Chapter 80

  Singapore

  Jesse looked out the starboard window of the Gulfstream C-137A as the private jet approached the island nation of Singapore.

  It was just approaching midnight, and Jesse marveled at the endless number of lighted cargo ships that dotted the warm waters of the Singapore Strait, waiting for their turn at one of the busiest shipping ports in the world. Thirty-six hours after his meeting with Clayson broke up; the private jet carrying the single passenger touched down on the runway of Singapore’s Changi Airport and taxied to a private hangar where a familiar face greeted him. After an immigration official checked Jesse’s credentials, the two men shook hands and went to a waiting Mercedes Benz limousine.

  “I see you must have gotten your new official passport?” Jesse asked.

  Shawn nodded, “Yes, I did. A man from the U.S. Embassy in Bangkok handed it to me personally when Chuah and I arrived at the airport a few hours ago.”

  “Speaking of Chuah, how is the bodyguard thing working out with you two?”

  “I think it’s a waste of taxpayer’s money to have three men guarding my home 24 hours a day, but Kim seems to like it, so I guess that’s all that matters.”

  “Well, after that evening of unwanted guests, I can’t say as I blame her.”

  “So, can you tell me why I’m here? You didn’t give me any explanation over the phone.”

  Jesse didn’t tell him that it was his idea and that he invited him without Director Clayson’s knowledge. However, he suspected that he already knew it.

  “We’re here to talk with Sydney.”

  “She’s here in Singapore?”

  “Don’t you ever read the newspapers…oh, never mind. Yes, she’s here for a trade summit.”

  “Great, a Vietnam reunion of old friends; this ought to be fun. Do you think she will serve drinks?”

  “Fun was not the term I was thinking of, and I seriously doubt that drinks will be served.”

  “So you still haven’t told me if you were able to unlock the meaning in all those letters and numbers that a lot of people wanted to kill me over? Apparently, someone in the government did, or we wouldn’t be here today.”

  Jesse nodded his head. He explained how the FBI lab was able to pull the text of Jensen’s letter for the CIA travel envelope. He told him about Nils and the bomb shelter and how he purchased Jensen’s camera with the film still inside where the camera had rested in a hidden compartment at the bottom of Jensen’s foot locker since 1975. He told him how the FBI lab had developed the film and that; indeed, the pictures were taken in Vietnam just before his death. However, he didn’t go into the details of the photos, only that they corroborated Jensen’s letter.

  Jesse purposely left out the events of Mary Jensen’s death. He didn’t want to heap any more guilt on Shawn than he already had.

  When Jesse was finished, Shawn asked, “So you’re not going to tell me shit, are you.”

  “I’m sorry, Shawn, but I can’t at this time. I know you’re not going to like this, but it’s a National Security issue, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Hopefully, someday, I can. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you about the film.”

  Shawn wasn’t happy, “That’s bullshit, man. Your fucking government wouldn’t have jack shit on that bitch if it weren’t for me. I bled for my country. I still have shrapnel in my body from that godforsaken war to prove it. And you know it. I was beaten and shot at by mercenaries hired by that bitch. Tim and David Choi were shot. General Bennett was almost killed. And don’t forget what that big ugly Russian prick wanted to do to Kim. I wanted to do the right thing after what I saw in Mystic, Connecticut, and this is the thanks I get. You can’t even tell me what was in that letter?”

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  After a long pause, Jesse said, “I agree with everything you said, Shawn. You do have the right to know what was in that letter, and I pleaded with those involved to let me inform you. But it fell on deft ears. There is a very short list of people in the government who have this information, and because of the nature of this information and where it will lead; they want to keep it that way. I have to respect their wishes. At least until all this is over.”

  Shawn gave Jesse a hard stair and finally said with a sigh, "Well, I have to respect your integrity. You've always been a fuckin Boy Scout."

  Jesse turned to look at Shawn, who was now busy looking through the compartments in the limo.

  "What the hell are you looking for?"

  "Just what kind of cheap ass limo is this? I can't find a fucking drop of liquor anywhere?"

  Jesse put his head down. The man would never change. And for that, Jesse was happy.

  *****

  As the limo traveled to their hotel, the conversation was mainly about Sydney and all the attacks that took place in the U.S. Then Shawn abruptly changed subjects.

  “Besides my passport, the man from the Embassy also handed me a letter from the General Attorney’s office in Florida,” Shawn said casually.

  “Yes, I was informed that you would receive one.”

  After a short silence, Shawn said. “I never told you about…well, the incident with my step-father after I got out of the army. So I just want to thank you for…you know…getting the charges dropped against me for his death.”

  “Well, I didn’t have very much to do with it, but I did suggest it to the FBI director. After reading the report, he concluded that the charges were personally motivated by the prosecuting attorney and didn’t have any merit. From what I was told, it didn’t take much to get the charges dropped by the Florida DA.”

  “That’s been a cloud that’s been hanging over my head for a very long time. I feared someone from the U.S. would come into my club someday and recognize me. I would be arrested, and I would lose everything that I worked so hard for.”

  “Now, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. I read the police report and it sounds like it was self-defense.”

  “When I found him, I had every intention of killing the asshole, but the bastard pulled a gun on me. So I guess in a way… you could say that it was self-defense.”

  “Well, that’s all behind you now, and you can travel to the U.S. without a problem. Besides, you promised me that we would have a drink together in the copula overlooking Lake Chautauqua, and I’m going to hold you to that promise.”

  Shawn looked at Jesse, slightly surprised, “Your mother still owns that old Victorian house?”

  “Yes, she does…well, actually, I own it, but it’s still in the family.”

  “Well then, I guess I’ll just have to keep my promise.”

  Jesse grinned, “I was hoping you would say that.”

  *****

  The limousine transporting Jesse and Shawn pulled up to The Shangri La Hotel fifteen minutes later. After several security checks, they entered the massive lobby of the exclusive five-star hotel tower wing. All the heads of state and their staff attending the business conference were isolated in the hotel's posh and elegant valley wing, where President Williams was offered the 4000 sq. ft. Shangri La Suite.

  Jesse’s accommodations in the garden wing were not quite as luxurious, yet quite charming. Shawn got a connecting room, and after settling in, he joined Jesse for a drink on his balcony that overlooked one of the cleanest and safest cities in the world. Shawn took the chair next to Jesse, and they looked out into the beautiful night skyline of the gorgeous city.

  “So, are you a bit apprehensive about seeing Sydney tomorrow?” Shawn asked.

  “Somewhat…over the years, I’ve seen countless photos of her as The Secretary of State, Vice President, and now, of course. I’ve always wanted to see her again, but I thought she was always way out of my league… until…until I saw those photos. Now, I have to agree with you that she’s more than just a little scary.”

  After two more drinks, Jesse asked Shawn if he wanted to take a walk. He wanted to pass a note to one of Sydney’s secret service agents stating that he wanted to meet with the President the next day.

  Shawn yawned and said, “No, you go ahead. I’m going to bed…I think the jet lag has finally caught up to me.”

  Jesse shot Shawn a look, “You didn’t even change time zones, you asshole. What is it…a two-hour flight?”

  "Well, you travel more than I do." Shawn chuckled.

  Jesse grunted and headed for the door. "Well, sleep tight then…and by the way… I hope you choke on the rest of your fucking drink."

  After Jesse was out the door, Shawn held up his glass and said quietly, "Here's to you, bro. You're a good man, and I'm glad that God heard this poor sinners' prayer all those years ago."