Night and Day (Book 2): Bleeding Sky (19 page)

Martinez
didn’t say anything.

“I’d
hate to lose you, trooper,” Bristow said softly.

She
took a deep breath. “Sir, I recognized Trooper Foster and Corporal
Harp.”

“Anyone
else?”

Martinez
shook her head. “No, sir. There were other voices, but they were low and I
didn’t recognize them.”

“All
right, trooper. Have a seat at your desk and no matter what you see or hear,
remain absolutely silent. Can you do that?”

 “Yes,
sir.” She sat down at the small desk against the wall and folded her hands
on the top of it.

I
looked at Bristow. “Let’s start with Foster,” I said.

“Good
choice,” he said. “He’s young. Harp’s older, a real hard case.”

“Even
hard cases can be opened with the right tools,” I said. “Bring in Foster,
don’t say anything about why. If you need to replace him at whatever
checkpoint he’s at, put one of your people there.”

“Sir,”
he said. He opened the door and left.

I
turned to Martinez. “Are you proficient with a pistol?”

“Yes,
sir,” she said. “Pistol, rifle, SAW, shotgun, LAW...”

I
held up my hand. “Fine. When we’re finished this morning, get yourself a
sidearm and have it with you at all times. When you go to bed at night,
stick it under your pillow.” That had always been Joshua’s line. Keep your
door locked and your pistol under your pillow. I always did.

“Yes,
sir,” she said.

“I
also think I’ll have you bunk with me for the duration of this
assignment.”

“Sir?”
Her eyes were wide again.

“Not
in my bed, trooper,” I said. “On the couch in my living room. It’s
comfortable enough, more comfortable than the one in my office. You’ll be
fine.”

“Sir,
I...”

“This
isn’t a discussion, Martinez. Your insight has already proven useful to me.
I wouldn’t want to miss any of your pearls of wisdom because you’re not
nearby.” And I wasn’t interested in seeing her get any of the fallout from
what was about to happen.

“Yes,
sir.”
 

Five
minutes later, Bristow returned to the office, a young trooper behind him.
The trooper look like he was in his mid-twenties, kind of scrawny, with a
pug nose. “Trooper Thomas Foster,” Bristow said.

Foster
looked around the room as he came in, his eyes resting on Martinez for a
moment. Then he stopped in front of my desk and saluted. “Trooper Foster,
reporting.”

“What
happened last night, Foster?”

“Nothing,
sir,” he said. He was a dumb one. This would almost be too easy.

I
smiled. “You know, trooper, I used to be a police officer before the war. Do
you have any idea how many people I interviewed when I was a cop?” I paused.
“You’d probably call it interrogated, but we called them interviews.” I
paused again. “Like this one.”

Foster
didn’t say anything.

“You
couldn’t possibly know, so I’ll tell you. Hundreds. Maybe a thousand. Some
of those interviews were hard, others easy. Do you know how I knew I was
going to have an easy one?”

“No,
sir,” he said.

“I’d
ask the suspect, which is what we called the people on the other side of the
desk like you, a question. I’d ask something like, ‘Do you know why you’re
here?’. The smart ones would say no. The dumb ones would tell me that they’d
been home all night, or that they didn’t know anything about what happened.
They’d show what we call foreknowledge of the crime I was going to ask them
about. So I’d have them, from that very first question.”

Foster
was watching me carefully.

“Just
like I have you,” I said. “When I asked my question, you should have asked
me when, or where, or what I meant. You didn’t, because you already know. So
you lied.”

“No,
sir, I just...”

“Shut
up,” I interrupted. “Speak when I ask you a question. Not
before.”

I
leaned back in my chair. “So this is good, right? We can cut to the chase
and save both of us some time. My second question is simple. Who else was
involved?”

“Involved
in what, sir?”

I
shook my head. “No, you can’t suddenly get smart, Tom.” I looked at Bristow.
“Take this asshole somewhere private, so you don’t frighten the civilians,
and put a bullet in his head. On your way back, grab Corporal Harp. Maybe
he’ll be more open to an honest discussion.”

“Yes,
sir,” Bristow said.

“Wait!”
Foster shouted.

“Memory
improving, trooper?”

“Sir,
it was not my choice. I was ordered to participate.” He paused. “I like
Lita.”

“Apparently
not enough,” I said. “But don’t jump the gun, trooper. Answer the first
question and then we’ll get to the next one. Who participated?”

“Corporal
Harp, Trooper Oduyu, Trooper Collins, Trooper Reed, Trooper Chen.” He
paused. “And myself.”

I
could see Bristow jotting down the names on a pad he’d pulled from his shirt
pocket. He kept the pad out. Once the floodgates open, they usually stay
open.

“Good,”
I said. “And who ordered you to participate?”

“Sergeant
Watson, sir.”

“First
Platoon sergeant,” Bristow said. “Their platoon daddy.”

“I
didn’t want to, sir. I always liked Lita. But Sgt. Watson said she’d
disgraced the platoon and Lt. Stein, that she had to go. The other troopers
were all game, so I guess I just went along with it.”

“That
was a very poor choice,” I said. I looked at Bristow. “How do you punish
troopers in the Security Force?”

“Thirty
days in the stockade is about the upper limit,” he said. “If the infraction
is more serious, we generally turn them over to Commander
Takeda.”

I
looked at Foster. “How’s that sound, trooper? Little face time with Miss
Takeda?”

The
color had drained from Foster’s face. He tried to speak, but couldn’t seem
to form words.

“Maybe
an extended stay in the stockade,” Bristow said. “It’s not exactly a
vacation destination, sir. Especially for human prisoners. The night shift
guards can be rough.”

“Good
suggestion, captain,” I said. “Fine, we won’t bother Miss Takeda with this.
Everyone that Foster mentioned, sixty days in the stockade and dismissal
from the Security Force at the end of it.”

I
glanced at Foster. “Now get this piece of shit out of my office and round up
the rest of the party boys and girls. Put your people in their spots until
you can get replacements here. You’re going to need five troopers, a
corporal, and a platoon sergeant.”

“Yes,
sir,” Bristow said.

“Then
bring me Sgt. Watson.”

“Let’s
go, Foster,” he said.

The
young trooper seemed dazed. Bristow had to grab his shoulder and give him a
pull in the direction of the door before he got moving.

As
soon as they were gone, Martinez said, “Sir, I don’t think...”

“Don’t
even go there, Lita. Any other C.O. in the Security Force would have turned
them over to Takeda without a second thought. Captain Bristow made a
suggestion that saved their lives, and I took it. End of story.”

“Yes,
sir,” she said quietly.

“I
told you, this isn’t about you. If somebody can get away with kicking the
crap out of my aide, then I’m no longer an effective commander.” I paused.
“And if I’m going to fail, I’d rather do it on my own, without a shove from
below.”

Watson
should have been a tough nut to crack. He was a hefty, moon-faced guy with a
belly that stretched the front of his uniform shirt, a bald head and a
moustache. Army before the war, Security Force after. Lifer. But all it took
was a little story.

“How
long have you been with this company, sergeant?” I asked, looking up at him.
He stood at attention in front of my desk, staring past the top of my
head.

“Almost
two years, sir.”

I
nodded. “Then you were with the company when Captain Simon Hill was in
command?”

That
got his attention. His eyes flickered down at me for a moment, then back up.
“Yes, sir, I served under Captain Hill before Captain Bristow took
command.”

“And
what happened to Captain Hill?”

Watson
was silent, staring past me. Then he said, “Captain Hill was relieved by
Commander Takeda. Sir.”

“Relieved.
Yes, I guess that’s one way to put it.”

“You
were there, Dev,” Bristow said. I guess he wanted in on this. “We all were.
Platoon lieutenants, platoon sergeants. You remember, in the parking lot
outside the City Barracks. Commander Takeda and her sword.”

“I
remember, captain,” Watson said.

“Now
here’s something you probably didn’t know, Watson,” I said. “Captain Hill
was...relieved because he exceeded his orders. And I’m the one who issued
those orders.”

His
eyes came down to me for a moment, then back up over my head.

I
didn’t mention that it hadn’t been my intention that Hill be punished, let
alone executed. He’d closed the Downtown District police station after
taking an important witness involving Joshua’s murder into custody and
locked the day shift officers in the squadroom. It was excessive, and I was
angry. So was Jimmy Mutz, who’d been locked out of his office. But it was
just a mistake, an overly zealous officer who made the wrong choice. I
hadn’t told Takeda what happened. But somebody had.

“Nobody
else was punished for Captain Hill’s excesses,” I said. “When it comes to
orders, shit sometimes flows uphill.”

I
leaned forward. “Assuming there is an uphill.”

Watson
said nothing.

“I’m
going to give you one chance to tell me if there’s an uphill here, sergeant.
Only one. If you followed an order, I want to know. If you’re at the top of
the hill, so be it. If you want to take responsibility for an order you were
given, it’s your choice. I leave that up to you. Either way, my point gets
made.” I paused. “So, sergeant, did you order the blanket party on Trooper
Martinez or were you following someone else’s order.”

“It
wasn’t an order, sir. It was a suggestion. He said that Trooper Martinez had
disgraced First Platoon with her poor performance. He said that she’d been
properly punished, but you’d overruled his order and disrespected the
platoon and the Security Force. He said you needed to be shown that the
Security Force handles discipline according to our procedures, not those of
a civilian.”

“Who?”
I already knew the answer, but I needed him to say it.

“Lt.
Stein, sir.”

I
can’t say I was surprised. The incident with the shop closing had clearly
pissed him off and he wasn’t happy about Martinez coming back either. The
only thing that did surprise me was how obvious he’d been. He had to know
that the blanket party would lead back in his direction. Did he really
believe that I’d just let it slide, or that the men who’d participated and
Sgt. Watson would take the rap and the punishment, leave him out of
it?

I
glanced at my watch. It was almost 8:30. My appointment with the ambassador
was half an hour away. Stein would have to wait.

“The
same punishment for Watson as the others,” I said to Bristow. “I have to go
talk to the ambassador about his plans for this visit. I have no idea how
long that will take, but I should have some actionable information when I’m
done.” I paused. “Can you get by without a platoon lieutenant for the rest
of this operation?”

He
nodded. “Sergeant Mackey can handle the platoon lieutenant assignment when
we get Watson’s replacement.”

“Good,”
I said. “Then Meyers will be taking over First Platoon. Relieve Lt. Stein
immediately and confine him somewhere. In here, if you like. I’ll deal with
him when I get back.” I glanced back at Watson. “Now get this fat fuck out
of my office.”

“Let’s
go, Watson,” Bristow said.

As
they left, I looked at Martinez. “You want to meet an
ambassador?”

Chapter
Twelve

Ron
Clay was perched on the edge of the ramp below the closed hatch as Martinez
and I approached Heymann’s trailer. He was smoking a cigarette. The ground
around the ramp was littered with a dozen butts.

“Morning,
Charlie,” he said as we got close. His eyes flickered to Martinez. “And
who’s this?” He shook his head. “I hope the other guy looks worse than
you.”

“Trooper
Lita Martinez,” I said. “My aide.”

“Morning,
Lita,” he said, extending his hand.

“Good
morning, sir,” she said with a salute.

Clay
smiled and slowly raised his extended arm to match the salute.
“Trooper.”

“Martinez
was Army before the war,” I said. “I guess old habits die hard.”