“There are no spies in my own home,” William said forcefully. “If that is what you are thinking.”
Markham ignored the comment, opening the door and stepping into the hallway. Satisfied that no one was eavesdropping, he returned to the center of the room. “My dear nephew.” He smiled. It was a warm, encouraging smile that reached his dark, bold eyes. “The president asked me to deliver this to you personally by my very own hand.”
Xavier stared at the envelope extended toward him. He was not surprised. He had been expecting this, and Markham was both the friend and confidant of Thomas Jefferson.
Xavier accepted the envelope, his hand shaking slightly. As much as he avoided thinking of the past, it had come to confront him now. Briefly he allowed himself to feel the grief and sorrow he had become so adept at burying deep inside himself. And with it, he felt the guilt.
“I have an idea why Markham is here and I am against this,” William said tersely. He turned a pleading gaze on his son. “You fought bravely for your country in the war against France, Xavier. You do not need to do more.”
Xavier regarded his father, who had aged considerably this past year. Once he had been a leonine man, tall and broad shouldered. His body had shrunken so suddenly, almost overnight. And as if feeling constant defeat, William’s posture had become hunched, his face lined and jowled. He was only ten years older than Markham. Yet he appeared seventy to Markham’s fifty.
“It will be all right,” Xavier said quietly.
“I don’t want you to do this,” William returned. Markham, sensing victory, smiled and laid his hand on Xavier’s shoulder. “Do you know what we are asking of you?” he asked. “Do you know what the president is asking of you?”
Xavier nodded. His heartbeat quickened. He thought of going to sea again, but not to ply trade. To seek revenge. “I can imagine.” Xavier broke the seal. The missive began, “My dear sir.”
Xavier read.
Your reputation precedes you as the finest captain to sail the seas in this generation and perhaps in any other. Your retirement from the navy was taken as a grave blow by us all. Your determination, courage, and sheer heroism in the recent war with France have decided me, however; you are the man for the job. And far more than political reasons compel me now—the welfare of our citizens is at stake—the pride of our country is at slake. No longer can we turn the other cheek in expectation of fair play. The Barbary pirates do not understand the concepts that this country is founded upon—life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
Therefore, I turn to you. The time has come for decisive action against the Barbary thieves who terrorize men, women, and children from all over the world, who hold the greatest nations in the world hostage to their petty, insufferable demands, who still, to this day, violate God’s laws and those of humanity by imprisoning men, women, and children against their will and keeping them in the cruelest forms of captivity.I beg you to accept the position now being offered to you. There is no one else whom I can or will turn to with such complete faith and confidence as I turn to you. I am sure you will do what has to be done, and swiftly, for the sake of all involved. The lives of many the world over shall depend upon you. Peace, after all, shall be our triumph and our victory.
God bless and Godspeed.
Xavier’s hand trembled more visibly now. He glanced at the boldly scripted signature. “Thomas Jefferson, President of the United States of America.”
“Can you refuse such a request?” Markham asked softly in Xavier’s ear.
Xavier did not answer. He moved to the mantel and struck a match. He held the letter and watched it burn. Jefferson’s words were engraved upon his mind, and would remain that way, forever.
Most Bostonians were furious with the government, and that included the president, for their ineffective stand against the Barbary powers. Massachusetts was suffering from the depredations of the pirates. The seas no longer seemed to be free, and with that being the case, the very lifeblood of Massachusetts and her sister states was being drained away.
But Xavier considered himself a patriotic man. He could not easily dismiss the president’s plea. However, unlike other Americans and his fellow New Englanders, he had his own deep, abiding, personal reasons for accepting such a secret commission. And he knew this commission was top secret. “You don’t have to do this,” William interrupted with desperate intensity. “Xavier, a second naval squadron has already left for the Mediterranean. In a few weeks it will arrive off Gibraltar. At least wait six months and see what our navy can accomplish.Please!”
“Commodore Morris is a buffoon,” Markham said with irritation. “An inept buffoon.”
Xavier laid his palm on his father’s shoulder. “Markham is correct. The commodore is not up to the task he has been given. Father, where is your patriotism?”
“My patriotism died last year,” William said heavily.
Xavier’s heart broke. “Unfortunately,” he said softly, “mine did not.”
William’s face crumpled. “You are my only son. Oh, God. Xavier!” He reached out, crushing the taller young man in his embrace.
Xavier pulled back and saw that his father was crying. Tears trickled down William’s seamed cheeks. Xavier felt an urge to cry as well, but refused to. “I must go,” he said roughly.
“I know,” William said. His eyes were filled with resignation and fear.
“So you will do it!” Markham cried joyously. His hand slapped Xavier’s back. “Will you accept this secret commission? Become the secret, lethal weapon of the United States?”
“Yes,” Xavier said, and his eyes turned black with determination. An iron will was stamped on his chiseled face. “I will do it. I will go.” His heart beat hard, fiercely—he was exultant now. “I will ready thePearltoday.”
William inhaled sharply.
This time Xavier could not meet his eyes. He wanted to reassure his father that he would succeed, but suddenly he could not make such a promise. Suddenly, mingled with his newfound impatience, with his excitement and anticipation, there was a strange sense of dread.
The hairs on Xavier’s nape rose.
