My Kind of Town
>> Arizona Memorial Some vacation
He'd been here before when he was stationed at Pearl, but Lt. Martin Luther Washington, Navy intelligence officer, was playing the curious tourist to the hilt. Which wasn't all that hard to do. Heck, that's why he was in Hawaii, for a well-deserved vacation -- hitting the golf courses in the morning, the beach in the afternoon and Duke's or House Without A Key for sunset beverages. At least that was the plan until "Sandy" approached him at the Hale Koa and blurted a tale of treason and maybe terror. So here he was tailing a possible Muslim terrorist. Some vacation.
Marty stopped to admire the Arizona's mammoth anchor, more than twice tall as he was, and appeared to read the plaque. In fact he was keeping an eye on his gal Sandy, Rosalita Resurreccion and her daughter Elizabeth. Rosalita, like Sandy, appeared to be in her mid-20s. The petite Filipinas could have been sisters as they chattered. The girl was holding hands with the two young women, skipping between them, jumping into the air, swinging and laughing as they lifted her. Kids are kids, no matter the language.
Martin angled his left-tackle-size body away from them so they couldn't see his secure-line phone's ear piece. In which he heard his boss Commander Chuck Ryan say: "Flowers, Marty. That's why Muhammed came back to the van, to get a bouquet of flowers."
"Right, I saw them stop in Aina Haina to buy a bouquet." Before Ryan picked them up on the H-1.
"Looks like it's time to call in the posse."
"It's only flowers, chief. Lotsa folks take flowers out to the memorial."
"Did that myself the first time here."
"There you go."
"But something else happened in the van, Marty. It wasn't just grab the flowers and go."
"Maybe he also forgot his Tic-Tacs."
Marty saw Muhammed return, hand the flowers to the little girl, the group waltz past the security check. "Gotta go, chief."
"I'm on my way." But in fact, because Muhammed Resurreccion had obviously spotted his champagne Intrepid, Ryan felt constrained to stay in the car longer than he wanted. Muhammed had no doubt seen Ryan stopped beside Muhammed's van for the red light at Kalaloa. When he saw the same car in the parking lot, he was smart enough to suspect he was being tailed. Thank God, Ryan thought, for tinted windows. Muhammed didn't know who was inside the intrepid. And Ryan didn't want to be seen exiting the car.
So he waited. Precious seconds ticking away. Muhammed getting closer to his potential target. With a bouquet of flowers that Ryan did not trust.
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be emailed at dchapman@midweek.com