, they can get the answers they want. Time for us to hand out life lessons.”
Karen stopped giggling.
“All joking aside, I don’t like the tone these agents were using,” she said. “I know you’re not allowed to operate on U.S. soil like in your previous days.” She paused to roll her eyes. “But do you think Senator Hobbes will allow you to work with the Navy and Honolulu police? I can call in some favors or pull some strings if necessary.”
“Or you could just ask him. He’s ex-military himself, so he might be amenable to allowing me to help with the investigation. The chief and I were trying to figure out what Whalen might have been doing on the Arizona,” Kenny said. “Do you have any ideas?”
“Not a clue,” Karen said, shaking her head. “Our divers did not enter the ship since they couldn’t find any evidence he had been inside, other than the line and markers. The opening where our Navy divers enter when interring someone’s ashes is not very big. Nothing seemed to be disturbed, but it is hardly an empty shell. Cots, desks, dishes—all that stuff was left behind after she sank. I’m not sure what salvage operations were carried out after the crewmen were recovered. The explosion pretty much destroyed everything.”
“Important papers? Top secret orders?”
“They wouldn’t have survived the blast or survived lying in the sea for very long,” Karen said. “Look, Kenny. Taking something from that ship is akin to grave robbery. There isn’t anything that would have any archaeological importance. This is desecration of hallowed ground. The only thing Whalen would find is a trip to prison.”
“Why would he risk that?”
“We might never know,” Karen answered.
“Unless we can find his accomplice.”
“You don’t think he acted alone?”
“I’m certain he was murdered,” Kenny said. “By someone who knew what he was doing or, at least, suspected it. But why kill him? Was his partner-in-crime wanting to stop him from trespassing?”
“Seems rather severe,” Karen said. “Why not just tell him to stop?”
“Unless he wanted the booty for himself?”
“What booty?” Karen asked. “I told you, nothing’s there. Or maybe there is. I don’t know. If something of value has survived all this time, who knows how many others will come looking for it? We’d have to close the memorial and put in round-the-clock guards to keep people from sneaking in to find whatever it is.”
“The chief and I wonder if there might be documents that might shed light on the attack on Pearl Harbor.”
“What?” She gave him a stern look. “Have you two been hitting the wacky weed? Or have you both lost your minds? Even if something like that did exist, it would’ve been destroyed or lost decades ago.” She paused, noting the expression on Kenny’s face had not wavered. “Omigod! You’re serious!”
“To tell you the truth, Captain, we have no idea what the guy was up to,” Kenny said. “He took the reason for his quest to the grave. We have to focus on who wanted him dead and why.”
Chapter 5
December 7, 1941, 0445AM
Sub-lieutenant Yokoyama watched the two American ships close to the mouth of the channel through the periscope. The amount of radio chatter had exploded, and the boats’ paths indicated to Yokoyama that someone had spotted a mini-sub.
