BPBB - Is Yesterday Part 2 of Part 3
Title: Is Yesterday part 3 (in two posts because it's too long for one LJ post)
<=== Part 1 of part 3 is here
This is a direct sequel to Is Yesterday part 1 and part 2 which is a sequel to The Only Easy Day.
Series: Bulletproof Baby Blankets
~0~
Emma and Dancy thought the play was perfect. Chris Drake was perfect. It was all perfect!!! The guys weren’t quite as impressed but didn’t do anything to burst their bubbles of happiness. Zach told John he found the plot vacuous but the performances were more than adequate. John thought the leading actress was hot like fire, a remark he had not intended for his fathers to hear. They graciously pretended they had not.
They finally got Emma and Dancy settled in bed an hour after they had gotten back to the hotel. John and Zach disappeared shortly afterwards, Henry going across with them.
“Well. This is has been a full day,” Danny said when he and Steve were in bed. Steve was checking his email and mostly listening to Danny.
“It has. Good thing the baseball game is the only thing we have planned tomorrow,” Steve said.
“Sure is,” Danny agreed. “Anything important going on back home?”
“Kono is threatening to quit. Be a full-time mom. Chin wants to blow up Molokai. The house speaker sent me 4 more emails. The last one is all caps,” Steve said, turning his computer to show it to Danny.
“Mature,” Danny said. “Tell Chin he can blow up Molokai if the speaker is on it.”
“Good plan,” Steve agreed. “The Secretary of the Navy sends her appreciation for my appearances. Apparently I’m going to get a bonus from them.”
“Huh,” Danny said. “We can use it to buy John a car.”
“Or I can buy you the Porsche you’ve always wanted.”
“You’d never let me drive it,” Danny said with a wave.
“I might,” Steve said, typing a reply to an email.
“Okay. As long as it’s red,” Danny said, his eyes drifting closed.
“Not silver like your Camaro?”
“Whatever. If you drive a Porsche, it doesn’t really matter what color it is. I just want it as a chick-magnet.”
“What do you want chicks for? We can’t keep birds in the Governor’s residence,” Steve teased.
“Shut up,” Danny said, falling asleep before he finished saying it.
~o0o~
The baseball game was a resounding success. The team reps took exceptionally good care of the family, making sure they had everything they needed, including popcorn, soda, peanuts, and more souvenirs than they could carry. A bonus was that the Mets won in the 10th inning on a home run.
The kids were pretty much worn out when they got back to the hotel. They ate a quick dinner in the restaurant before going up to their rooms where they watched some TV. The kids fell asleep before the first commercial, Steve and Danny tucking in Emma and Dancy. Henry herded the boys across the hall, making sure they were settled.
Steve did some work before he succumbed as well, falling asleep way earlier than he had in a very long time. But as he had to be up and ready before the sun the next morning, he gave in and let sleep overtake him.
~0~
“Huh?” Danny grunted when the alarm went off.
“I’m sorry, Babe. Go back to sleep,” Steve whispered as he reluctantly climbed out of bed.
“Time is?”
“4:30. Lt Brown will be here in an hour. I need to get ready,” Steve said.
“Eat,” Danny said into his pillow.
“I will,” Steve assured him, kissing his head. “Go back to sleep.”
“Uhn,” Danny responded, following his suggestion and falling completely to sleep.
Steve showered and dressed, going down to the lobby to find some coffee and a couple of muffins. At 5:30 precisely, Lt Brown entered the hotel, finding Steve easily.
“I see you are ready,” she said with a bright smile.
“I suppose I am,” Steve said. “Would you like some coffee?”
“I would. Thank you,” she said as Steve purchased her a cup.
They made their way to the studio, the trip quick with the virtual lack of traffic so early on a Sunday. Steve was escorted to make-up, the experience much like it had been each of the previous times. He was thankful that his tan prevented the need for too much coverage. That done, he was shown the green room where Lt Brown waited with a carafe of hot, fresh coffee.
“Is he here?” Steve asked her as he sipped the coffee.
“He is,” she said. “He’s in a different room. They didn’t think having you wait together was a particularly good idea.”
“It wouldn’t be,” Steve confirmed. He looked over at the door as it opened to reveal a man holding an iPad.
“Commander. Or Governor,” the man said, looking up Steve.
“I’m him,” Steve said with a nod.
“I’m Bruce Vegas, associate producer. Thank you for agreeing to appear on Sunday Morning Round-up.”
“Thank you for having me,” Steve said.
“I don’t think I need to give you the guidelines some of our guests need. Many others, like you, are veterans of TV appearances. You know the protocols and the rules.”
“I do,” Steve said.
“Very good. Do you watch our show?” Bruce asked.
“On occasion. I’m not a regular viewer.”
“I understand,” Bruce said. “Victor Blake will allow a free-flowing discussion but as you may know, he will intervene should the atmosphere become overly contentious.”
“I have seen that,” Steve agreed. “I appreciate the way he balances his responsibilities to allow the guests to disagree but not denigrate into a brawl.”
“It’s a skill he’s learned over the years,” Bruce said with a nod. “I’ll be back by in five minutes to take you to the studio. Do you have any questions I can help you with?”
“No I don’t,” Steve said. “Thank you for the information.”
“You are very welcome, Commander. Governor. Ermmm…which do you prefer?” Bruce asked, studying his iPad with a frown.
“Governor is more current. Steve is always fine,” Steve said with a smile.
“I’ll let Victor know,” Bruce said, leaving the green room.
Steve and Lt Brown resumed their seats, Steve looking over at her. “I didn’t realize that the Navy intended to pay me for my appearances.”
“It would be an imposition on your time if they did not,” Lt Brown said.
“I’m not sure I can accept the money. I’ll have to check with my lawyer.”
“We inquired. She assures us that you are permitted to accept as there are no political activities connected to the stipend.”
“It’s hardly a stipend,” Steve said. “It’s quite a bit of money.”
“We are taking you away from your responsibilities and your home. That requires compensation.”
“I certainly didn’t expect it but I’m not going to refuse,” Steve laughed.
“Did the children enjoy the play?” Lt Brown asked.
“The girls loved it. The boys thought it was okay. Danny, Henry, and I are apparently not the audience it’s intended for. We weren’t entirely sure what was going on,” Steve admitted.
“I’ve heard that reaction,” she said.
“The game yesterday was a lot of fun,” Steve said. “The Mets were overly kind to us.”
“Not at all. They were honored that you came,” she said, standing with him at the knock on the door.
“It’s time,” Bruce said with an encouraging smile.
Steve nodded, following him down the two hallways and onto the stage. Steve tried to stop the disgust from showing on his face when he saw Kirby Greenly already sitting at the glass and chrome table. Also there was Victor Blake, looking as authoritative as he did on TV. He was often voted one of America’s Most Trusted and Steve could understand why.
“Governor,” Mr. Blake said, greeting him with a firm handshake. “Thank you for appearing with us.”
“Thank you for having me as a guest,” Steve said in response.
“I don’t think you’ve met Mr. Greenly,” Mr. Blake said, looking over at the other man when he stood.
“I haven’t,” Steve said, not initiating a handshake. Neither did the Mr. Greenly who looked at Steve with an expression of antagonism bordering on hatred.
“Governor Williams-McGarrett. Kirby Greenly,” Mr. Blake said formally. “Sit, please.” The three of them sat, Mr. Blake at the head of the table, Steve and Kirby on opposite sides. “We’ll begin the interview with a brief recap of your book, Mr. Greenly. I’ll open it to discussion following that. While I understand there will be some disagreement, I expect only civil discourse from each of you.”
Steve felt like he was back in school but he had the feeling the warning wasn’t directed primarily toward him. He agreed, Kirby also acknowledging the ground rules.
“Any questions? We’ll go live in three minutes,” Mr. Blake said.
“I don’t have any questions to ask,” Kirby said, shaking his head. He was silently daring Steve to ask anything which Steve thought was fairly hysterical.
“I’m all set,” Steve said.
There was very little said as they waited for the show to officially begin. Steve could see the director silently counting down after the announcement was made that there were 20 seconds to air.
“Good morning and welcome to Sunday Morning Round-up,” Mr. Blake said to the camera, the lights bright, the studio silent. “After this review of the weekend’s top stories, we’ll turn to our two guests.” The lights faded as the pre-taped news played in the background.
As the lights returned to their on-air brightness, Mr. Blake made the introductions, giving the audience a brief background on Steve and Kirby. Steve’s introduction took twice as long as Kirby’s since Kirby’s main claim to fame seemed to have been writing a fictional book he claimed was fact.
“Mr. Greenly, your accounts of the events in Pakistan have been called into question,” Mr. Blake said bluntly. “What do you say about those statements?”
Steve was watching Kirby with what he knew Danny would call his thousand-yard-SEAL-death-stare. He thought it was still fairly effective although it never worked on the children. They seemed immune from most of his formerly effective tactics to gain the upper hand.
“Those files remain classified,” Kirby said, his voice nearly quivering in anger. “I could not have written my account if I hadn’t been there.”
“Yet there are those, including Governor Williams-McGarrett, who have stated your version is not true,” Mr. Blake said.
“There is no way he can know if my version is right or wrong,” Kirby claimed.
“I do know,” Steve said calmly and firmly. “I know you weren’t there.”
“And you were?” Kirby sneered.
“If you were a SEAL as you claimed, you would know that information is classified. The fact is that you were not a SEAL. Not then and not now,” Steve said. Kirby looked as though Steve had punched him which was a real temptation.
“You have no proof of that,” Kirby countered.
Steve reached down for the folder he had brought with him, pulling out one sheet of paper which he handed to Mr. Blake. “Would a letter from the Secretary of the Navy be adequate proof?” Steve asked him, still pinning him with his gaze.
“It’s a forgery,” Kirby tried, his desperation coming through.
“It certainly looks authentic to me,” Mr. Blake said, holding it up so that the camera could show it to the audience. The letter said that at no time was Kirby Greenly a SEAL and his account of the events in Pakistan were neither accurate nor sanctioned as official. It was signed by the Secretary of the Navy and witnessed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
“Of course they are disavowing knowledge of the events and my existence,” Kirby said.
“That’s only true on TV and in movies,” Steve said. “They have never disavowed my missions. Nor do they claim I was never a SEAL.”
“If they don’t disavow your missions, are you admitting you were in Pakistan?” Kirby demanded.
“Disavowing and remaining classified are two distinct designations. I have never claimed I was a part of the team who took out bin Laden. I do know that you were not,” Steve said.
“If you weren’t there, you can’t be sure I wasn’t,” Kirby said.
“You were not a SEAL,” Steve stated again.
“Maybe you are the one who’s lying about his service,” Kirby said his desperation growing. He was sweating, his hands shaking, his face flushed bright red.
“I’m Governor of Hawaii,” Steve said. “My opponents would have discovered my lies if I took the service of others as my own. Additionally, I was still a SEAL when I was recruited to head-up the Five-0 task force. Then Governor Jameson would not have asked me to be responsible for Five-0 if I had stolen the uniform I wore when I first met her.”
“Is that the same Governor you were accused of murdering?” Kirby sneered.
“Accused yes. I was also exonerated as I was innocent of the crime. I was a reservist the entire time. The Navy did not strip me of my rank nor my clearance to view classified records.”
Mr. Blake looked at Steve with an expression of reflected triumph. That he wanted Kirby to go up in flames was clear. He finally turned to Kirby to break the brittle silence. “Your response, sir?”
“Documents can be forged. Records falsified,” Kirby tried.
“Then why can I find no records of your service?” Steve asked. “I have been permitted to search all of the SEAL personnel files. You appear in none of the records, classified or otherwise. Annapolis has no record of you. Nor do any of the SEAL training facilities.”
“Do you wish to reconsider your claims?” Mr. Blake asked Kirby. His tone was even with an underlying anger that made them hard enough to cut glass.
Kirby stared at Mr. Blake before turning to stare at Steve. “This interview is over,” Kirby announced. With that, he stood, removed the microphone clipped to his lapel and stormed off the set.
“Well,” Mr. Blake said, turning his focus on Steve. “I believe that settles it.”
“It looks that way,” Steve had to agree. “I’m sorry for his pain. But I cannot understand his motivation.”
“Those who have not achieved any level of professional success have been known to fabricate it to falsely bolster their self-perception.”
“I suppose that could explain it,” Steve said.
“You certainly are not lacking in success,” Mr. Blake said warmly.
“I have been very fortunate,” Steve said. “My personal successes are even more important to me than my professional ones. Nothing I have achieved would have been meaningful if I didn’t have the love of my family.”
“As it should be, Governor,” Mr. Blake confirmed, smiling at him.
~0~
After chatting with Mr. Blake several more minutes, Steve was thanked for his appearance and disappeared during the commercial break. When he was backstage, he had a text waiting for him.
Hurry the hell back here. You are aobut to get lucky.
Steve laughed, hitting reply. Roger that. Get rid of the kids.
Done.
Steve knew Lt Brown was studying him with a quizzical expression but some things didn’t need to be shared outside of the two parties involved.