The Malacca Conspiracy (47 page)

“Thank you, sir.” Her voice was beginning to tremble.

“There.” He finished pinning the medal on her lapel. “That should do it.” He looked into her eyes. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fall back into line.”

“Yes, sir.” She shot him a final salute, then pivoted and walked back to the line of navy blue, where one officer had yet to receive his medal.

“Lieutenant Commander Zack Brewer, front and center.”

Zack stepped forward, by far the best-looking man in the Rose Garden, in Diane’s opinion. Just the subtle swagger in his step still made
her melt. At that moment it hit her, suddenly, after all these years…the confidence, the swagger, the handsome dimple contrasted against his gentleness. Zack’s many traits were those of the man she had loved first and loved the most, her father. How could she not have seen it until now?

Zack snapped a sharp salute at the president, who stepped forward with Admiral Lettow to pin on the Navy Cross. They were all conversing privately for a moment, as the president had done with her and several other officers.

She knew that the president had a special fondness for Zack, but this conversation was lingering noticeably longer than any of the others.

The president stepped back behind the podium, motioning Zack to stand beside him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, as many of you know, Lieutenant Commander Brewer is known throughout the nation as the JAG officer who has successfully prosecuted several high-profile cases in the war on terror. Commander Brewer has asked to say a few words, and as his commander in chief, he has my blessing. Zack?”

Zack strode with confidence to the presidential podium, as if about to address a jury, or as if he were the president himself. Zack had once turned down an opportunity to get out of the navy and run for Congress. He loved the navy too much. But perhaps, she thought, as he reached the podium with an ease and charisma that exuded even before he spoke, there may be a political career for him after all.

“Mr. President, Mr. Secretary.” He turned and acknowledged those behind him. “Admirals Smith and Lettow, Captain Noble, I am honored for this opportunity to speak just a few words on this bittersweet occasion in our nation’s history.”

A pause.
How does he do this with no notes?

“For today,” he continued, “there is a bitterness indeed as we contemplate the loss of life of our shipmates on board USS
Port Royal,
many of whom gave their lives in the defense of freedom, as also we remember the thousands who died in Philadelphia.

“But it is also a sweet occasion. We are thankful that our nation lives. The great city of San Francisco and our nation’s capital have been spared by the grace of God and by the acts of the United States military.

“This all started with an evil conspiracy, in a beautiful place, far,
far away. That conspiracy is now known by the press as the
Malaccan Conspiracy.
And the lessons of the Malaccan Conspiracy are these.” He paused and eyed the officers, holding his gaze on her. “That life, especially life in the navy, is fleeting. Today, we are in the Rose Garden. Tomorrow, we may be in some far corner of the world responding to duty, doing our best to defend the Constitution and to help keep peace and freedom for all Americans. We go where duty calls. And make no mistake. We are glad and honored to do it.

“But there is another lesson, I believe, to be learned from the Malaccan Conspiracy, and I believe it to be this.” He held up his index finger. “Not only is life fleeting, but we must courageously seize the moment in the here and now. Miss Wulandari, with great courage, seized the moment and saved millions when she bravely faced a fear of death and got that computer stick into the right hands.

“Mr. President”—he looked at the president—“you made tough and courageous decisions when you gave orders to the US military during this crisis. I know the order you gave in San Francisco was hard, and your bravery showed in standing fast here in Washington, and not letting the terrorists intimidate you into leaving our capital.” Applause broke out from the SEALs and the press crew in the Rose Garden. “Mr. President, your bravery will be the stuff that legends are made of.”

That brought more sustained applause. Zack turned back to the audience. “And so today, in the spirit of the lessons learned from the Malaccan Conspiracy, in the midst of a life that is fleeting, that may take us from this place tomorrow, and knowing that I may very well publically fail in doing so, I must seize this moment.”

He paused again, surveying the crowd.
He’s announcing he’s leaving the navy and returning to North Carolina to run for the Senate,
Diane supposed. She always knew he would do it.

To announce his candidacy from the Rose Garden with the blessing of the president!

Zack was not only brave and unequaled in eloquence, but uncannily brilliant. There was no limit to his future. Her heart leapt with excitement for him.

“To the president, and the first lady, and the secretary of defense, and to my fellow naval brethren present, from the chairman of the Joint Chiefs to the brave enlisted members of the SEAL team, I ask that you would stay a moment and support me in what I am about to do.”

Could it be the Senate?

Perhaps governor of North Carolina?

From there, he could run for the White House.

“To Lieutenant Commander Colcernian, my dear colleague with whom I have served off and on since our days at the Naval Justice School five years ago, would you join me here at the podium please for a very important announcement?”

He wants me to join him in his campaign?

“Come on up, Diane.” The president was motioning at her. More applause. This was turning into something political. She knew it. Zack had the knack for the splash.

She reached the podium beside Zack, and as she did, the president came and stood beside her. The first lady walked over beside Zack. They were now a foursome at the podium. Diane and Zack just behind the microphones, flanked by the president and the first lady on each side.

Zack looked at her and smiled. “You think I’m getting ready to declare for office, don’t you?” That brought a round of laughter.

“Well, the thought did cross my mind,” she said, generating more laughter.

“Maybe you’re right,” he sheepishly teased, melting her again with that dimple in his chin. “Which office do you think I’m running for?”

“With you, Zack, who knows?” she shot back. Now the crowd was laughing hard.

He turned to the podium. “Mr. President, Mr. Secretary, Admiral Smith, Admiral Lettow, ladies and gentlemen. It is with great honor and high personal privilege that today I am announcing that I am a candidate for the office of”—he looked at her and grinned—“husband of Diane Jefferson Colcernian!”

What did he just say?
Her mouth fell open.
Is this happening?

Raucous applause broke out. Even whistling. Zack looked at her, still grinning. Then he turned to the Rose Garden crowd again.

“I am hoping that this will not be a long and arduous campaign. In fact, I am hoping that this victory will be won in this moment, here at the White House, in the Rose Garden, before the president and Almighty God. As I turn now to the woman that I love, pray for favor and blessing.”

He turned to her, took her hand, went to one knee, and slowly
kissed her hand. “Diane, you’re the one that I love. There may be no more tomorrows. Will you marry me? Right here? Right now? In the Rose Garden?”

“Oh, Zack.”

“We’ve even got a chaplain, I have a ring in my pocket, and the president told me that he would stand in for your father and give you away.”

“That’s right,” the president said, gently resting his hand on her back. “It would be my honor.”

“Stand up, Zack.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He stood.

“I might, on one condition.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Anything.”

“First, I have to decide if you’re a good enough kisser.” Laughter from the audience.

“And just how are you going to decide that?” More laughter.

“Let’s just say the jury is still out, and you need to figure out a way to bring the jury in!”

He pulled her to him, and their lips met, igniting a hot, instant electricity and sustained applause. She pulled away. “The jury is with you, Commander. If you’ll promise to give me another one of those after the ceremony is over, I accept.”

He kissed her on the cheek to more applause and looked over at the chaplain. “Admiral Lettow?”

The experienced chaplain smiled at the couple. “Diane, why don’t you take the president’s arm, since he is giving you away, and Zack, why don’t you walk around to the front of the podium with me?”

They walked around to the front of the podium, with their backs to the SEALs and other members of the press corps. She stood between the president, still holding onto his outstretched arm, and Zack, whose hand was on her back.

The tears were flowing like a river now. How embarrassing, she thought, to be weeping in front of the president of the United States. “It’s okay,” the president whispered, which reminded her of her father, sending a new wave of tears down her face. The president offered her a handkerchief as Admiral Lettow began to speak.

“We are gathered here in the presence of Almighty God to join these
two, Diane Jefferson Colcernian and Zachary Mitchell Brewer, in holy matrimony…”

The rest was a blurry dream that she would never fully remember, until she heard the final words, “You may kiss the bride!”

At that point the details would never fade from her memory. Zack’s powerful kiss was long and electric, even better than a few moments earlier. What a remedy for the stream of tears!

They turned away and saw that the SEALs had formed two long lines, stretching at least fifty feet into the Rose Garden.

“SEALs!…Draw!…Swords!”

In a swift and synchronized motion, the SEALs drew their stainless-steel swords into an archway, clinking as they touched and glistened brightly in the sun. Diane took her husband’s arm and followed his lead into the arch of swords.

The applause was enthusiastic as they stepped slowly under the sharp blades of shining steel.

This was a walk she never wanted to end. If only her father could see her now.

As they approached the end of the arch of swords, she saw photographers pointing their cameras into the archway and snapping away.

Zack slowed their pace, just before they stepped out the other end. Cameras whizzed and flashed at the end of the tunnel.

Then she remembered. She was about to become the victim of a time-honored naval tradition.

She winced.

As they stepped out of the archway, one of the swordsmen brought his sword down and swiftly popped her on the rump with his blade.

“Ouch!”

“Welcome to the navy, Mrs. Brewer!”

Black Sea Affair

Don Brown

It’s a mission that could bring the world to the brink of nuclear war.

Now time is running out.

It starts with a high-stakes theft: weapons-grade plutonium is stolen from Russia. The Russian army is about to attack Chechnya to get it back. But U.S. intelligence discovers that the stolen shipment is actually on a rogue Russian freighter in the Black Sea.

It turns into a global nightmare: a secret mission gone awry; an American submarine commander arrested and hauled before a military tribunal in Moscow; and a game of brinksmanship so dangerous that war might be its only possible conclusion.

As the U.S. Navy searches for weapons-grade plutonium that has been smuggled out of Russia by terrorists, a submarine mishap escalates the international crisis. With the world watching, JAG Officer Zack Brewer is called to Moscow to defend submarine skipper Pete Miranda and his entire crew. It is a heart-stopping race against the clock. With Russian missiles activated and programmed for American cities, Brewer stalls for time as the U.S. Navy frantically searches the high seas for a floating hydrogen bomb that could threaten New York Harbor.

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