The Severance (15 page)

“Jessica is smoking hot, but I don’t know anyone stupid enough to steal a helicopter for a piece of tail,” Jake said.

“Sir, as I recall, you once stole a Javelin trying to impress a girl,” McBride responded.

Jake scowled. In the early days of the deployment Jake had, in fact, “liberated” an FGM-148 Javelin manportable antitank guided missile and tried to fire it in an attempt to impress the brigade’s highly attractive, and newly single, assistant supply officer. Though he wasn’t formally trained to operate the weapon, Jake was absolutely convinced that he could have figured it out, if McBride hadn’t found and stopped him. For three days following the incident Jake referred to McBride as “McCockBlock.”

McBride was right; men did stupid things to impress their lovers.

“It’d only be a matter of clever paperwork on the part of the pilot to make the Chinook ‘disappear’ for a few days,” Jake said finally.

“Stealing a truck on a place like this would be as easy as jaywalking. Most people just leave the keys in the ignition,” McBride added. Most of the Toyota Hiluxes on Bagram came from the local area. There was no way of keeping any kind of registration database on them, as they were essentially already stolen, anyway.

Jake wondered why Jessica would try to kill him if she were after The Severance. McBride had a theory for that, too.

“She was sending a warning. She’s trying to tell us that she’s serious,” McBride said.

“I’m pretty sure the message was just directed at me,” Jake said.

McBride chuckled for a moment.

“What’s puzzling me is that all she’s got is the container serial number. How could she glean anything from that? By itself, the number means nothing,” Jake said.

“Sir, at this point she doesn’t need to know what’s in the box. She’s smart enough to recognize a container serial number and she can connect the dots that whatever is in the box is something important to you,” McBride said, lighting another Miami.

“So it’s something important. For all she knows, it’s where we stored all our pornography,” Jake said.

“Don’t kid yourself. I know the girls you mess with, Sir. They’re not stupid. Not by a long shot. It would be just a matter of placing a call over to the civilian contractors at the movement office to figure out the container was being routed through Strategic Airlift for a direct flight back to the States,” McBride said.

“So? I’m concerned about a container making it to the States?” Jake said.

“You’re forgetting that if she called the movement office, they’d tell her who the container belonged to as a matter of procedure. That’s not us, if you’ll recall,” McBride said.

Jake’s shoulders drooped, and he let out a groan. The first rule of smuggling in the military was never to use a container that could be traced back to the smuggler. The second rule of smuggling in the military was never to write that container’s serial number down in a notebook and then lose that notebook. Jake had never been very good at following rules.

“Take heart, boss. It’s not all bad,” McBride said, blowing a casual smoke ring.

“How could it get worse?” Jake asked.

“She might know we’re smuggling, but she doesn’t know what or how valuable it is. Likely she thinks we’re moving guns or drugs.”

“Why is that a good thing?” Jake asked.

“Guns and drugs are hard to move back in the States. She wouldn’t know how to turn them into a profit,” McBride said.

“She thinks we have a buyer. She’s looking to get in on our deal,” Jake said.

“Exactly.”

“There’s just one problem with that, Greg. We’re not moving drugs or guns, we don’t have a buyer, and we don’t have any kind of ‘deal,’” Jake said.

“So? As long as she thinks it’s true, who cares?” McBride asked rhetorically.

Jake did not nod his head in agreement. Though his platoon sergeant had made a compelling argument, something wasn’t sitting right with Jake. Something was out of place.

“You’re sure about Olsen? You’re 100 percent sure he’s still in the dark?” Jake asked.

“Sir, trust me. Sergeant Olsen is parked down at that talent show yukking it up with Lopez and Nelson. The guy is too stupid to play a game of spades, and even if he did know about The Severance, he’d never make a move on it, out of fear of retribution from the boys. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s got no friends around here,” McBride replied. Jake could tell that McBride didn’t like being doubted. McBride had never lied to his superior officer and there was no one Jake trusted more. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought that he was missing something.

“Okay, so we got her pegged. Now, what are we going to do about it?” McBride asked.

“We’re going to have to move The Severance to another container,” Jake replied.

“Maybe you’re forgetting all the trouble we went through getting it into that container?”

“I haven’t forgotten, but it’s the best idea I can come up with right now. If she doesn’t know where it is, then she can’t get to it.”

“Okay,” McBride said, dropping his butt between his feet, stepping on it, and lighting another cigarette. “We can get the V-bolts, cable locks, and padlocks we need, no problem. How do you plan to get us the customs seals we need to reseal the container?”

When Army customs inspectors examined containers and certified their contents, they placed a tamperproof aluminum band around the lock eyelets. If anyone opened a container after the inspection, the seal would break and the container could not be shipped. Only the inspectors from the 224th Transportation Battalion, based out of Bagram, had the seals.

“We’re going to go down to the customs inspectors’ office, break in, and steal the seals we need. Tonight,” Jake said.

McBride whistled slowly, as he contemplated what Jake had just said.

“Pretty straightforward, Sir. You sure you don’t want to finesse this a little more?”

“No, we don’t have time to plan anything more complex. You, me, and maybe two more guys for manpower are going to go down there and get those seals. There shouldn’t be any kind of security. If we can avoid destroying the building, that would be better.”

“Okay, I’ll round up two of the boys. After we have the seals, you want to bum-rush the container yard and move The Severance?” McBride asked.

“No, we’ll wait and hit that at daybreak.” Jake marveled that he sounded so confident, even to himself. “That part is going to require some time and finesse. We’re going to be rattling around in there a while, trying to find another container that suits our needs. They most certainly will have security posted there and that would be all over us. We need the ambient noise of the extra vehicle and foot traffic around the yard to cover our tracks,” he concluded.

“Daybreak is no good, Sir,” McBride said.

Jake scowled. His plan was being ripped already?

“Public Affairs guys came by while you were out and let us know that our award ceremony has been pushed up to 0900. They need us there at 0800 for preparation. We wouldn’t have the time to pull off your idea and get there in time,” McBride said.

“Damn!” Jake said, gritting his teeth.

“We’re just going to have to do the job after the ceremony,” McBride said.

“By then it could be too late,” Jake replied.

“How about this: you get the seals and I scout out the container yard and see if I can find a way in?”

Jake thought about it for a moment and agreed that McBride’s idea was the best division of labor.

“Good deal. I’ll take Big Joe and Bena with me to get the seals,” Jake said, looking at his watch; it was 10:45. They were running out of time.

“No matter what, we meet back in the tent at 0100,” Jake said.

“And the nurse, what about her?” McBride asked. They could move The Severance, but there was no way to ensure that it was safe until they dealt with Jessica. She’d become a problem that could not be dealt with easily or politely.

After a long pause, Jake spoke, “I don’t know what to do about that, but when the time comes I’ll be the one that handles it.”

“Okay, Sir. That’s your burden to bear,” McBride said. Jake tolerated the NCO’s tone, especially considering he was right, as always.

“What exactly is the plan, Sir?” Bena asked, as he walked behind Big Joe and Jake toward the Army Customs Inspectors’ office.

“We’re going to scope out the office, find a way in, get some customs seals, and leave.” Jake said. He could imagine the thoughts racing through Bena’s and Joe’s minds. Even the best men could be corrupted by money, and Jake’s soldiers were no exception.

“That’s a little broad, Sir,” Bena said.

“I know, Bena, we’re going to fine-tune things when we get there.”

“So your ex-girlfriend is trying to kill you, Sir?” Big Joe asked.

“Someone tried to run me over with a truck, yes,” Jake replied.

“And you think that’s your ex-girlfriend? The nurse from the hospital?” Bena asked.

“It might be her, but I’m not a hundred percent sure,” Jake said.

“Man, I wish someone cared enough about me to want me dead,” Big Joe mused. Jake stifled a laugh at the remark, and reminded himself that Big Joe Eastman lacked any vestige of irony.

“Well Joe, if it makes you feel better, when we get back to the States, I’ll try to kill you a few times,” Bena said, slapping Big Joe on the back. “I’d give anything for my ex-wife to try and kill me,” Bena said. Jake could no longer bite his tongue.

“Bena, why in the world would you want your exwife to murder you?” Jake asked.

“Because I’d kill her first,” Bena replied gleefully, his baby dimples flashing in and out.

“Why not just murder your ex-wife? Why would she have to try killing you first?” Jake asked. It occurred to him that he might be encouraging his soldier to plot a homicide, and against a girl who was probably still a teenager. However, under the current circumstances, Jake didn’t have the moral high ground from which to preach.

“I don’t know, Sir. I just like it better that way,” Bena replied.

“Dude, I’d totally help you kill your whore ex-wife,” Big Joe said.

“Joe, you’re the best.”

Jake had heard enough.

“Guys, could we please focus more on the crime at hand and less on killing ex-wives and each other,” Jake said.

“Yeah, we gotta focus more on the whore trying to kill you instead of killing Bena’s whore,” Big Joe said.

“That’s not exactly what I had in mind, but I guess it’s a step in the right direction,” Jake said.

The customs office was a 10-by 44-foot office trailer encircled by 12-foot Alaska barriers. A break in the barriers was the sole access point to the trailer. The trailer could only be seen from outside the barriers at a certain angle, making it the best possible target for a breaking-andentering job.

Jake tried the trailer doorknob. It was locked, as expected.

“Okay, Sir, now what?” Bena asked.

Jake thought about it for a moment. “Maybe we could get up on the roof and—”

“Sir, maybe the roof is a bad idea. I think the—” Big Joe interrupted.

“Joe, not now, I’m onto something. We get on the roof and we use a multitool to take apart the roof paneling and—”

“Sir, please, the wind—”

“Joe! Just give me a second here. Let’s get up on the roof and get in from there. I think that’s best at least to start.”

Jake looked around for a few moments to find something to boost himself up onto the trailer’s roof, when the door swung open, Big Joe stepped out, and closed the door behind him. Jake was astounded and Bena laughed.

“Got the seals, Sir,” Joe said, holding out a handful of the silvery aluminum customs seals.

“How did you do that?” Jake asked.

“I found a big cardboard box full of them in there; I grabbed like 20. Is that enough?”

“Yeah, Joe, that’ll work. How did you pull it off?”

“Well, I found the box on one of the desks, but it wasn’t really hidden, Sir,”

“No, Joe, how did you get in the building?” Jake asked, marveling at his big ox’s ingenuity.

“I climbed in through that window,” Joe said, motioning toward the window eight feet to the left of the door.

“The window was unlocked?” Jake asked.

“Yeah. I noticed it when we walked up,”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried, Sir,” Big Joe said.

“He did, Sir,” Bena chimed in.

Jake shook his head, and wondered if his soldiers had always pandered to his ego this way.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. They exited the concrete barrier perimeter and headed back to the tents.

“That wasn’t hard at all,” Bena said.

“Who said everything we do has to be difficult?” Jake said. He knew Bena was right; however, getting the customs seals had been easy, too easy.

Had someone given them a clandestine helping hand? If so, who had helped them and why? Jake worried about these complications as they made their way to the tent. In addition, Jake still had the feeling that he was being watched. If Jessica was following him, he was sure that she’d be less inclined to make another attempt on his life with Big Joe and Bena watching his back. But if she’d convinced her new pilot boyfriend to help her out, she could be in two places at once. The thought of Jessica having an ally frightened Jake. You’re always emboldened when you have help. Jake had plenty of experience with these gang-style tactics.