Дэвид Балдаччи - The Escape

“Now do it in slow motion.”

She did so and Puller started to count, jotting down numbers in his notebook. He had her back up the video and repeat the process twice. When he’d finished, he said, “Okay, let’s see the exit.”

She brought this footage up and then hit the computer keys to make it move forward slowly. She watched as Puller started to count again. He had her repeat the video as he had done before. And he wrote down more numbers. When he was done she stopped the feed and sat back, looking at him expectantly.

“Well?” she asked.

“Fort Leavenworth dialed up an entire company of MPs to take control of DB. They came in six heavy trucks. Four platoons, totaling one hundred and thirty-two men, and the leadership component, a captain and his first sergeant.”

“Okay?”

“The six drivers stayed with the vehicles, but I counted one hundred and thirty-three men in riot gear getting off those trucks. Plus the captain and the first sergeant.”

“So one hundred and thirty-five men in total.”

“When there should have been only one hundred and thirty-four.”

“So one extra?”

“And I counted one hundred and thirty-five men coming out of the prison in riot gear. They climbed into those trucks and drove off.”

“So the numbers tally? But we still have the extra guy.”

“But what if the dead man was one of the platoon members going in ?”

She shot him an astonished look. “What?”

“The strap marks on the body? The ones on his arms I think were from hard-shell forearm and elbow protectors. And the parallel marks on the calves were from the straps on the shin guards.”

“But, Puller, that’s riot gear.”

He nodded. “The same gear we just saw on the video feed. That means our dead guy might have been part of the reinforcements sent from Fort Leavenworth.”

“But obviously he didn’t come back out.”

Puller observed, “But we have the same number of soldiers coming out as went in. What does that tell you?”

Knox thought about this for a few moments, then her eyes widened. “Shit, your brother took his place?”

Puller nodded. “He could have broken that guy’s neck, dressed as him, and escaped that way, as part of the MP reinforcements. It was dark, chaotic. They wouldn’t do an ID check on a guy in full riot gear. So he climbs back on one of the trucks, which returns to the fort. Four platoons of soldiers climb off, go their separate ways, and he just scoots off the base.”

She looked at him, obviously impressed. “Puller, that is some damn fine deducing. I never would have picked up on the number of MPs going in and out.”

Puller looked thoughtful. “But it would be difficult to do all that in the dark. Remember, no lights in the prison. My brother would have to kill a guy who was armed and probably armored without anyone seeing or hearing anything. Then he had to get all that gear off the body and then put it on, all in the dark. Lots of potential holes in that theory.”

“There was also lots of noise to cover up anything they were doing. The dead guy no doubt had a flashlight in his gear pack. If the cell door was closed, or his team saw him clearing that cell, there would have been no need for anyone else to go in. I think you figured out how it all went down.”

Puller didn’t respond to this.

Knox, who had been tensed, relaxed. “Look, I know this must be really hard for you.”

“Why, because he’s my brother?”

“No, because he’s your sister. Of course because he’s your brother! ”

“You’re wrong. He’s not my brother. Right now, he’s just an escaped prisoner who may or may not have been involved in the murder of an unidentified person.”

“Well, I think you just answered one really big question. How he got out.”

“Yeah. And created about a dozen more.”

PULLER WAS DRIVING and Knox sat beside him staring moodily out the window.

“How did you think of the manner in which the neck was broken?” she asked, turning to him. “A horizontal break? You showed the ME how it could be done.”

“The snap-crackle-pop. At least that’s what we call it. It’s a technique they teach in the Rangers and the Marine Corps. It’s used to quickly kill, typically perimeter security of a target you’re trying to take. Hand and forearm cups the top of the head. Other hand and forearm rests at the base of the neck. You apply the requisite foot-pounds of force in separate directions, the neck snaps right in two. Clean and quick and silent.”

“But they don’t teach that in the Air Force?”

“I don’t know what they teach in the Air Force other than to tell their people not to jump out of a perfectly good plane. They leave that to us grunts toting rifles and eighty-pound rucks.”

“Okay, but did you by chance teach your brother the maneuver?”

Now Puller glanced at her. “Are you interrogating me?”

“No, just asking a simple question.”

“I don’t remember. That’s my simple answer.”

She glanced once more out the window. “Looks like a storm is rolling in,” she observed.

“Then maybe we’ll have another blackout and another prison escape,” retorted Puller.

She shot him a glance. “Don’t even joke about something like that.”

“We need to ID that guy.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t want to wait however long it’s going to take the guys in Dover to do it. And since I don’t think he’s an American, they probably won’t find anything anyway.”

“And the ME said he didn’t get a hit in the military database off the prints or facial recognition. So it’s doubtful he’s military.”

“At least not our military. Which leads to another question.”

“What’s that?”

“Four platoons.”

“Right, but now we think your brother might have taken the dead guy’s place. After killing him,” she tacked on, perhaps just to see Puller’s reaction.

He ignored this. “How did the dead guy get into Fort Leavenworth? And how did he manage to join a company of soldiers going to quell a possible crisis at DB?”

“Well, he must’ve gotten onto the base somehow. And it was chaotic. If he was dressed in riot gear I doubt anyone took the time to do roll call.”

“Which means this all was planned out, Knox. The transformers blowing. The backup gas generator breaking down. The sounds of explosion and gunfire. The Army manual is clear on that. You call in reinforcements. Whoever planned this, they knew how the Army would react and they had a guy at Leavenworth ready to join in.”

“But why, Puller? What was he going to accomplish?”

“Helping my brother to escape, maybe?”

“But the guy ended up dead.”

Puller said, “Maybe the plan changed. Maybe someone else other than my brother killed him.”

“How was he planning on getting your brother out? There’s no evidence that he had a second set of riot gear with him. Your brother probably took his gear. In fact, that’s the only way he could have gotten out. So, the guy had to die. And they were about the same size.” She looked at Puller. “Your brother’s about six-three? About two hundred pounds or so?”

“Around that.”

“So was the dead guy.”

“But why go in on a mission like that if you know it’s suicidal?”

“Maybe he didn’t know it was suicidal,” replied Knox.

“Well, if he didn’t then he had to believe he was going in there for some reason that had the possibility of him getting out alive. And we have to find out who came and took those transformers.” He eyed her pointedly when he said this. “That’s what started this whole chain of events. The transformers blowing.”