Sons of Liberty: Band of Brothers

[x-dominion.livejournal.com]

Hank and Bobby dig up some information for Kane regarding the list that Jean and Kyle got from Bradley.



The information in the files stacked to one side of the diner table represented an impressive haul for so early in a case. Brand had no proof that Kane had anyone helping with the investigation, as each of the pieces had been covered up as to the details to how he really procured them. The list that Jean and Kyle had got from Bradley was easy enough to cover by the man simply offering it up when Kane called, and Naslund death revised from natural causes to foul play was firmly taken credit for by the local coroner. She likely had her suspicions, but FBI agents had a tendency to develop their own sources over time, and without proof, reporting it to SHIELD would hurt her standing as opposed to help it.

"Meatloaf, turkey sandwich with fries, Cobb salad and apple pie?" The waitress said, and Kane waved in front at the table in front of him.

"Everything except the salad is mine." He ignored her slightly puzzled look. Kane's frame needed a lot of calories, and on a case, he couldn't snack regularly with normal sized portions to make it less remarkable.

"He's a growing boy," Brand told the waitress with a smirk as her salad was set in front of her. As the waitress left, Brand picked her fork and began poking at her food, as if looking for something in the layers of vegetables, chicken and egg. "The FBI must love your expense claims," she observed with a note of amusement.

"I still haven't shifted them on that whole twenty-five dollar a day per deim. These trips end up costing me a fortune." Kane started to dig into the meatloaf, eating quickly and steadily. "So, someone smothers Will Naslund because - why? He's afraid that Naslund is going to ask for the name of their group back? And all of these incidents are in California, within eight, nine hours at most of where he lived. It's too much of a coincidence."

Brand picked some lettuce out of her salad with look of distaste, although it was hard to see what was wrong with it. "So, what are you saying? That our geriatric war veteran was part of a right-wing group attacking DoD targets? I can just see him with his walker now."

"No, but I bet he probably knew a few of them, even if he didn't necessarily know what they were involved in. Friends, someone younger who decided that Naslund and his ideas weren't good enough maybe?" He polished off the meatloaf with a last bite. "It gives motive - the more letters they signed with Sons of Liberty, the sooner someone was going to dig up Naslund's name with the original group and start asking questions."

"I suppose," Brand admitted grudgingly, raising an eyebrow at the rate the meat loaf had disappeared. "It still leaves us at a dead end - nothing in Naslund's office showed he was in contact with anyone else.."

"Au contraire. He had his nurse and maid service contact numbers in his desk. I gave them a call and turns out that he had two emergency contacts listed. The first was his daughter on the East Coast. But the local contact was for a man named Isaiah Bradley who lived up near Oakland. I ran the number with the phone company, and got regular hits on it." Kane revealed, "The local field office sent a couple of agents over, and discovered an interesting tidbit. The Sons of Liberty that Naslund was involved with was a group of military veterans who had been volunteers in the DoD's secret Super Soldier programs. None of them worked, but Naslund used to keep in contact with them to make sure that any health problems or issues that might be related to the programs were properly covered by the Army."

"Super Soldier programs?" Brand stopped with a forkful of salad halfway to her mouth, obviously surprised out of her usual attitudes. "I thought they cancelled those back after the Second World War?"

"Looks like the quest for Captain America junior never really stopped. There's been at least six that I can count from this list over the years. Everyone on the list lives in California." He hoisted his turkey sandwich with a grin of triumph. "So, you feel like questioning some aging elite soldiers?"

"I'm so excited my nipples are hard at the thought," she countered. "Does it strike you as strange as well that they're all here in California? It's not as if there's any specialist veteran's resources here, unlike DC."

Her comment earned her a momentary look of confusion before Kane shook it away. "It does seem like a too much of a coincidence not to be deliberate. The question is, whether or not it is directly tied into the terrorist attacks. The youngest of this list are still in their early forties. Most are older. Revolutions are usually made by young men."

"Old men get pissy too. It could be our old soldiers got tired of being used as guinea pigs and stirred up some of the local right wing gun nuts to act on their behalf. Either way, we're going to have to put up with old man smell and rambling stories."

"Tell them about your nipples. I'm sure they'll love it." He said, as his phone rang and he slid up to answer it.

"My nipples are just for you, Agent Kane," she replied archly, but softly enough so the person on the phone wouldn't hear it.

“This is Kane. What do you have?”

"Did I just hear the word nipples?" Was the first thing that came from the mouth of Bobby Drake followed by a few minutes of awkward silence. But eventually he was able to get his mind back on task. "I got through those names you sent me, and seems like there is definitely something up. All of the people who don't live in California seem to have found a new residence in just the past six months." He swallowed for a second. "Figured you might want to check in with them, so I got your their home addys and digits."

From the other end of the phone Hank rolled his eyes with the inflection of his speech, "I can see you are all being perfectly professional on your end, and I do hate to call a cessation to your fun and games, but...we have an update regarding Naslund." Hank emailed the data package with his attached notes in an encrypted file to Kane in case it came in useful, all- of course- signed as 'A Blue Friend.' "It would appear that the coroner who conducted the autopsy on our subject was either overworked, underpaid or just lazy- Naslund was suffocated, contrary to popular belief."

"Suffocated? Someone killed him? Shit..." Kane muttered. That might the list of names he had sent them just became a list of suspects. "What about that list, Bobby? You found those guys yet?"

"Their locations ready for Goggle map input's on its way." Bobby quickly attached the Excel document to an e-mail from his phone directed at Garrison. "Sorry I couldn't be as eloquent as the blue guy, but I at least got the job done."

"I'll look at the file in a second, but give me a preview. What did you find?"

"Not too much..." Bobby added followed by a short pause. "Oh... and the fact that all of the people who don't live in California seem to have found a new residence in just the past six months." He swallowed for a second. "Figured you might like to know that one."

"So they all coincidentally moved recently. Yeah, I smell a rat. Hank, can you send the package over to the coroner's office as well? I'd rather have them 'find' the mistake. Thanks, good work, both of you." Kane shut off his phone and turned to Brand.

"Now, Naslund is the subject of a murder investigation, and that is now a list of suspects." Kane turned off his phone and slid back into the diner booth across from Brand. “We now have addresses. Feel like visiting a few potential suspects?”

A long, thin smile was her only response.