CHAPTER 13

It was something that was both, taking an enormous amount of internal fortitude, and completely unexpected. Of all the things that John Snow had thought about, as far as his return to the civilian world, this was a consequence that he had not. His mother was yelling it from downstairs and John wanted to take his pillow and rap it around his ears every time he heard the word, “JACK!” It was a name that only his family ever used and was a moniker that John was not particularly interested in picking back up.

The only way to get her to stop was confront her and that had to be done in person. John stumbled out of bed, down the stairs, and into his mother’s kitchen. He was rubbing his chin and missing his beard, the entire way. He found his mother making tea and his little brother, Jacob, sitting at the table with his attention evenly divided between the game in his hand and the television in the other room. John decided to ignore both of them and went right for the cabinet where he had stored the American styled coffee that he bought at the Coven Hill duty free on his way back home. He had acquired a taste for it over the last couple of years.

Jeannette Snow did not repay her eldest son’s compliment. She watched him begin to prepare his coffee and, with a hand on her hip, she told him, “I hope that your agenda, today, includes following up on that job that I told you about. Mister Watkins is not the kind to be kept waiting, Jack. Your thirty-seven years old and you’re not going to be staying here rent free. Is that clear?”

John wandered over and kissed his mother on the forehead as he filled a pot from the tap. As he went to put it on the stove he told her, “Mom, do you remember how old I was when I joined the Navy?”

The matron Snow acted as if it were a silly question, “course I do, you were eighteen.”

“Well mom,” John told her, “since you know those two numbers then maybe you also remember a little arithmetic?”

“I get your point Jack,” why did she keep calling him that! Jeannette continued, “you are trying to tell me that you’re grown up and do not need your mother reminding you of what needs be done. Well, when you start acting it…”

“No mother,” John replied, “what I’m telling you is, that if you do the math, I retired and I’m drawing a pension. I don‘t really need a job right now.”

His mother blew that notion off with a wave of the hand, “that’s what your father said when he retired from the RAF. I remember that crabby little pension he got. He never stopped working and…”

“Mom,” John told her with a wave of his own hand, “I don’t plan on stopping anything. I also don’t plan on staying here ether.”

Why was it the woman acted like he was committing a capital crime until he told her he was not going to do the very thing that she was peeved about? The proof of that was where she took the conversation, “you think Carol is going to take you back? As much as I liked her, I really don’t see that happening, Jack. For that matter, when do I get to see my granddaughter again? It would be nice if…”

“I’m going into the city, today, mom,” John replied.

That confused Jeanette, “I thought she was in New York?”

After taking a sip of his fresh coffee, he told her, “a little bird told me she slipped back in to London a couple of weeks ago.” John had a few ideas as to why she did it too. He did not figure the timing was exactly a coincidence either. Carol was too shrewd to have made such a mistake. The girl calculated everything she did and usually had a lot of reasons for each in every step of her well laid plans. It was her business, after all, and one that she used to run her personal life as well.

Jeanette Snow was not so impressed, “that posh little tart. If she was back in England the least she could have done was call me so I might see my granddaughter.”

As John walked out of the kitchen he kissed his mother on the forehead once more and told her calmly, “I’m sure she’ll get around to it.”

Before John could hit the stairs his little brother flagged him and pointed at the television. Jacob was all of seventeen, was at the ‘rebel without a clue’ phase in life, and did not seem to have given much thought to finding a way out of it like his older brother had. John had always longed for the adventurous, and romantic, life that mystically surrounded the Royal Navy. Now that John had gotten all that he had asked for he was sort of wishing that he had listened to his old man. Still, it was more than Jacob seemed to have.

What the kid brother was pointing at was all that kids, these days, ever seemed to talk about. John caught a glimpse of the elf that was being hounded by news camera’s on the way to his car. This particular Fey, seemed to like the more ceremonial dress that most elf’s only wore for important occasions. John was not exactly sure who the Fey was but, the clothing did tell him what the Fey was. It was still not a question that John was ready to answer. He blew off his kid brother, “never met the guy.”

Jacob got up from the table and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. John had already reached the top and he stopped there as Jacob called up to him, “I told some of my friends that you’d like, been there. Think you might come down to the pub sometime? We all hang out at the Cross and Crux. You remember Sheila, right? She asked about you too. Wanted to know if you were still married and…”

John raised a hand, “maybe some other time. I’ve got business to take care of.”

Before John could walk back in his room, his mother showed up next to his brother, and she crabbily asked, “what about Mister Watkins?”

“Mom,” John explained, “I’m not going to be a plumber. Now, excuse me.”

After getting dressed, John decided to walk down to the train station. He realized that he was eventually going to have to get a car but, for right now, it was not that critical. He also realized that he was going to have to find some kind of job because, what he would not admit to his mother was, she was right. His pension, particularly after paying off his ex-wife, was pretty pathetic. Being a plumber though? Why was it the universe kept telling him to do that?

All of his future plans were, right now, side issues. The main reason that John walked to the train station had very little to do with the fact that his mother did not live so far from it. It was equally true that such a walk was nothing for him right now. The gentle and flat sidewalks of Chelmsford was nothing compared to the hills and forests of the Hurt Again and he had been crawling all over those for going on two years. The main reason that John decided to walk today was because he kept seeing a familiar face that was, not so familiar.

That was why John stepped in to the doorway of a shop and let the guy walk right past him. When John stepped back out, behind the man, he decided to ask, “you’re too good to have missed my duck and cover, so what is it you want?”

The man stopped, slowly turned and wisely kept his hands plainly visible. He was even smiling and when he spoke, his accent surprised John. The odds of this man being who he thought, just dropped dramatically. The chances of a German being one of them was extremely unlikely. “Commander Snow, I’m glad you understood the message.”

“I’m not a commander anymore,” John told him. “Since you want to talk and you know all about me, how about lets talk about who you are.”

“I am reaching in my coat now,” the man told him and did only what he said. The guy used two fingers to produce a small leather bound wallet that he slowly handed over to Snow. John flipped it open and looked inside, “Interpol?”

“Inspector Sepp Dechert,” the guy said with a nod. “I suppose you might be wondering why I want to talk to you.”

John handed the wallet back and was a bit skeptical when he replied, “you could have just called me.” Then John locked eyes with the guy and said, “but I don’t have to ask you why you wanted to watch me, or talk, or whatever you think you’re doing.”

As he put his wallet away he said, “of course you don’t Commander. The real question is, how much do you really feel like saying?”

John shrugged, “I got nothing to say and that’s not blowing you off inspector. I don’t know anything you might be interested in. I’m getting on with my life and anything you people might be interested in is back over my shoulder.”

That seemed to amuse the German cop. He decided to pay the turn of phrase a compliment by looking back over his shoulder and then saying, “you were walking to the train station, no?”

“I’m going into London,” John told him, “is that a crime?”

“I suppose,” Sepp replied, “it would greatly depend on why.”

John snorted a short laugh at the guy, “you already know or you wouldn’t have asked. The problem is, that’s not a crime ether.”

When the German said nothing in return, John excused himself and got back to his journey. Then it seemed as if this guy had taken a page right out of Jeanette Snow’s playbook. He called out to John and said, “I suppose you don’t know a great deal about Lord Somerset, do you?”

That stopped John in his tracks. He walked back up to the German, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Let me return the favor, Commander,” Sepp replied. “You would not have asked me that question if you did not already know the answer?”

“All I know,” John told the man in a very agitated tone, “is what the Polizei told us.”

Dechert seemed to find it all amusing, “yet, your tone says otherwise Commander. You suspect something, now, just as you did then.”

“What I suspect, Inspector,” John told him before walking away for good this time, “is that I wasn’t there. I don’t know anything worth knowing, and my personal opinion doesn’t mean much of anything, nicht wahr?”

At least the Interpol agent did not try and follow him as John walked to the train station and caught the next ride to London. He pretended not to be shaken by his little interview and with good reason. If he had sniffed out Dechert then the odds were that there were a few more that he had not. There was also more to worry about than just Interpol, if that was who Dechert really was in the first place. It all seemed to give John another good reason, and in this case a very critical one, to go thru with his plan.

John wasted no time when he got to London. He found the dance club he was looking for and, was surprised that it was actually open. John had always figured that it’s patrons were more of the night crowd. That was why he was also surprised to see that it had more than a few customers. The place was not exactly bursting at the seems, as was the normal fare in the evenings and nights. It was busy though. John figured that was good enough for him as he pulled the bartender off to a side.

Brad was not exactly unique in London and particularly not these days but, he was not so common either. He was an American and, he owned the club as well as occasionally working the bar which, he basically did because he enjoyed it. At first, Brad was happy to see John and then he became a bit concerned, “wait a minute. You’re back, you’re out, and now you’re in London today.” When John did not say anything, Brad told him, “today, as in, you know, today.” Then Brad blew out with, “are fucking stupid!”

“I need to cash in a favor Brad,” John told him. That made Brad very nervous and John told him, “not that kind of a favor. I want a suit.”

Brad went from nervous to just plain scared, “I knew it! You are…” A thought hit Brad and then he became more subdued but, still, cautious, “wait a minute, what kind of suit? You plan on pulling a job cause, well, that I might could help you with and…”

John remained passive as he interrupted his old comrade, “you know where I’m going, already. Everybody seems to know.”

Now terrified would best describe Brad, “everybody as in??”

“Interpol paid me a visit this morning,” John replied.

Now Brad went from terrified to confused, “oh?” He thought about it and then asked, “what the hell would they want with you?”

John snorted out, “do you have a suit, or not?”

“Don’t know how much good it’ll do you,” were Brad’s words that echoed in John’s mind as he waited till late evening. The simple fact was that Brad could very well be right. John had something of a plan but, he had no idea if it would really work. He did not figure he had much to loose by trying except, maybe, getting arrested?

John showed up at the front gate of the Feyland Embassy, dressed for the occasion, and chatting with other’s in line as he waited. He found some of the people, who were waiting in line with him, to be very interesting and more than a little surprising.

The guy in front of him was dressed in a tuxedo but, otherwise, looked pretty scruffy for this event. In fact, he looked scruffier than John normally did while humping it in the bush. The little girl that was with him, that John would discover was the guy’s sister, looked like she belonged at least. Both of them were most definitely American’s and, not just that, John could tell they were from the southeast by the peculiar way they lazily used their words.

John finally had to ask the guy, “so exactly how did you get invited to the Embassy dinner?”

It was the little blond headed girl who answered, “he’s an anthropologist.”

That caused John to raise an eyebrow, “student?”

The older brother replied, “naa, Phd.”

The only Doctorate that John could ever have imagined this guy having was one in the science of Harley Davidson motorcycles. Still, John had to admit, Doctor Mike Greene had a pass and he did not. All of this came up when they walked to the next security point and he was standing next to a woman with a clipboard who was looking for his name on a list, “I’m sorry Commander but, I don’t see your name anywhere.”

As John had expected, someone else showed up almost immediately. David Cross told the woman, “don’t worry, I’ll handle this one. Commander, if you’ll follow me please.”

As John walked off with the northerner he had to quietly ask, “so David, you going to shoot me, have me beat up or, just toss me out on my ear.”

“None of the above mate,” David replied. He stopped when they were far enough away from the stream of guests and then he squared off with his fellow commando, “why are you here John? I mean really here?”

That almost made John want to laugh but, he held it back as he pointed out the irony, “why is it you seem to be the only person that doesn’t know where I’m going and why?”

“Oh I know why,” David replied, “thought I might give you a chance to surprise me. I might even believe you aren’t insane. I suppose I should go ahead and tell you, Amanda isn’t here and Carol is not about to talk to you so, you’re wasting your time and mine.”

Before John could say anything about it, David’s phone beeped and he answered it. As he listened, his eyes drifted up and looked John over. David also acted a bit agitated as he replied, “I don’t think that’s a good…” David shut up again and finally just said, “yes sir.” After he slid the phone back in his pocket he told his former team mate, “congratulations Mister Snow, you were just added to the last minute arrivals list. Enjoy your stay.”

John did laugh as he asked, “who likes me? Oh wait, don’t tell me, Cavendish?”

David rolled his eyes, “please, you’re not that important.” When it looked like John might make an ass of himself, trying to find out, David relented, “it wasn’t anyone you know. Wasn’t even human, he’s an elf, secretary to the Ambassador and this is, after all, their embassy.”

John thought about that and then had to ask, “Noveus-Faeyu?”

Cross corrected him, “Olyan-Notae. You know how they are. Apparently your service rendered to the Feyland Empire did not go unnoticed.” Cross snorted his own laugh now, patted John on the arm, and then said, “like I said, enjoy your stay.”