The Darkness - Jason Pinter [91]
"And now I do. So you can leave."
Abigail went to the small fridge/microwave combination and pulled a beer out. She twisted the cap, grimacing
as the top dug into her palm.
"This was for your own good. I'm just trying to help.
Abby, please, let me stay."
"You did what you came here to do. I bet when all this
is over you'll have a hell of a story, and I can tell all my
friends what a great reporter my mom is. But I don't
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want to see you right now. So please, please leave. Don't
make me ask again. I don't want to cry anymore."
Paulina felt her face grow hot, her eyes beginning to
water as she stared at her daughter, hating every word
she'd said but deep down, in some way, understanding it,
too. She knew the night would come to this, that these
revelations would destroy her daughter's relationship. It
had to be done, Paulina knew, and she'd have to deal
with being the messenger.
She would take the misplaced anger, and she would
let her daughter cool down over time even though it
would kill her every second she thought about what
might have happened.
And that, Paulina thought, walking out the door, dabbing at her eyes with a tailored sleeve, was what she
supposed being a mother was all about.
35
"Major Chester A. Malloy," Jack said. He was holding
in his hand a printout of all the information we could find
regarding Malloy. And it didn't make us feel any better.
Jack's eyes were wide as he read, scanning the print.
I wondered if he was as nervous as I was.
"According to his file," Jack said, "Chester A. Malloy
was a member of the Special Operations Task Force assembled in 1989 to overthrow Manuel Noriega's control
of Panama. Along with ten other members of his unit, Operational Detachment Bravo, Major Malloy encountered
a brigade of the Panama Defense Force, where several
members of their squad were killed. The rest of the squad
was returned to the U.S. after Noriega's capture, and
that's where the trail ends."
"So what the hell is a goddamn Special Forces major
doing kidnapping New York journalists?" I said.
"Look at this," Jack said. We huddled over his computer, where nearly a dozen Internet searches were pulled
up. Jack pointed to one, a photograph of eleven young
men and women, identified in a military photo as the
Bravo unit. I read the names.
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261
Franklin K. Loughlin.
Andros I. Browning.
Roy Winnick.
Eve S. Ramos.
Chester A. Malloy.
Rex M. Malloy.
Wendy C. DiBonaventura.
Harrison L. Daughterty.
Shonda P. Williamson.
Emmett R. Douglas.
Bill E. Hollinsworth.
Chester A. Malloy, along with the rest of his team, was
wearing his Special Forces uniform. Green sport jacket over
white shirt. Black tie. Nameplate on the right of his chest.
All the uniforms were decorated with various medals and
pins, and they all wore their Green Beret caps raised to the
left, the signature of their division of the Special Forces.
Standing to the left of Chester Malloy was a man named
Rex Malloy. According to the documents, Rex Malloy
was Chester's younger brother by three years. They were
both members of Special Forces, both Green Berets.
And both had looks on their faces as serious and
deadly as a man who threatens to kill a teenage girl.
I pointed at Chester Malloy.
"Nice and blond," I said. "That's our man."
"Hey, Mr. Cottontail," Jack said, smiling.
Just then I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket. I
pulled it out, saw I had a new message. Not a voice mail,
but a text message. It was from Paulina, and it contained
an attachment.
I opened the note. It said: Taken one month ago by
Pam Ruffalo. This is our guy.
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Jason Pinter
"I'll be a monkey's uncle," Jack said.
"Wow. I haven't heard anyone say that since the sixties."
"Oldie but a goodie."
"That one either. Hold on, I'll enlarge it."
I plugged the phone into my computer and waited for
the image to download. When it finished, I opened it up
and enlarged the shot.
It was a grainy image, taken with some sort of low-res
camera or cell phone. The man could be seen from his