David Baldacci: Zero Day

Puller erased the message. His father would have to wait.

Next stop was CID headquarters.

The CID had been started by General “Black Jack” Pershing in France during World War I. It had become a major Army command in 1971 and was headed up by a one-star. Worldwide, nearly three thousand people were assigned to it, nine hundred of them special agents, like John Puller. It was a centralized stovepipe command structure with the Secretary of the Army at the top and special agents at the bottom, with three layers of bureaucracy in between. It was a lasagna dish with too many noodle beds, Puller thought.

He focused on the SAC. “With an off-post homicide we usually go heavier than a one-man team, sir.”

White said, “I’m trying to get you boots on the ground in West Virginia, but it’s not looking good at this point.”

Puller now asked the question that had been puzzling him ever since learning of the assignment. “The 3rd MP Group has the 1000th Battalion at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. West Virginia is their area of responsibility. They can investigate a colonel’s homicide as well as we can.”

“Murdered man was with the Defense Intelligence Agency. Sensitive slot calls for the ‘quiet professional’ of the 701st.” White smiled at the description often given to the highly trained field investigative personnel of the 701st CID.

Puller didn’t smile back.

White continued. “Fort Campbell. That’s where the 101st is stationed. Your father’s old division, the Screaming Eagles.”

“Long time ago, sir.”

“How’s the old man doing?”

“He’s doing, sir,” Puller replied tersely. He did not care to talk about his father with anyone other than his brother. And even with his brother it was usually only a few sentences at most.

“Right. Good. Anyway, the 701st’s FIUs are the best of the best, Puller. You weren’t assigned here like other MP groups. You were nominated.”

“Understood.” Puller just sat there wondering when the man would get around to telling him something he didn’t know.

White slid a file across the metal desk. “Here’s the prelim. Duty officer took down the initial info. Check with your team leader before you head out. An investigative plan has been formulated, but feel free to ad-lib based on conditions on the ground.”

Puller took the offered file but kept his gaze on the man. “Thumbnail, sir?”

“Dead man was Colonel Matthew Reynolds. As I said, he was with DIA. Stationed at the Pentagon. His local address is in Fairfax City, Virginia.”

“West Virginia connection?”

“Unknown as yet. But he’s been positively identified, so we know it’s him.”

“His duties at DIA? Anything that could connect to this?”

“DIA is notoriously tight-lipped about its people and what they do. But we have learned that Reynolds was in the process of retiring and going into the private sector. If we need to get you read in for purposes of the investigation we’ll do so.”

If? Puller thought.

“What were his official duties at DIA?”

The SAC wriggled a bit in his seat. “He reported directly to the J2’s vice chair.”

“The J2 is a two-star, right? Gives the daily intel briefing to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs?”

“That’s right.”

“Guy like that gets murdered, why isn’t DIA all over this? They have badged investigators?”

“All I can tell you is that the task has fallen to us. Namely, to you.”

“And if we catch the person, does DIA or more likely the FBI get to swoop in and do the perp walk?”

“Not my call.”

“So DIA is sitting this one out?”

“Again, I’m just telling you what I know.”

“Okay, do we know where he was heading to after he left the service?”

White shook his head. “Don’t know yet. You can check directly with Reynolds’s superior at DIA for specifics. A General Julie Carson.”

Puller decided to say it. “Looks like I’ll have to be read in to do the investigative work, sir.”

“We’ll wait and see.”

That answer was nonsensical and Puller noted his SAC didn’t look at him when he said it.

“Any other victims?” he asked.

“Wife, two kids. All dead.”

Puller sat back. “Okay, four dead, probably complicated crime scene in West Virginia with the investigation also extending to DIA. We would normally send out at least four to six people with major tech support on something like this. Even calling up some bodies from USACIL,” he added, referring to the Army’s Criminal Investigation Lab at Fort Gillem in Georgia. “We’d need the manpower just to properly process the evidence. And then another team to hit the DIA angle.”

“I think you just hit on the operative word.”

“What’s that?”

“Normally.”

Puller sat back up. “And normally in an office as large as the 701st I’d be getting my assignment from my team leader, not the SAC, sir.”

“That’s right.” The man did not seem inclined to expand on that response.

Puller dropped his gaze to the file. He was obviously expected to figure this out on his own. “Phone call said slaughterhouse.”

White nodded. “That’s how it was described. Now, I don’t know how many homicides they have out there in West Virginia but I guess it was pretty bloody. Whatever it is, you’ll have seen far worse in the Middle East.”

Puller said nothing to this. Much like the subject of his father, he did not talk about his tours of duty in the desert.

White continued. “The local police are in charge of the investigation since it’s off-installation. It’s rural, and from what I understand they do not have an official homicide detective; uniforms will lead the investigation. Finesse will be called for. We don’t really have grounds for full involvement unless it’s determined the killer was military. And because of Reynolds’s position I want us involved at least on a collateral investigation basis. To do that we need to play nice with the locals.”

“Is there a secure facility in the area where I can store evidence?”

“Homeland Security has a secure site about thirty miles away. Second person stationed there to witness opening and closing the safe. I’ve gotten you authorization.”

“I assume that I can still have access to USACIL?”

“Yes, you can. We also did a quick phone call to West Virginia. They voiced no objection to CID involvement. The Army lawyers can paper it later.”

“Lawyers are good at paper, sir.”

White studied him. “But we’re the Army, so together with finesse the occasional hammer will also be necessary. And I understand that you are equally capable of providing either one.”

Puller said nothing. He’d spent his entire military career dealing with commissioned officers. Some were good, some were idiots. Puller had not made up his mind about this one.

White said, “I’ve only been here a month, got posted here after they moved the operation from Fort Belvoir. Still feeling my way. You’ve been doing this five years.”

“Going on six.”

“Everyone who counts tells me you’re the best we’ve got, if a little unorthodox.” He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his desk. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that there’s a lot of interest from up top on this one, Puller. I’m talking past even the Secretary of the Army and on to the civilian corridors in D.C.”

“Understood. But I’ve investigated cases involving Defense Intelligence that were handled within normal parameters. If there is that much interest at those levels, Colonel Reynolds must’ve had some extra juice in his post at the Pentagon.” He paused. “Or maybe more dirt.”

White smiled. “Maybe you are as good as advertised.”