The Escape (John Puller, #3)(37)

Puller said, “Can you ask for stat service? Otherwise, it could take weeks. Even with an expedited reply we’re looking at one to four days.”

“I can. But there’s a backlog these days.”

“Not as bad as when Afghanistan and Iraq were going full-bore,” pointed out Knox.

“No, and thank God for that,” said the ME.

“Can I see the flip side?” asked Puller, indicating the dead man.

He helped the ME turn the body over. Puller again started at the top and worked his way to the bottom. And once more he leaned in closer, this time when he reached the calves. The traces were barely visible, but they were also three in number and uniformly spaced.

“Did you see these?” he asked.

The ME leaned in and then used a handheld light with attached magnifier. He pointed to one faint line. “I thought that one might be from his sock line. But I didn’t see the other two,” he added in a distressed tone. “Although his legs are particularly hairy. You must have great eyesight.” Puller straightened. “I saw them because I was looking for them. Based on what I saw on the forearms.” He helped the ME roll the body back to its original position.

“What do you mean?” Knox asked.

Puller didn’t answer her. He glanced at the ME. “Will you let us know as soon as you have an ID on this guy? He looks military, but he might not be. Particularly if he doesn’t show up in the databases.”

The ME nodded.

Puller leaned down and more closely studied the dead man’s features. “He actually looks Eastern European. Jawline, nose, cheeks, forehead.” He lifted up one of the hands. “Calluses, heavy one on the right index finger’s top pad.”

Knox bent closer and looked at the finger. “From friction with a trigger?”

Puller nodded. “Maybe. Can I see the teeth?”

The ME used a tool to open the mouth and lever back the lips. Puller peered inside the mouth. “Guy’s never been to a dentist. Bad teeth but no metal.”

He nodded to the ME, who let the mouth close.

“Can you run an isotope toxicology on the hair? With that you can tell where he’s from, or at least where he’s been recently, right?”

The ME said, “That’s right. Hydrogen and oxygen isotopes transferred to hair from food and water taken in by the person as well as from the air they breathe. His hair is pretty short so it won’t give me a broad spectrum to work with. Head hair grows at a rate of about one to one point five centimeters a month. With hair as short as his any answer will be locked in to where he was recently.”

“I think that might be good enough.”

“Understand that while the U.S. has a pretty good isotope map on water and air differentials, other countries may not. If he’s from some obscure third world nation we might not get a hit.”

“We’ll never know until we try. As soon as you can get it done would be appreciated.”

“Roger that, Chief Puller.”

“And, Doc?” said Puller. The ME looked at him. “Keep what we just discussed on the QT for now, okay?”

The ME’s brow wrinkled. “But I have reports to make and—”

“Just for now, QT, okay? For a lot of reasons. One of the major ones being I don’t see how any of this happened without some help on the inside. So that means we might have someone playing against us who we think is on our side.”

The ME gaped at him and then closed his mouth. He nodded curtly. “Right.”

Puller walked down the corridor so fast Knox had to hustle to keep up.

“Where are you going?”

“To look at surveillance camera footage.”

“At this hour?”

“Why, you got a date or something?”

“But we’ve already looked at the feed from inside the prison.”

“But we haven’t looked at the feed from outside the prison.”





“Hold it right there,” said Puller, and Knox clicked the key to freeze the frame.

They were sitting in a cubicle at the DB reviewing the surveillance camera footage from the entrance to the prison.

Puller ran his gaze over the trucks that had just rammed the front gates of the prison.

“Now do it in slow motion.”

She did so and Puller started to count, jotting down numbers in his notebook. He had her back up the video and repeat the process twice. When he’d finished, he said, “Okay, let’s see the exit.”

She brought this footage up and then hit the computer keys to make it move forward slowly. She watched as Puller started to count again. He had her repeat the video as he had done before. And he wrote down more numbers. When he was done she stopped the feed and sat back, looking at him expectantly.

“Well?” she asked.

“Fort Leavenworth dialed up an entire company of MPs to take control of DB. They came in six heavy trucks. Four platoons, totaling one hundred and thirty-two men, and the leadership component, a captain and his first sergeant.”

“Okay?”

“The six drivers stayed with the vehicles, but I counted one hundred and thirty-three men in riot gear getting off those trucks. Plus the captain and the first sergeant.”

“So one hundred and thirty-five men in total.”