Chapter 14: Justice
He tried, but he couldn't sleep. Long after Shana's regular, even breathing told him she was asleep—and unlikely to have nightmares thanks to the pills Doc had given her—he was still awake, staring into the darkness, thinking about her and what she'd said. He still hadn't forgotten his anger of earlier either, and the more he thought the angrier he got.
Finally, he slipped out of bed and headed for the dojo. Since this was where he and Shana preferred to gear up before a mission, getting dressed in their preferred 'uniform' and strapping on their weapons, he and Shana had started keeping their dark body armor here since the single closet in their shared quarters was not really large enough to keep both their things in it, and they hadn't yet had a chance to start paring down their personal belongings so that both their things would fit.
He slipped into the dojo silently, got dressed in his black body armor, then stopped by a small cabinet that usually held hand weapons, pulling out a small object from the tiny box in the back of it. He shoved it in his pocket, then left the dojo, heading down toward base storage. He was looking for a specific item, two actually, and he was a little surprised to see Duke also at the supply closet, rummaging for something. "Hey, Snake Eyes," Duke grinned. "What are you doing up?"
Since he couldn't tell Duke what he was doing, he made his answer as brief as possible. Looking for something. And in a box on the bottom shelf he found it; two nails, six inches long, thick, about the same size and type that had been used to crucify Shana, in a box of assorted material left over from building projects around base. He palmed them and a hammer and left without a word.
Duke stared for a long time at the box of nails, then at the door closing behind Snake Eyes departing back. He had a very good idea what Snake Eyes was thinking—why would he be looking for nails at this hour, and be dressed to be going out on a mission? After midnight, in black stealth armor, and more importantly, with something colder than death in his eyes.
But there were some things that you just knew, and Duke made a deliberate decision. Yeah, he was going to be spending an uncomfortable night, but if his guess was correct, an uncomfortable night would give justice for several people who badly needed it.
He knew where all the surveillance cameras were on base; who didn't? And he knew there was one camera in the hall outside the hallway entrance to the dojo, but there wasn't a camera in the gym that would pick up the gym entrance to the dojo. He slipped into the gym, casually nodded to Stalker , who was working out on the weights, and entered the dojo from the gym entrance. Once inside, he found the closet where Snake Eyes and Shana kept their stealth suits, and pulled out Snake Eyes' spare.
He and Snake Eyes were the same height and weight, but Snake Eyes had a slim, wiry build, where Duke was more muscular and had more mass. Since the suits were specifically tailored for both Snake Eyes and Shana, it was something of a tight fit for Duke, but not once did he consider stopping. If he'd read Snake Eyes right, what he was doing could well save both Snake and Shana.
He exited the dojo by the gym door, and ducked all the cameras as he headed outside, then once outside he turned and sauntered in, in full view of the camera. To anyone who might be watching, it would look like Snake Eyes went for a run and came back. Duke then did his level best to imitate Snake Eyes' walk as he headed for the mess hall, taking care to be well in view of the various cameras he passed on the way. Once in the mess hall, he fixed himself a cup of tea from the single-serve machine at one side of the mess hall, which Snake Eyes was known to do on nights when he couldn't sleep. Although Duke rarely ever drank tea, and when he did it was usually overloaded with sugar, this time he forced himself to drink it without sugar or milk or honey, which Snake Eyes was famous for. I hope you appreciate what I'm doing for you, my friend, he thought as he forced himself not to make a face at the strong black tea. Then he got up and headed down the hall, to the dojo, where he entered in full view of the cameras from the hall door. Once he'd done that, he settled down to wait.
Three hours later he exited the dojo, still dressed in Snake Eyes' stealth suit, then went down the hall toward the exit, following the same route Snake Eyes had taken. Once outside, he broke into a jog as he turned right toward the lighthouse. As soon as he was out of range of the exterior cameras, he stripped off the stealth suit and then sneaked past them to get back into base. Once there he padded quietly through corridors until he got back to the gym, ducked into the dojo, tucked the stealth suit back into the closet, then sauntered out into the gym. Stalker was gone, and there was no one to see him as he took a bottle of water from the small refrigerator and unscrewed the cap, then liberally dribbled 'sweat' down the back and the front of his gray Army t-shirt, then soaked his hair with it too. He left the gym sauntering casually, sipping from the bottle, pretending to breathe hard—as someone would who'd just spent a significant amount of time in the gym.
He didn't have to see video to know what someone would have seen if they were looking; Snake Eyes, leaving the base; and then they would see 'Snake Eyes' coming back; only, it would be Duke dressed in Snake Eyes' stealth suit. They would see 'Snake Eyes' go to the mess hall for a cup of tea, see him go to the dojo for three hours, then go back out for a run.
Duke only hoped that those three hours had been long enough for Snake Eyes to do…whatever.
Prisons were built to keep people in. They weren't built to keep people out. And when the person breaking into a prison was a stealth-trained, black ops Army ninja, the obstacles meant to segregate prisoners from the outside world weren't obstacles at all. They were merely…challenges.
Which said Army ninja navigated with ease.
The searchlights that scanned the grounds moved in predictable, pre-programmed patterns; within two minutes of looking at them he knew the best time to make a run between them, and he arrived at the prison wall not even out of breath. Getting over the razor wire at the top of the fence was a cakewalk for a ninja with a black armored suit; when he and Shana had designed these (with Courtney's help) they'd taken into account the kinds of obstacles that they might have to go over, and in fact had taken a quick trip out to Camp Mackall once the prototypes were developed to test their flexibility and durability on the Nasty Nick—Camp Mackall's obstacle course, one of the hardest in the Army and the one used for SERE training. It had proved fully workable, and the design had been picked up for possible development by the army as Special Ops suits (Shana and Snake Eyes were 'testing' the 'prototypes', as the late General Clancy had explained.) But the suit fully proved its functionality now as he got over two walls topped by barbed wire, used a roof ladder to get to the roof, and slipped into an access door once on top of the building.
Now the problem was to figure out where Kennedy was being held. Seeing as how he was now awaiting transfer to a long-term federal penitentiary, he wouldn't be in with the general population; most likely a maximum-security holding with little or no contact. So. Segregation? He decided to check there first.
It wasn't hard to spot where all the prison security cameras were; having been the one to set up clandestine monitoring cameras himself on many missions, if you knew where you would likely put them, then you knew where others put them and you could avoid them easily. And his guess was confirmed when he looked into the third solitary confinement cell and found Kennedy, stretched out on the bed in his cell and sleeping soundly.
At the sight of the man all the deadly rage Snake Eyes had been keeping leashed surfaced. How could anyone sleep soundly after having done what this man did to Shana and Cam? He made short work of the lock on the outside of the door and stepped in. He couldn't lock it after himself, but that didn't matter; Kennedy was not going to leave this cell alive. Whether he died trying to get past Snake Eyes or died at Snake Eyes' hand, it didn't matter; he wasn't leaving this cell alive. He'd been guilty and sentenced to life in prison.
No one said how long that life was going to be.
He crossed the cell with two quick steps, pulling out a stiletto as he went. Before Kennedy was even halfway awake the stiletto had plunged into his throat, and Snake Eyes gave the knife a quick twist.
Kennedy awoke screaming. Soundlessly.
Snake Eyes had become intimately familiar with how the vocal cords and larynx in the human throat worked while he was trying to regain his own after he and Shana had both survived the helicopter crash. The thrust with the stiletto hadn't been meant to cut Kennedy's throat, wasn't meant to bleed him out—the angle he'd stabbed the thin-bladed knife in didn't hit any major blood vessels. Yes, he wanted the man to die, but he would die on Snake Eyes' schedule, not his own.
He stared at Snake Eyes with wide, terrified eyes; Snake Eyes imagined Shana must have looked at Kennedy himself with that look in her eyes at some point during her captivity; fear, pleading, a desperate request not to die. Snake Eyes ignored it now, as Kennedy had ignored it then—this man didn't deserve pity or mercy.
He backed up as Kennedy sat up, hands over his throat. There was blood, but not much; less than there would have been with even a bloody nose. But Snake Eyes could read lips, and had no trouble fingering out what Kennedy wanted to say. Not that anything he said would change Snake Eyes' mind the tiniest bit.
:You're the soldier that Testarossa is getting married to.:
Snake Eyes took the stiletto, grabbed Kennedy's arm, and pushed the point into the nerve just behind the elbow. Kennedy screamed soundlessly as Snake Eyes signed with the other hand. Her name is Shana. Yes, we are getting married, and before we do that I will make sure that your ghost won't haunt her for the rest of her life. Your life will end tonight. Nothing you can say or do will change that, you have been found guilty, sentenced to life in prison, and I doubt they will look very hard for the person who killed you. And even if they find me, I have no problems going to Leavenworth for killing you. Not after what you did.
:You can't kill me. She had a gun in her hands and she couldn't.:
I am not Shana. She has more compassion than any soldier I know. She is a soldier, and a good one, and has killed when necessary, but she has regretted every single life she's ever had to take. I have regrets too, but none of them will be for you. He grabbed the front of Kennedy's jumpsuit and hauled him off the cot, dropping him to the floor.
Kennedy tried to crawl away from him.
Snake Eyes grabbed the back of the prison jumpsuit, yanked his back down to the floor, and placed his knee against the man's neck, effectively pinning Kennedy to the floor. He'd brought a small hammer with him, and it was a matter of a few minutes to extend the right arm, stepping on the hand with his other foot and ignoring the silent yelp of pain from crushed fingers—it wasn't like Kennedy was ever going to need to use those fingers again, after all—and placed the point of the nail against the inside of the man's forearm and hammered the nail through the limb, driving the point into the floor with the strength of the blows. He wasn't as careful with Kennedy as Kennedy had been with Shana—blood spurted, but that hardly mattered, because Snake Eyes wasn't trying to keep him alive. He wanted the man to bleed out. The concrete floor resisted the nail point, but Snake Eyes' anger overcame that easily; the strength behind the hammer hitting the nail was fueled by cold fury and the concrete didn't stand a chance. Snake Eyes did the second arm the same way, and once Kennedy's arms were pinned, like a bug to a specimen mounting board, he sat on the man's legs, pinning him down, keeping him from flailing, then took out the item he'd taken from the hand-weapons cabinet at base.
Shana's old dog tags.
He held them in front of Kennedy. Let this be the last thing you see in this world. Remember what you did that brought this retribution on you. Remember the woman whose life you nearly ruined, who will have nightmares for the rest of her life because of what you did, who carries scars now laid on her by your hand. Remember that—and give my regards to the Devil when you meet him, because you are going to hell. I'm certain of it.
And he held the tags before Kennedy's face until the light in the man's eyes went out.
"What's going on?" Shana blinked as she saw Allie hurrying toward her and Snake Eyes as they strolled down the hallway toward mess the next morning.
"General Hawk needs you in the small briefing room by his office right away. I also need to bring Cam and Charlie." Allie was off like a shot, running toward the mess.
"I wonder what happened," Shana said as she broke into a speedwalk toward Hawk's office. "Come on!"
Snake Eyes knew what it was about. The wardens had gone to Kennedy's cell, found him dead, nailed to the floor, and they must have figured out who'd done it. But as he looked down inside himself for remorse, he couldn't find any. No pity, no guilt, no remorse. His job was to protect and care for Shana, and he'd done what he did to care for her in the only way open to him. If that meant he went to jail, so be it. He hadn't been kidding when he told Kennedy he'd accept Leavenworth. For Shana it was worth it.
And as he'd predicted, there were two FBI agents here, and Hawk was directing Mainframe and Hacker to set up a monitor and bring last night's security camera recordings. "Damien Kennedy was killed last night in his cell at Riker's," Hawk said without preamble, his face grim. "I told the FBI that we were all here last night, but they insist that someone must have sneaked off base. Kennedy died around two last night, so we're checking everyone's whereabouts." Out the corner of his eye, Snake Eyes saw Duke relax—he and Flint were both here, as Hawk's second and third in command—and Snake Eyes wondered about that.
Allie entered just then with Charlie and Cam; Cam dropped into a chair, breathing hard with exertion, and Charlie remained standing beside her. The FBI Agent looked at her with a flash of pity in his eyes, but started right in. "Damien Kennedy was killed in his cell last night at Riker's," he said. "And we suspect someone in this room did it. Now, we're pretty sure it's not Major General Abernathy, and we're sure it's not Corporal Arlington—her physical condition is too fragile. We're also sure it's not Master Sergeant O'Hara, if she wanted him dead she would have shot him back there in the courtroom. Also, the amount of strength required to drive six inch nails through a human limb and into a concrete floor could only have come from a male. So that leaves Master Sergeant…Snake Eyes…and Specialist Ironknife." He leveled his gaze at Charlie. "And we all heard you say that if Kennedy touched your wife again, you would kill him. And you have the strength and mass to crucify him on the floor."
Snake Eyes felt a flash of guilt. Of all the possible scenarios, having Charlie blamed for what he'd done was one he hadn't considered. Dear God, if the FBI decided to arrest Charlie, it would kill Cam…she depended on him right now for practically everything. Even Hawk had given Charlie leave to spend time with Cam and take care of her, understanding his role of nurse. And he made a quick choice; if they decided to arrest Charlie for the murder, he would confess and go to jail himself. Shana would be furious, but she was stronger than Cam; she'd survive. But without Charlie, Cam would die; no one else could care for her in the condition she was in now the way Charlie could.
"I spent the night with Cam. After trial wrapped up yesterday Private Cabot took Cam and Shana to Bellevue to a therapy session for victims of torture, and Cam came back very upset. Doc gave her a sedative to help her sleep, and I know he gave one to Shana too, since our rooms are right next to each other. I stayed with Cam—I have to. She wakes up screaming from nightmares, disoriented and in panic sometimes, and if I'm not there to calm her down she could hurt herself. I never leave her side when she's asleep. You can check the security cameras—there's one in the hallway outside her door."
And the time-stamped camera showed the truth; Doc knocked on the door with a bottle of pills, Charlie opened the door, invited Doc in, ushered him out moments later, then closed the door and it didn't open again.
"And Snake Eyes?" but since the camera caught Shana and Snake Eyes' door too, he could see Doc knocking, Snake Eyes opening, and Shana taking the pills, swallowing them in full view of the camera, and going back inside. For a couple of hours the door stayed closed, then it opened and Snake Eyes walked out. The cameras tracked his progress through base to the dojo, then out again in his stealth armor, then to base storage, and then out by the motorpool exit.
And then to Snake Eyes' astonishment, half an hour later a black-stealth-suited figure walked back in the motorpool door. That figure headed for the mess hall, fixed and drank a cup of tea, went to the dojo for three hours, then came out and went back outside. And then Snake Eyes himself came in half an hour later.
"Well, that settles it. It can't be any of you. Kennedy was killed around two in the morning, just when Master Sergeant Snake Eyes was drinking tea in the mess hall. And Specialist Ironknife never left his room at all."
As the FBI agents started reviewing their suspect list, Snake Eyes locked gazes with Duke. He knew who had put on his stealth suit the previous night and given him an alibi. Duke winked once, inclined his head toward Shana.
Snake Eyes smiled and returned his attention to the conversation. They didn't speak; they didn't need to. Some things just went deeper than words.