The Good Soldier (8 page)

"Where'd everyone go?" I said

"They scattered when I came in." Bear said.

"How'd you know?"

Bear hiked his shoulders. "Word spread pretty quick down there," he nodded toward the door, "that they were fixing to do a number on you." He shook his head. "Damn, they sure did. We've got to get out of here, Jack."

"It's not that bad." I ran cold water over my face, grabbed a handful of paper towels and cleaned out the cut on the side of my head. It'd probably needed stitches, but it'd heal without them, leaving a scar behind of course. Scars were good for my line of work, though. They added an element of intimidation.

"I'm with you, Bear. Lead the way, and I'll follow."

At that moment the door swung open and a middle aged man dressed in his combat utility uniform stepped in. He looked around the room, his gaze stopping at spots where a struggle had obviously occurred. His eyes set on Bear, then shifted to me. He shook his head.

"What a mess," he said.

I looked at Bear. He nodded at me. We both moved to the center of the room, within arm's reach of each other.

The man took a step forward, letting the door swing shut behind him. He pushed his arms out in front of him. "I'm a friend."

We said nothing.

"Abbot sent me. I'm Lt. Col. McDuffie."

"Sent you for what?" I trusted nobody at this point.

"To get you guys the hell out of my Brig," he said. "Look, this is a mess. I don't like it. I don't know where it's coming from, and I don't like it."

His eyes bounced between me, Bear and the bloody mess in the bathroom. He turned, opened the door and stuck an arm out. When he turned around again, he was holding fresh clothes. He tossed a shirt and a pair of pants to Bear.

"Noble, why don't you get cleaned up first," he said, clutching the clothes intended for me.

I nodded, headed to the back of the room and showered. The hot water stung as it washed over cuts and scrapes. I grimaced against the pain and hurried to finish. Then I put on the fresh clothing, which consisted of camouflage cargo pants and a plain gray t-shirt.

"I've got boots for you guys in the car," he said.

"The car?" Bear asked.

"Yeah, the car," he replied with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I told you I'm getting you out of here." McDuffie turned and opened the door and stopped and looked over his shoulder. "The MPs outside this door are mine. They won't do anything to you if you stick with me. They'll follow us and keep you safe."

We followed him out of the head without any further questions, heading toward the stairs. We took one flight up and then passed through a security door. We followed the narrow hall to the check-in room where McDuffie retrieved our belongings from the pale skinny MP at the counter. I wondered if anyone else ever manned it, or if Lance Corporal Skinny was the only one. We left the room and continued on, through the wider hall, past the two sets of security doors and all the administrative offices.

I had to shield my eyes from the sunlight when we stepped outside. As my eyes adjusted, I caught sight of a platoon doing their morning PT jogging by. Their rhythmic pace matched their cadence:

I know a girl dressed in Red,

Makes her living in a bed.

I know a girl dressed black,

makes her living on her back.

I know a girl dressed in green,

and she is nothing but a screwing machine.

Ooooorah up the hill, Ooooorah down the hill

McDuffie walked around the front of a black Ford Crown Victoria parked against the curb ten feet away. He turned to us. "Get in the back."

Bear shifted on his feet and hesitated. He glanced at me, looking for confirmation that it was OK to get in the car.

I felt the same hesitation. At this point we only had McDuffie's word. Neither of us knew the man, and Keller hadn't mentioned him when he visited me the night before. There was the very real possibility that this could be a set up, and both of us knew it. We felt it, instinctively. But in the end, I decided I'd rather take my chances in the car with the middle aged Lt. Col., than with the prisoners and MPs in the brig.

"Go on," the MP behind me said with a push to my back.

"Let's go, Bear," I said.

Bear opened the back door on the passenger side and got in the car.

I walked around the back of the vehicle and grabbed the handle, but stopped before getting in.

McDuffie stood with his hand on the open door to the driver's seat. He studied me for a moment. "Go on, get in."

"I can trust you, Lt. Col.?" I said.

"I'm on your side, Jack," he said.

* * *

We left Camp Lejeune behind. Houses, fields and stretches of forest passed by in a blur. We drove for forty-five minutes without saying a word.

McDuffie pulled into the parking lot of a small shopping center near I-95, just outside of Fayetteville. He parked the car and opened his door. "Let's grab something to eat." He pointed toward a 24-hour breakfast diner.

We got out and crossed the parking lot. McDuffie walked in front, and Bear and I followed close behind.

We must have missed the breakfast rush because the diner was empty. A cute hostess warily greeted us and sat us in a booth then dropped off a carafe of coffee. Moments later a blond haired waitress with red lipstick and a name tag that read Jenny took our order.

Bear and I sat shoulder to shoulder, across from McDuffie. He said nothing to us. His eyes scanned the road in front of the diner. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one and dropped the pack on the table.

I followed his gaze, stared out the window, watched cars pass by on the road we had traveled on.

"Glad you guys could make it," a voice said from behind.

I turned and saw Abbot standing there, dressed in faded blue jeans, a white polo and a tan jacket.

"Sorry things got out of hand in there, Jack," he said.

I hiked my shoulders. "Not your fault."

"You should have never been in there."

"Hear anything?"

He shook his head. McDuffie slid in toward the window and Abbot sat down next to him.

"No," Abbot said. "I've called every contact I have." He placed his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. "Half of the bastards wouldn't even take my call."

"What about General Keller?" I asked. "Did he reach out to you?"

"Briefly," Abbot replied. "After he spoke with you." He grabbed a menu, looked it over, then poured himself a cup of coffee from the steaming carafe. "He's looking into it, too," he added.

"So what now?" Bear asked.

Abbot held the mug to his mouth and blew into it, sending ripples through the coffee and a puff of steam into the air in front of him. He took a sip and his mouth contorted in response to the aftertaste. He set the mug down then lowered his hand to his lap, returning a moment later with a set of keys that he tossed onto the table.

"D.C."

"Washington?" Bear asked.

"Yeah," Abbot replied. "Neil Delaney."

He slid a folded piece of paper across the table toward me. I reached out, grabbed it and then unfolded the paper, reading the name and phone number on it. I offered it to Bear, but he shook his head, perhaps because he trusted me with the information, or maybe because he didn't want to take his eyes off the men who sat across from us.

"Who's that?" I asked.

Abbot cleared his throat and fidgeted with his scuffed gold wedding band. He brought his hands to his face and rubbed his chin with the tips of his thumbs, holding his index fingers inches from his mouth. His eyes shifted toward the window and he said nothing.

"Colonel-"

Abbot raised his hand and shook his head slightly. "He's an old friend. He's got contacts that I don't. Delaney might not have any idea what's going on when you meet with him, but give him a few hours and he'll be able to tell you everything. Who's behind it, why they're behind it, how high it goes. Everything, Jack."

He glanced over my shoulder and lifted an eyebrow while nodding once.

The waitress stopped next to me, a brown tray perched on her hand and shoulder. She expertly balanced it while setting our plates down in front of us, muttering each order under breath. In a thick, East Carolina accent she asked, "Can I get y'all anything else?"

We shook our heads in unison and waited for her to leave before speaking.

"What else?" I asked.

Abbot looked up at me with his mouth slightly open like he wanted to say something else but was holding back.

"I know there's something else, Abbot. What is it?"

He placed his fork and knife on the edge of his plate, sat back in the booth, folded his hands together and placed them on the table. He stared at me for what felt like ages before finally speaking.

"There's the chance, Jack, that this could be coming down his chain of command. Understand?"

"You haven't spoken to Delaney," I said, not a question.

"No, I haven't. So you need to know," he lifted his hand and wagged an outstretched finger between me and Bear, "that this could go badly. Once he digs into it, if it's his, uh, organization behind it, he'll turn. He's that kind of guy. Personal loyalties are superseded by the job."

I nodded. I understood, in a sense. In another I didn't. The job was just a job. There was a personal code of conduct that couldn't be violated. You might be able to move the line now and then, but there had to be a point where the line couldn't stretch any further without breaking. And when a friend needed help, that line was drawn thick and deep.

"Who does Neil work for?" Bear asked.

Abbot shook his head and looked down at his plate.

Bear looked from him to McDuffie. "You know?"

McDuffie hiked his shoulders and shook his head. "Never heard of him in my life. I'm a damn prison warden. I'll leave the spy stuff to you guys." He chuckled and then stuffed his mouth with a forkful of butter and syrup covered pancakes.

"That information is on a need to know basis," Abbot said. "Right now-"

"Don't tell us we don't need to know," I said. "At least give us this."

Abbot said nothing. He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his head toward the window.

I sighed and shook my head. "OK, then. How're we getting up there? Can't travel on a plane right now. TSA will flag us."

Abbot turned his head, pointed at the keys. "You're taking my car."

I reached out, picked the keys up off the table and stuck them in my pocket.

"But listen," Abbot said. "It won't be long before that car's hot. Understand? Like I said, I don't know who is watching and who's not."

I nodded.

"You see blue lights, you be ready to run, Jack."

I nodded again.

We finished breakfast without saying another word, and then we walked out together. Bear and I collected our things from McDuffie's car. Abbot walked us to his.

"Delaney," Abbot said to me. "He's a bit of a shifty character, Jack. But you can trust him."

"As long as his agency isn't behind this," I added.

Abbot's pursed his lips together and drew his eyebrows down. "Yeah."

We stopped in front of Abbot's car, a new silver Audi A8. I whistled and ran my finger along the sleek body of the car. "So this is what my dirty work pays for, eh?"

He stood behind the car and smiled while I opened the driver's door and slid into the leather bucket seat. He moved forward and rapped on the window. I started the car and rolled the window down.

"Take it easy with her," he said. "Please. Oh, and no smoking."

I shrugged. "We'll see."

"Here," he said. I looked over and saw him holding a billfold stuffed with cash and a few credit cards. "This should cover anything you need. Pin numbers are in the center. Commit them to memory. There's a bag in the trunk, where the spare would normally be. Inside that bag is an assortment of weapons." He paused and stared at me for a moment. "Don't get caught with them."

By the time I had the money in my pocket, Abbot was gone. I turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared approvingly. We pulled out of the parking lot and then hit the I-95 north on-ramp. I pushed the gas pedal and hit 85 miles per hour before we merged onto the interstate, then wove the car through traffic and into the fast lane.

Bear was the first to speak. "What's your read on this?"

I thought for a moment. "Abbot's not going to BS us."

"You still trust him?"

"He got us out of the brig." I glanced over at Bear. He rubbed at his beard. "If he wanted us out of the way, what better place than in there?"

I kept my eyes on the line of cars, SUVs and minivans in front of me. A mental inventory of license plates piled up and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I held my breath as we passed a parked state trooper and let my foot off the gas. I kept my eyes fixed on him in the rear-view mirror. He didn't move. I felt a release of tension for the first time that morning.

"What about this Delaney guy?" Bear asked.

"We'll have to get a read on him quick," I said.

That much was true. We'd know within a few minutes of Delaney was friend or foe. A public meeting would be necessary.

"Make sure we meet him somewhere with a lot of witnesses," Bear said.

"Reading my mind again?"

He laughed. "Guess I've known you too long." The big man yawned, leaned back. "Think it's time I get a new partner. You're getting too boring."

I smiled and looked up at the rear-view mirror. "Yeah, well you think this mess we're in is boring?" I nodded toward the back of the car at the set of blue lights that closed the distance in a few seconds. The state trooper pulled his cruiser within a few feet of our rear bumper. The lane to the right was open, but he wasn't passing. He must have clocked me going twenty over the speed limit. Or worse, Abbot could have reported the car stolen. Would he do that so quickly?

I cursed under my breath and moved into the right lane. The cruiser pulled over the same time I did. I hit the brakes and dropped the speed to fifty-five. Then I pulled onto the shoulder, prepared to stop. My mind raced thinking of the next set of actions I'd need to take.