STEPHANIE STUDIED THE OLDER MAN WHO OPENED THE DOOR TO the modest brick home on the city's south side. He was short and overweight, with a bulbous, fiery-hued nose that reminded her of Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer. According to his service record, Zachary Alexander should be pushing seventy-and he looked it. She listened as Edwin Davis explained who they were and why they'd come.
"What do you think I can tell you?" Alexander asked. "I've been out of the navy almost thirty years."
"Twenty-six, actually," Davis said.
Alexander leveled a pudgy finger at them. "I don't like wastin' my time."
She heard a television playing in another room. Some game show. And noticed that the house was immaculate, the inside reeking of antiseptic.
"We only need a few minutes," Davis said. "After all, I did come from the White House."
Stephanie wondered about the lie, but said nothing.
"I didn't even vote for Daniels."
She smiled. "A lot of us are in that category, but could we have just a few minutes?"
Alexander finally relented and led them into a den, where he switched off the television and offered them a seat.
"I served in the navy a long time," Alexander said. "But I have to tell you, I don't have fond memories of it."
She'd read his service record. Alexander had made it to commander but was twice passed over for further promotion. He'd eventually opted out and retired with full benefits.
"They didn't think I was good enough for them."
"You were good enough to command Holden."
Crinkly eyes narrowed. "That and a few other ships."
"We came," Davis said, "because of the mission Holden completed to Antarctica."
Alexander said nothing. Stephanie wondered if his silence was calculated or cautionary.
"I actually was excited about those orders," Alexander finally said. "I wanted to see the ice. But later, I always thought that trip had some-thin' to do with me being passed over."
Davis leaned forward. "We need to hear about it."
"For what?" Alexander spat out. "The whole thing's classified. May still be. They told me to keep my mouth shut."
"I'm a deputy national security adviser. She's the head of a government intelligence agency. We can hear what you have to say."
"Bullshit."
"Is there any reason you have to be so hostile?" she asked.
"Besides that I hate the navy?" he asked. "Or besides you two are fishin' and I don't want to be bait."
Alexander relaxed in his recliner. She imagined that he'd sat there for years thinking about what was running through his mind at this moment. "I did what I was ordered to do, and I did it well. I always followed orders. But it's been a long time, so what do you want to know?"
She said, "We know Holden was ordered to the Antarctic in November 1971. You went looking for a submarine."
A puzzled look came to Alexander's face. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"We've read the court of inquiry report on the sinking of Blazek, or NR-1A, whatever you want to call the thing. It specifically mentions you and Holden going to search."
Alexander gazed at them with a mixture of curiosity and enmity. "My orders were to proceed to the Weddell Sea, take sonar readings, and be alert for anomalies. I had three passengers on board and was told to accommodate their needs, without question. That's what I did."
"No submarine?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Nothin' close."
"What did you find?" Davis asked.
"Not a damn thing. Spent two weeks freezin' my ass off."
An oxygen bottle rested beside Alexander's chair. Stephanie wondered about its presence, along with an assortment of medical treatises that lined a bookcase across the room. Alexander didn't appear in poor health, and his breathing seemed normal.
"I don't know anythin' about a submarine," he repeated. "I recall, at the time, that one sank in the North Atlantic. And it was Blazek, that's right. I remember. But my mission had nothing to do with that. We were cruisin' the southern Pacific, rerouted to South America, where we picked up those three passengers. Then we headed due south."
"What was the ice like?" Davis asked.
"Even though it was nearly summertime, that place is tough sailing. Cold as a freezer, bergs everywhere. But one beautiful spot-that I will say."
"You learned nothing while you were there?" she asked.
"I'm not the one to ask about that." His countenance had softened, as if he'd concluded they might not be the enemy. "Those reports you read didn't mention three passengers?"
Davis shook his head. "Not a word. Only you."
"Typical friggin' navy." His face lost its impassive look. "My orders were to take those three wherever they wanted to go. They went ashore several times, but when they came back they'd say nothin'."
"Take any gear with them?"
Alexander nodded. "Cold-water diving suits and tanks. After the fourth time they went ashore, they said we could leave."
"None of your men went with them?"
Alexander shook his head. "No way. Not allowed. Those three lieutenants did it all. Whatever that was."
Stephanie considered the oddity, but in the military strange things occurred on a daily basis. Still, she needed to ask the million-dollar question. "Who were they?"
She saw consternation grip the old man. "You know I've never spoken of this before." He seemed unable to submerge his depression. "I wanted to be a captain. I deserved it, but the navy disagreed."
"It was a long time ago," Davis said. "There's not much we can do to repair the past."
She wondered if Davis meant Alexander's situation or his own.
"This must be important," the old man said.
"Enough that we came here today."
"One was a guy named Nick Sayers. Another, Herbert Rowland. Both cocky, like most lieutenants."
She silently agreed.
"And the third?" Davis asked.
"The cockiest of 'em all. I hated that prick. Trouble is he went on and got his captain's bars. Then gold stars. Ramsey was his name. Lang-ford Ramsey."