Дэвид Балдаччи - The Escape

“Where are you now?”

“Kansas.”

There was a long moment of silence. Puller could almost hear her mind sorting through things and compiling data, with a conclusion soon forthcoming.

“DB,” she said.

“DB’s here, all right.”

“A little surprised you are,” she said warily, as though she were being wiretapped and suspected a legal trap.

“I was too. But it’s all official and authorized.”

She said in an incredulous tone, “You’re not saying you’re investigating the escape?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Get off it! You’re shitting me.”

“No.”

“Has the Army lost its damn mind?”

“I can’t really answer that.”

“Then have you lost your mind?”

“I hope not.”

“Well, I hope your authorizations go about as high as they can go, otherwise I might be prosecuting you for about a dozen violations of military law, Puller.”

“I wouldn’t be here if they didn’t, Shireen.”

“In writing. Sometimes a CO’s memory sucks when the shit hits the fan.”

“Got ’em in writing. Army three-star and the NSC with trickle down the chain of command to my CO good enough for you?”

“Well sonofabitch, will wonders never cease? Why are you calling? If you’re in Kansas it’s too far to catch a beer together.”

“I’m calling about my brother.”

“What would I know about your brother? Other than he’s apparently escaped from DB? And you’re there, apparently investigating a crime you shouldn’t be within a continent of?”

“That word ‘apparently’ again.”

“What about it?”

“You’re not the first to use it when talking about what happened.”

“Well of course, Puller. Think about it. People don’t escape from DB. And do you believe for one second the Army wants to admit to something like that? The bigwigs are probably still praying he got stuck in a ventilation hole and it was all a big misunderstanding.”

“So my brother?”

She said nothing, but Puller could hear papers rustling and thought he detected the sound of a pen clicking. She seemed prepared to take notes. Whether this was a good thing or not, he wasn’t sure.

“I need to find out about his case.”

“His case?” she said.

“His court-martial.”

“Find out what?”

“Basically everything.”

“You don’t already know about it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It was sealed. I’m assuming because of the issues involved.”

“National security,” she said, and Puller could imagine her head nodding and her perhaps frowning at this. He had found that Shireen Kirk did not like secrets on either end of a case. They were a lot alike in that regard.

“Right. But why do you need to know about his case?”

“I’m trying to find him. If I knew what he went to DB for it might generate some leads for me.”

He hoped the late hour had reduced the efficiency of her bullshit meter.

“O-kay,” she said slowly, skepticism oozing from both syllables.

“I think you’d agree that breaking out of DB is pretty remarkable.”

“I think we can agree on that.”

“And maybe he had help to do it.”

“So you think whoever he was involved with before helped him escape?”

“It’s a theory.”

“He’s been at DB for how long?”

“Over two years.”

“Long time to wait to bust somebody out.”

“Not really. Not if you have to acquire the tools with which to do so.”

“Inside help, you mean?”

“That wouldn’t come easily or cheaply. At least I hope it wouldn’t, since it might implicate folks in uniform.”

“Well, if the file is sealed, I’m not sure there’s much I can do. And if you’ve been authorized to investigate this case you should be able to get it unsealed going through appropriate channels.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But right now I prefer not to employ proper channels. And I was thinking that you might know people who could unseal it.”

“That would take a court order, Puller,” she said sharply. “Because it would have taken a court order to seal it.”

“Well, I remember from high school science class that for every action there’s an equal and opposite reaction.”

“Yeah, and I remember from law school that a fool and her license to practice are soon parted.”

“I’m not asking you to do anything unethical, Shireen, because I know you wouldn’t. All I’m asking is for you to just see if there’s any way I can find out about the case. Something I can read. Someone I can talk to. Anything is more than I have right now. The military never throws anything away. There has to be some record of it somewhere.”

There was another pause and Puller started to wonder if she had hung up.

“Shireen?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here. I’m just taking a minute to pull my head out of my ass for even contemplating helping you.”

“But you are contemplating?” noted Puller hopefully.

“I’ll make some calls. Anything comes of it, you’ll hear from me. If nothing comes of it, you won’t. Good enough?”

“Good enough. Thanks, Shireen.”

“Don’t thank me. This shit stinks so bad it’s a wonder you’re still breathing.”

“I know it’s out of the ordinary.”

“It’s not just out of the ordinary, it’s unthinkable. Letting you work on this case violates every rule the Army has. And you better get your head out of your ass and wonder why they’re really letting you do it. Because I can’t think of a single reason that would benefit you , three-star and NSC approvals notwithstanding.”

She clicked off and Puller put his phone back in his pocket.

He wasn’t a lawyer, but he had spent enough time around them to know that they could smell a problem and potential downside from the other side of the world. They definitely looked at the glass half-empty. And right now, maybe he should too.

Why do they really want me on this case?

Schindler, Daughtrey, and Rinehart had given him reasons for it. They seemed sound and plausible. But after what Shireen had just said they didn’t seem that sound or that plausible. And now Daughtrey was dead.

He was still thinking about this when he heard the woman scream.

HIS HAND AUTOMATICALLY dipped to his holster and Puller slid out his M11.

It had been a female screaming, no doubt about that. He hustled to the room’s single window and peered out. Four figures were there. There were three men and one woman, the one who had screamed. He wasn’t speculating. She was screaming right now.

He eyed the men. He couldn’t see their faces. The exterior lighting was poor and their backs were turned to him. He could see that two were roughly his size. The other was smallish. The woman was the smallest of them all. And a hand was around her throat as she was being dragged down the stairs.

Puller punched 911 on his phone and reported what he had just seen. Then he threw open the door and stepped out in time to see the group disappearing into an alleyway next to the motel.

He slipped quietly down the stairs, his M11 leading the way, and then sprinted across the courtyard. He stopped at the entrance to the alley and peered around the corner. Farther down the darkened alley he heard the woman scream. And he heard struggling.

There must be another exit from the alley. They might have a car waiting there. He picked up his pace.

And then he was sprawling on the pavement, his gun flying from his grip.

He rolled over and looked up. The three men looked back down at him. They were wearing ski masks. The woman was nowhere around.