Brother's Keeper. Joaquin De Torres
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Jason yelled and flung the photos across the room. “LOOK AT ME! WHAT HAVE I GOT!?” Tears cascaded down his face as he cried and gasped for air to speak. “I’M NOTHING NOW! NOTHING!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” He pointed to the documents and the photos around the room. “That all died two years ago! My life ended two years ago!”
Rivers put down his case and raised his hands calmly. He moved slowly around the table.
“Jason, please hear me out.” He reached for the young man’s shoulder, but his hand was quickly shoved away. Jason stumbled back, still pumping out tears, and the years of inner grief that he had, until then, bottled up.
“Stay away from me!” he coughed. “Why are you here!?”
“Because I want to-”
“DON’T YOU SEE? I LOST EVERYTHING! I HAVE NO ONE! I LOST JORDAN THREE YEARS AGO, AND THE NAVY THE FOLLOWING YEAR!”
Rivers felt Jason’s desperation and agony blast him with every sentence. Nothing he previously analyzed about this case could have prepared him for this sudden display of self-immolation. The complexity of the man’s tragedy not only saddened Rivers, but also reminded him of the futility of this mission. He watched pitifully as Jason seemed to transform into a wild, wounded animal-a beast driven to relive his own personal torment. Jason raised his head and pointed at Rivers.
“Who the fuck are you to come in here and do this to me!?”
“Jason, you are suffering from massive depression and stress disorder. We can take care of this.”
“Who? The Navy?” he spat mockingly. “I don’t exactly have on-base privileges anymore! In fact, since I haven’t had a job for 14 fucking months, I haven’t had any medical insurance!”
“We can take care of that,” Rivers answered calmly, thankful that Jason was no longer yelling but speaking, albeit hotly. As long as he could keep Jason engaged, there might be some other way to bring him across.
“Yeah right! So, I’m to understand that you came all the way from Japan to help out a shipmate? Why me? And by the way, how the fuck did you find me?”
“The DOD has a lot of people-finder databases, especially those who were ex-F-35 pilots.”
“I see now,” Jason interrupted as his eyes narrowed in suspicion.“You think I’m going to sell classified information about the F-35!”
“No, actually.”
“Then why are you here?”
Rivers felt that he had now reached a new plateau with Li. They were now talking. He looked back to the table and pointed at the bottle of cognac.
“Hennessy XO, isn’t it?” He retrieved it and two shot glasses. Jason fell onto an armchair and rubbed his face, still shuddering as the adrenaline ebbed. “Here.” Rivers offered one glass which Jason took. They both drank down and Rivers refilled the glasses.
“Jason, do you believe in second chances?”
“No,” he answered flatly. “Not for me.”
“Well, I’m here to offer you one. But there are conditions; frankly, they’re very dangerous conditions.”
“I’m listening.”
“We want you to fly a mission. A black ops mission.”
“Where?”
“China.”
Jason burst out in laughter. Rivers maintained his concentrative expression.
“That’s right, Jason. China.”
“Are you joking?”
“No.”
“What do you fucking take me for?” Jason was again on his feet, this time backing away from Rivers and pointing his finger at him. “Don’t you think I’m smart enough to see what you’re doing!?”
“Jason, hear me out!”
“Fuck, no! You kept tabs on me! You knew I was desperate! You scheduled a suicide mission but didn’t want to waste any of your good men, so you chose me!”
“No, Jason!”
“Because I’m FUCKING EXPENDABLE!” His voice blew through the roof.
“That’s not it at all!” Rivers bellowed back.
“The Navy figured-Hey! Why not? If he fails, so what? He’s a fucking loser anyway, a shit bag who can fly a plane, and no one will give a fuck if he fails!”
“Jason, you’re wrong! This mission is specifically designed for you!”
“For me!? How many other saps have you got lined up for this shit?”
“There’s no one else.”
“Oh really? Then, why me!?”
Rivers fell silent, constrained by the classification of the mission, his duty to the program and the amount of information he was instructed not to share. His orders were to simply get Li interested in the possibility of flying again, and leave the real mission talk to Admiral Marrion. If he could get Li on the plane back to Japan, Marrion felt his incentives and guarantees, as well as Li’s probable hope of redemption would turn the young man into a viable and eager prospect.
There were deals to be made, waivers to be granted and money to be spent, but Rivers was by no means to divulge this. Everything would materialize before the young man’s eyes-in his office-not in a one-bedroom apartment in Concord, California. This was the cornerstone of the admiral’s strategy.
“Just get him on the plane, Scott,” he told Rivers before he left. “I’ll do the rest.”
However, Marrion never counted on Li being psychologically depressed and suicidal. Under no circumstances was Rivers to mention the brother, Jordan Li. Although gaining Li’s trust through reflections of his famous brother was a tempting strategy, it was something Marrion felt would jeopardize the entire project.
Yet, Li was losing his mind, systematically becoming more unstable and hostile. With one wrong word from Rivers, the whole project could go to Hell. Rivers had to skirt the line between mission accomplishment and suicide prevention-two disciplines that he never imagined would meet.
“Why me!?” Jason repeated, leaning forward challengingly. Rivers’ mind scrambled for an illegitimate answer to a perfectly legitimate question. Jason took another step forward. “TELL ME!”
“Because if you got shot down over enemy lines, it would be easier for you to navigate the country until we rescued you!” It was all he had. Jason’s eyes narrowed in disbelief.
“You’re fucking lying! The Navy wouldn’t waste its money on getting a wash-out back into a cockpit! You’re hiding something!”
“Jason, believe me.” He was running out of words, and the lies weren’t coming quick enough. “It’s a special program for ex-aviators who are looking to contribute to national defense.” He waited for a rebuttal, but when Jason remained silent, he decided to run with this one.
“You are only 26, and it’s only been two years since your dismissal. I’ve seen your records; I know you haven’t forgotten how to fly stealth aircraft.” When Jason made no attempt to comment, he continued to run the gauntlet.
Just get him on the plane, Scott. I’ll do the rest.
“We’ve lost aviators because of the continuing threat in the Taiwan Strait so we’re looking to recruit from other sources, even from the civilian sector.” Rivers didn’t know how much longer he could do it. He never liked to tell half-truths to aviators, much less full-blown lies. His forthright truthfulness and integrity were strengths admired and sought after in the fleet; he lived his life on his word. But now he was moving into an area he was unfamiliar and uncomfortable with; and unfortunately for him, it was showing. His sudden stammers, pauses and