Author: Susan K Smith
Last saved by: Nova

The Commander and the Chief

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Book 1

His Tribe of One

by S. K. Smith

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© 2014 by
S. K. Smith

All rights reserved.  No part of this work may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the author, except in cases of brief quotations embodied for the purposes of critical articles or reviews.
The characters, settings, and situations are all fictional.  Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is pure coincidence.
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This book is dedicated to the memory of Nicholas Lemos.

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Part 1
Chapter 9
Wakeup Call

Commander Reginald Barrett’s world started coming back.  He heard some strange – and not so strange – voices talking around him.  
Am I in hospital?
He was lying on something soft and felt the weight of a blanket on him.  His feet were propped up.  His head rested on something fluffy.  A damp towel covered his brow and eyes.
“Is he gay, Colonel?”  Reggie heard an unfamiliar female voice with an American accent.
“What makes you say that, doctor?”  He recognized Colonel Jack Sheffield.
“Because he’s wearing an earring in his right ear.”
“So?”
“Don’t know about England, but in America that could signal he’s gay.”
At that point, Reggie pulled the towel off his head and opened his right eye.  He saw a large Indian woman – one of those Native American kinds – bending over him.  He gasped.
Kaya turned to Nova.  “He’s okay.” 
“Wha- what?”  Then Reggie saw the second woman, the one he had first heard talking.  She, too, was scrutinizing his condition.
Immediately, Reggie felt his heart palpitate with symptoms of transient idiopathic arrhythmia as he scrutinized this woman right back.  Shiny dark hair framed her lovely face punctuated by deep brown eyes over high cheekbones.  A gold cross hung from her lovely neck.  For a moment, he thought he had seen her before.  Somewhere.  Maybe in a forgotten dream.
“I assure you I am not gay, madam,” Reggie found his voice.
Nova’s brown eyes opened wide.  “You heard me talking?”  
He returned a roguish grin, eying her curves that contoured her fluffy white robe.  “You know hearing is the last sense to go and the first sense to get recovered, darling.”
“Darling?”  She tilted her head back.  
“Pardon my rudeness for not properly introducing you two, Commander Barrett.”  Then Wise moved in closer and lightly touched Reggie’s left eye, which was swollen shut.  “But first, let me get some ice for that, old boy.” 
Reggie rolled his good eye to his chum, Colonel Jack Sheffield.  “Where am I, Jacko?”
“A very posh suite in the Gladstone Hotel.”  The Colonel put a hand on Reggie’s shoulder.  “At least you woke up in a high class place this time.”
“How’d I end up here?”
“We collected you off the street and had one bugger of time getting you up here.  Wise got a baggage cart, and we took you up the lift.”
Wise pressed a plastic bag of ice to the left side of Reggie’s face.  “You know, Commander, this reminds me of the time I was in Her Majesty’s service, and one of the lads fell in love with one of the local women, and he got into quite a row with one of her male relatives who took offense–”
Reggie peeked under his blanket.  “Where are my clothes?”  
“If you pardon me, you were rather soaked to the bone, old boy, so we took the liberty of stripping your wet garments while you were … indisposed.”
“So you left me bloody naked?”
“Your clothes are being laundered.”  Wise picked up a plush white robe from the end of the couch.  “Meanwhile, the hotel has provided this.”  Then Wise signaled the women to look away.
“I shall avert my eyes,” Nova said in a put-on southern accent as she gave a sidelong smile to Wise.
“Avert your eyes?”  Reggie wrinkled his nose. 
“It’s an inside joke between us … my client … she is part Cheyenne.”  Lord Wise grinned at Commander Barrett.  “The line comes from the old American movie – Little Big Man.”
“The one that ends with General Custer meeting his Waterloo, Reg,” Jack explained.  
Slowly, Reggie sat up.  His head was swimming.  He ached – all over.  With help from Wise and Jack, he slipped on the thick robe, embroidered with the Gladstone crest.  He let out a few groans as he sat back into the couch.  
“Perhaps we should have taken him to hospital, Colonel,” Wise said.  “This reminds me of the time when my Great Uncle Rupert banged his head–”
“No, don’t take me there.”  Reggie rubbed his temples.  “I’ve had enough of hospitals.  I’m bloody sick of them.”
“Here, take.”  The older Native American Indian woman presented a mug of hot tea and a couple of aspirin tablets. 
Reggie didn’t know why, but he obeyed the older woman as he would his own mother.  He downed the aspirin chased by a gulp of tea, which tasted wonderful.  Then he examined the two women standing in front of the marble fireplace.  
The older one in the brown caftan looked definitely like a Native American Indian.  The younger one, though, was more exotic, her ethnicity more ambiguous.  She, too, donned a white robe with the Gladstone crest embroidered on the front pocket.  
He took a few more sips of tea and set his mug down on the end table.  “And those introductions, Lord Wise?”
“Of course.”  Wise touched the younger woman’s shoulder.  “May I introduce you to my client, Dr. Nova Orlovic.”
“Doctor?”  Reggie pressed the ice bag back on the left side of his face.
“I’m no medicine woman … but I have a Ph.D. and earned the title,” Nova said.  
“Nova?”
“It’s Indian … I’ve been told it means chases butterflies.”
“Silly me.  I thought it meant an exploding star … or ‘no go’ in Spanish.”
Nova rolled her eyes.  “I hear that a lot.”
“But Indian?  So you really are Indian … one of those Native American kind?”
“Half Indian.  Cheyenne, actually.”  Then Nova shrugged.  “Back when we weren’t so PC, I would’ve been called a half breed.  Now I’m biracial.”
“And who’s this other lady … I presume she’s an Indian … the Native American kind?”
“This is Kaya Stillwater.”  Nova looked fondly at the older woman.  “A very special friend.  She helped raise me after my mother died.”
“Kaya?” Reggie asked.
“It means restful place,” Nova said.
Then Reggie raised a dark eyebrow.  “I see we are wearing matching robes, doctor.”
Nova glanced down her garment, fingering her cross necklace.  “My pantsuit is at the cleaners.  It got all gooey and icky getting you back here, Commander.”
“When we collected you, Reg, we put you in the back seat with her.”  Jack gave a wink.  “You were really out of it and slumped into this delicious woman’s lap.  But in doing so … well, you were quite a mess … your person soiled her garments.”
“I wish I had the memory of that.”  Reggie returned a cautious smile to Nova.  “Resting in your lap, that is.  Sorry about your suit.”
“Suits … they’re washable.”  Nova sashayed in front of Reggie, tugging at her robe and flexing her shoulders.  “Besides … I feel much more comfortable in this than a silly old suit.”
“Indeed.”  Reggie’s grin turned sidewise.  “Now that you’ve gotten my clothes off, what am I doing here in your room, doctor?”
Wise stepped in closer.  “Old boy, I had called you from across the pond a few times.  We even talked about this the other day.  I could not disclose too much as we must assume all overseas communications are monitored.  Since you dislike any kind of electronic communications, I summoned you the old-fashioned way … by messenger.  And I found my summons in your jacket.  Did you not read it?”
“I was … distracted.”  Reggie squinted as his head still hurt.  “So why all this cloak and dagger drama?”
Wise plugged his memory card into the flat screen telly.  “I believe this will explain much.”  
The final segment of the Fly-Over News show, Jose Romero, replayed the memorial of Admiral Connor Quinn.  Many dignitaries had walked about the hero’s earthly remains resting in the White House rotunda.  But President Lincoln Todd was one of the few who was allowed to approach the Admiral’s casket. 
Reggie opened wide his good eye when he recognized Nova in the clip.  “Is that President Todd grabbing your … gluteus maximus?”
“Oh, yeah.”  Nova twitched.  “And it was caught on national TV.  And Jose Romero has played it over and over again on his show.  And the entire country saw it … over and over and over again.  Not to mention that clip went viral on the internet.”
“And why have you summoned me here, my dear lady?”
“Because I need your help, Dr. Barrett.” 
Reggie gritted his teeth.  “If you wish me to give this Latino bloke a good thrashing, you can see I’m more on the receiving end of that.”
Wise chimed in, “We summoned you here to recruit you as part of our team to recover Admiral Quinn, dead or alive.”
“Did not I just see with my own little eye his casket?”  Reggie’s voice sounded strained.  “I would think the old boy would be six feet under across the pond.”
“What you saw was only that.  A casket,” Wise explained.  “The Admiral’s body was badly mutilated … so they say.  But there has not been any convincing forensics to confirm that the body allegedly recovered was the Admiral’s.  Nor that Admiral Quinn was actually buried that day.”
Nova balled her fists.  “And the Todd Administration has blocked every attempt I’ve made to get an independent confirmation.”
“What about DNA?” Reggie asked.
“They say,” Nova said, “the Navy doctors had done the autopsy and DNA check, though I’m not allowed to see those reports … or any pictures … neither has anyone else.  Then they sealed the records, they say, on grounds of national security.
“Then Todd’s men looked downright apoplectic when I told them I had a supply of Connor’s blood squirreled away …and I demanded a sample of my husband’s remains to get an independent DNA verification for myself.  Then Todd’s goons demanded that I hand over all of my husband’s blood, but I told them to go screw themselves.  
“Then I really started getting harassed.  The Feds are digging up dirt on me …threatening me.  So I believe those crooked bastards are hiding something, and Connor is still missing.”
Jack nodded.  “Simply put, Admiral Quinn is MIA, not KIA.” 
“Right.”  Wise looked to Reggie.  “And Dr. Orlovic is willing to put up much of her personal fortune to find the Admiral.  Or at least get some answers.  Which is why we desperately need your services, Commander Barrett.”
“If he’s dead, there’s little I can do for him.”  Reggie put down the ice bag and warmed his hands on his mug of hot tea.  “Yes, I am a doctor, but I’m no Dr. Frankenstein.”
Wise gave Reggie a somber look.  “But there’s a fool’s hope the Admiral may still be alive.  And we may need your services, anyway, as this will be no holiday jaunt to try to find him.  If we do recover a body, we need your help in forensics.”
“As I will be the last doctor you ever want to see.”  Reggie let out a chuckle.  
Then Wise presented the Commander with his client’s deal in writing.  “So what do you say, old boy?  I’m sure you will find Dr. Orlovic’s offer most generous.”
Reggie looked over his proposed seven-figure cut.  His face lit up.  He could not only pay off all his bills, but also go on holiday for a very long time. “Sure.  Why not?  What are we all waiting for?”
“Your clothes to get laundered, old boy,” Wise answered.  “You can’t go fannying about the streets of London bloody naked.”
“I understand this is not a clothing optional city like San Francisco.”  Nova looked over both their robes.
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