Chapter 30
CORPORAL NIMITZ SNAPPED A SALUTE as the two CID agents approached the barracks. They returned the salute, and Brodie asked, “Anyone in or out?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you have someone at the other door?”
“Yes, sir. Corporal Rivera.”
“Good. As you were.”
They entered the barracks, which apparently were being guarded by two of Camp Hayden’s seven MPs.
That left five others for the armory, the Vault, the brig, the admin building, and the two gates.
Never mind the guard towers. Colonel Howe was trying to create the illusion of control, but that’s all it was.
Someone had cleaned up the cans of energy drinks and beer from the desk in the lobby. They took the stairs up to the third floor. All of the hallway doors were closed. They heard no talking, only the faint sounds of music or TV coming from the rooms.
They approached the door to Room 3H, and Brodie noticed a plastic tray on the floor with a metal covering.
Must have been lunch delivered by the mess.
Brodie lifted the cover. A burger and fries, and a pile of steamed vegetables.
Completely untouched. He looked down the hall and noted that no other doors had food sitting outside.
Brodie knocked. “Private Greer! This is Scott Brodie and Maggie Taylor, CID.”
No immediate answer, and Brodie didn’t wait before opening the door.
Directly ahead of them was an open window. Brodie ran to it and leaned out. If Greer had jumped, he’d walked away from the fall. Then Brodie spotted a drainpipe about three feet to the right of the window. He must have shimmied down.
Brodie took out his walkie and switched to Channel 2. “Brodie for Sergeant Mendez. Over.”
In a moment the walkie crackled: “Yes, sir. Mendez here. Over.”
“Your people need to do a room check and a head count at the barracks. We have at least one AWOL. PFC Greer. Climbed out his window. Over.”
“Yes, sir. Roger, wilco. And we’ll sweep the camp. No activity at the gates, so he can’t have gone far. Over.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. Over and out.”
Taylor looked out the window. “Why the hell would he do that?”
“Fear,” said Brodie. “Or guilt.”
“Bucky didn’t shoot him. Why? Was it something about Bucky, or something about Greer?”
“No clue. So let’s get one.” He walked to the door.
“Where?”
“Bucky’s scrap metal and Greer’s AWOL. That leaves Miller.”