Epilogue
Two days before Christmas . . .
The armory that Myra and Annie had rented for the veterans’ first annual Christmas party was a winter wonderland, with wall-to-wall fresh Christmas trees with colored lights, hanging garlands, mountains of presents lined up under the wall-to-wall trees, just waiting for the vets and their families to open them. Christmas carols could be heard playing in the background, putting a happy smile on everyone’s face, especially the vets’, who wore the happiest smiles that people were finally doing something for them. Not to them. All were dressed in their finest, even the children, who waited with stars in their eyes to see Santa, aka Charles, make his appearance. Not a thing had been overlooked—even Lady and her pups, Cyrus, and Murphy posed as reindeer, to the children’s delight.
Tables of food were everywhere, most of it donated thanks to Annie’s relentless hounding of the local businesses and the promise of free advertising in the Post.
Myra tactfully nudged Annie toward the door. “Something is bothering you, Annie, I can tell. Want to talk about it? By the way, everyone is here but Dennis. Isn’t he coming?”
“He said he was coming, but he had the week off, said he had some business to take care of before Christmas. I don’t think he would miss this party. Something is bothering me, but it can wait till later. Oh, look. There’s Dennis now! Great. Everyone is here!”
Dennis waved and headed in their direction, weaving his way through the crowd, but stopped when he got to Harry. They watched him smile and hand Harry a slip of paper. They looked at one another when they saw Harry hug the young reporter. Harry Wong was not a touchy-feely kind of person. Not ever.
“How did you do it, Dennis?” The relief in the martial-arts expert’s voice convinced Dennis he would walk through fire for his friend Harry, if need be.
“After we got back, I went to that supper club and met with Carlie Fisher. I asked for the videos, and she just handed them over. They only had time to burn sixty-four of them. All you have to do is go to the Post, turn in this ticket, and Lost and Found will turn them over to you. I offered to pay for the videos, but she said no, that there was enough money in the business account to pay back all the people who had ordered them. She’s hired people to help her close up the Sanderses’ Supper Clubs. She told me that when she went to the office after she got back, there was a letter for her and a check for a million dollars for her years of loyal service. She was crying.”
“She had no idea what was going on behind the scenes,” Harry said. “The Sanderses ran a tight ship in that respect. It’s over now, and we’re on to our next mission as soon as Jack tells us what it is.” He jerked his head in Jack’s direction.
“Wonder what he and Mr. Sparrow are talking about. They look . . . intense. Harry, did Snowden ever find out what happened to Ms. Sanders? The last thing I heard, his associate was at the airport outside San Francisco when the private plane she had hired landed. And that when no one other than the pilot got off, he went looking for her. But she was nowhere to be found. And the pilot said that he had no idea what Mr. Snowden’s man was talking about, that he had just flown the plane in from a small airfield near Denver, and there was no passenger on the plane when he got to the plane.”
“Well, Dennis, that’s what you get for taking a vacation and going off the grid. Two days after you left, Avery caught up with the pilot who had flown the plane to Colorado. And here is what he learned. About two hours into the flight from Miami, a message came, telling the pilot to land at that small airfield outside Denver and saying that Ms. Sanders and the pilot were to get off. Another pilot would take the plane to San Francisco. There was also a message for Ms. Sanders, to be given to her if she balked at the change in plans, which, the pilot said, she did most vociferously.”
“What,” Dennis asked, really interested now, “did the message say?”
“Here’s what’s interesting. According to the pilot, what it said was that going to San Francisco was as good as going back to that trailer in Alabama. And when she heard that, Ms. Sanders looked like she had seen a ghost. And then she started to bawl like a baby. And when she calmed down, he heard her mutter to herself something that sounded like, ‘Maybe I’ll get that conveyer belt yet,’ which left him shaking his head and thinking she must be nuts. And, no, I have no idea what she could have been talking about.
“Anyway, the pilot landed outside Denver, he and Ms. Sanders got off, and he was given ten thousand dollars in cash and told to take a nice vacation somewhere for ten days or two weeks, preferably in South America or the Caribbean. Seems the guy had always wanted to go to Rio, so that’s where he went. And Snowden’s people had no idea where to look for him, so it was not until he returned home that they found him.”
“Holy cow,” Dennis said. “That must mean—”
“Yeah, that’s what we figured, too. Somehow, someway, Gabe Sanders learned what was going on and figured that if Toby had ratted them out, there was no way that Pilar could get away by flying to San Francisco from Miami. So he set up this diversion, and, we think, the two of them probably flew off into the sunset. I guess maybe he really did love her. So, we may not have caught the Sanderses. But the mission is over. It’s done, finished. We took a ton of drugs off the street. Hopefully, we managed to keep a lot of kids safer.”
“I know, I know, but in the end, I think she was trying to make up for it. She could have just walked away and not paid anyone anything. Instead, she gives Carlie Fisher a cool million. She takes care of all the dancers. She forgives Toby and did not even appear to have any hard feelings. Like you said, it’s over and done with. The DEA is happy, that’s for sure. Man, those two look like thunderclouds. This is supposed to be a party. I’m going over there to see what Jack and Mr. Sparrow are looking so hyper about.”
“Who is the present for?” Harry asked as he pointed to the gaily wrapped gift in Dennis’s hands.
“It’s for all these people,” Dennis said, waving his arms about.
“You bought it, didn’t you? You sly son of a gun! You went back to Florida. You bought the Pink Pelican!”
“Shhhh. Yeah. I did. Got it for a good price. My plan is . . . keep half for use by the public to bring in revenue and the other half for the veterans to enjoy free of charge. No one will get turned away. That’s Annie’s mantra these days. Lots and lots of job openings, in case any of them are looking for jobs. It’s a work in progress.”
“That’s a great thing you did, kid. Really great. The big question is, who are you going to get to run it?”
“That’s all taken care of. But until the deal is signed, I can’t say a word. You’re smart, Harry. Figure it out. Who isn’t here tonight? Look over at Annie and Myra. Then look at Sparrow and Jack.”
Harry turned statue still as he looked at Annie and Myra and read Annie’s lips.
“Let’s take this outside, Myra, and have a cigarette,” she said.
“We don’t smoke, Annie, and we don’t have any cigarettes.” Nonetheless, Myra followed Annie to the great doors that would lead them outside into the blustery December coldness.
“I know, but Sparrow does, and Jack does once in awhile. They’re going outside, too. We can bum one off them. Pick up your feet, Myra. Something is going down, or it already went down.”
Outside, the foursome fired up cigarettes, with Annie and Myra coughing and sputtering while Sparrow and Jack drew smoke into their lungs.
“Okay. What is it?” Annie snapped. “We heard about your mission and how both Mr. and Ms. Sanders outwitted you. It happens. Remember, we lost Hank Jellicoe twice. Sooner or later, you’ll catch them, just like eventually we’ll get Jellicoe. You can run, but you can’t hide forever. Now spit it out. What’s going on?”
“Like you don’t know,” Jack muttered.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking. So . . .”
“Why didn’t you tell us Bert Navarro resigned?” Sparrow asked.
“Because I just found out this morning, and as you can see, I’ve been rather busy with this party and all. He sent me an e-mail. It’s not the end of the world. Hong Kong is up and running, and his replacement is first rate. No worries. I told him he could name his price and continue to run Babylon, but he turned me down. Why does this concern you two? It’s business. No one, not even Bert, is indispensable.”
“He’s in town,” Sparrow said. “He went by the Hoover Building this morning to see me, and my old secretary told him where to find me. He came out to the clinic. The thing is, he wasn’t alone.”
“You gonna make me pull it out of you, Mr. Sparrow?” Annie said.
“He had his . . . there was . . . His . . . fiancée was with him. You don’t know this yet, but Dennis bought the Pink Pelican in Miami. He’s turning it over to you this evening, the deed, that is. He hired Bert to run it. Bert said yes. That’s all I know, and I wish I didn’t know that.”
They all asked the same question at the same time. “Does Kathryn know?”
Four cigarettes dropped to the ground. Four shoes stomped on them. Four people picked them up and dropped them into a trash bin by the massive doors.
“I didn’t ask, but I’d say from observing Kathryn this evening that the answer is, no, she does not know,” Sparrow said, holding the door open for the women to go through first.
“Just in time. Santa is about to take center stage. The military chaplains are all lined up to give their blessing. We all need to say a prayer,” Annie said, a catch in her voice.
Once the prayer was over, the portly Santa waved his arms. “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
All the reindeer barked.
“Merry Christmas,” everyone shouted at the same time.