Nathan looked out the window at three Jeep Cherokees sitting on the tarmac near a vehicle entry gate. The jet came to a stop and the doors to the Cherokees opened. Four people dressed in combat uniforms climbed out and walked toward the jet. Three were in Naval working uniforms, the other in a desert Army combat uniform, no doubt the JTF’s deputy commander, the Army brigadier.

The copilot opened the fuselage door and warm, humid air flooded the interior. It reminded Nathan of his vacation in Puerto Rico. It had the same feel.

Thorny exited the jet first. All four Gitmo officers issued crisp salutes. Thorny returned the gesture. “Everyone at ease. This is an informal visit. Who’s the senior officer here?”

“You are, General,” Porras said.

Thorny grinned and it lightened the tension. “You’d be surprised how many get that wrong.”

The station commander, Captain Brett King, stepped forward. “Welcome to Gitmo, General.” Introductions were made all around.

Admiral Maas spent a fraction too long looking at Nathan’s scars, but recovered quickly. Porras looked and acted all business and clearly wasn’t happy about hosting a couple of unknown spooks. Understandable, but unwarranted. Porras had no way to know he and Harv weren’t here for a clandestine Big Brother spy mission.

“Once we’ve crossed the bay,” Maas said, “it’s about a ten minute drive over to Camp Delta.”

They piled into the Cherokees. Naturally, he and Harv ended up in Brigadier General Porras’s vehicle. Nathan exchanged a look with Harv, who took the front seat. Thorny rode with Rear Admiral Maas and Captain King, while the third Cherokee hosted the two aides. No doubt they’d exchange a story or two.

A minute later, Porras drove directly onto the waiting ferry. It looked like a scaled down mix between an aircraft carrier and a landing craft and probably accommodated fifteen to twenty vehicles. Not surprising, the three Cherokees were the only vehicles boarding. Eight Marine MPs, armed with M4s, were stationed at various points around the perimeter of the ferry. He wondered if they were normally there. Probably weren’t. No doubt Captain King was playing it safe for the twenty minute journey across open water.

Everyone got out of the vehicles for the ride. The MPs tried not to stare, but most of them would never get another chance to meet the commandant of the Marine Corps again. Thorny made it a point to return their salutes and shake hands with each of them. Nathan smiled at seeing his friend acknowledge the service of enlisted personnel—one of the many traits of a good leader.

Nathan walked over to the rail and looked across the expanse of water. He thought back to Kramer, what it must’ve been like for him at the end, and how close Duane Dalton, his ex-wife and his two girls, had come to suffering the same watery fate. He shook his head.