The Summer House(53)

About ten minutes ago this group was low-key, dispirited, unsure of what to do next. I’m happy to see fire in their respective eyes.

“That’s not all,” I say. “Lieutenant Huang, you’re going back to the jail. I want another conversation with the three surviving Rangers.”

Quietly my doctor says, “I don’t know if they’re going to want to talk to me.”

“Then find out,” I say. “Do your job. For all you know, one of those Rangers might be shook up by Tyler’s suicide. And I want Captain Pierce to go along as well. Again, see if you can find out why they’re insisting on no representation. What in hell is driving them?”

“Sir,” Pierce says.

“Finally,” I say, “Sanchez and York, I want you to go back to The Summer House. Supposedly there are listening devices in there, ones that recorded the dynamic entry, the shooting, and those last words, about not screwing around with a Ranger’s family. All of that was fed to us. I want some evidence that the house was really bugged. Got it?”

More nods around the half circle of my brave folks.

“Sir?” Huang asks.

“Yes?”

“Are you going to call Colonel Broderick at noon, then?”

I smile. “I’m afraid not.”

My crew looks puzzled.

I go on. “By noon I plan to be on my way to Afghanistan.”





Chapter 44



SPECIAL AGENT CONNIE YORK is shocked by what she’s just heard and says, “Major…Afghanistan?”

“That’s right,” he says. “The Rangers being over there, their deployment being cut short, them being accused of committing the same crime in Afghanistan as they supposedly committed here in Georgia last week…that’s where it all began. It needs to be looked into. And that’s why I’m going.”

“But…” York stops what she’s about to say, knowing it’s going to sound foolish out here in this dark parking lot, with the other investigators around her.

“Go on,” Cook says. “What were you going to say?”

“Sir…you’ve always said you would never, ever go back to Afghanistan.”

The major just nods. “I have said that, haven’t I? Good memory. Things change, don’t they? All right, any other questions? Concerns? Connie, you’re going to drive me off to Hunter Army Airfield in fifteen minutes. I’m going to try to grab a flight from there.”

She says, “Yes, sir. Good luck.”

“It’s up to the Army and my convincing skills. Not sure if luck is going to be a factor. But Agent York…and everyone else, pay attention.”

His confident words just flow right out and nearly shake her to the core.

“While I’m in transit, I’m going to be in and out of contact for a couple of days,” he says. “In my absence, Agent York is in command. Questions?”

And damn him, there is a question, from Sanchez!

He steps forward, tattooed biceps prominent and bold, and he says, “Sir, if I may, no disrespect to Agent York, but I have more street experience and—”

“Shut it,” Cook says. “Anything else?”

Silence, so quiet York can hear the flying bugs bounce against the closest streetlight.

“Get to work,” he says, and he limps back to his room.

Sanchez catches her eye, and she wonders if he’s going to apologize, but he turns and goes back to his room.



Just over an hour later, York pulls the rental Ford into the parking lot of the Fourth Ranger Battalion headquarters building. Dawn broke just a few minutes ago, but the base is already busy with vehicle and pedestrian traffic.

Here the parking lot is nearly empty. The battalion is now overseas, Iraq or Afghanistan, checking their gear, loading weapons, ready to move out and act on their training to be the tip of the proverbial spear.

York says, “Are you sure, Major?”

“No choice,” he says, dressed casually, in khaki slacks and a short leather jacket, his metal cane at his side. “It started in Afghanistan. We need to find out what and how it started.”

“No, I meant—”

“You mean, why did I put you in command?” he asks. “Don’t insult me, and don’t insult yourself. Anything else?”

“Sat phone?”

“In my bag,” he says. “I’ll be out of touch here and there for the next day or two. It’s going to be yours. You heard what I said back at the motel. Follow through hard…but be flexible. Whatever new leads you develop, they’re yours. But work quickly…you probably have twenty-four hours before Quantico comes down and crushes you.”

“Nice thoughts,” York says.

“You seem pretty calm, considering your career will probably be over by the end of this week.”

York knows those words should freeze her with fear, but instead she feels almost exhilarated, knowing she is on a knife edge. She thinks maybe this is what the Rangers over in that building felt like, going into combat. Everything exposed, everything on the line.

“The only thing I’m concerned about is that we’re all out here, alone,” she says. “No support from the locals and definitely no support from Quantico. It feels like we’re the Light Brigade, charging out all alone with cannon fire roaring at us.”