Дэвид Балдаччи - Daylight

“Yes, but why do you ask?”

“I’d like to see them.”

“Again, why? The case is over.”

“Not for me it’s not. Their photos? Please? It’s really important.”

“You really think Puller getting shot was tied to these guys?”

“I think the connection is obvious.”

The man opened his desk drawer, pulled out a bulky case file, and spun it around. The mug shots of Danforth and Cassidy stared up at her.

“Feel free to take their pictures.”

Pine did so with her iPhone. “Surprised you let me do that.”

“Ma’am, this is a clusterfuck, and in an ideal world these two pricks should be doing hard time courtesy of the United States Army. So if you can nail their sorry asses to the wall it’s fine by me.”

“Thanks,” said Pine as she walked out.

Danforth and Cassidy were indeed in the motor pool, although as Pine observed from a distance, they didn’t appear to be getting much work done. Both were on their phones, texting.

She didn’t confront them there.

She simply followed them when they left the base after their shift was over.

They drove together to a military dive bar about two miles from Fort Dix. They went in and she followed. The pair had found a table in the fairly crowded place.

The bar was called the Bunker. Unlike its name, the Bunker was large, open, and airy. Flags from all service branches hung over the walls. Helmets were mounted like trophy animals, along with ceremonial sabers, bayonets, and weaponry of all makes and sizes. Some couples in uniform were slow-dancing in the middle of the room to jukebox music. All bar seats were occupied, with most of the patrons draped in Army green.

Pine was one of the few not in uniform.

She eyed the pair and headed for their table after a waitress brought their longneck beers. She sat down next to Danforth, glanced at him, and then eyed Cassidy.

Danforth was big and beefy, and his expression was, to Pine, brainless.

Cassidy was small and cagey-looking, and he shot suspicious looks at her.

“Uh, don’t remember inviting you to our private party, sweet cheeks,” said Cassidy.

Danforth let out an inane belly laugh.

Pine shot him a look. “You really thought that was funny?”

Danforth clamped his mouth shut and scowled at her.

“So, Article 15, huh?” she said.

“Who the hell are you, lady?” snapped Cassidy while Danforth took a swig of his Bud.

“An interested party. Did you know your buddy Jeff Sands got his head blown off in New York the other night?”

Both men gave a visceral reaction to this. Cassidy composed himself and said, “Don’t know who that is.”

“Yeah, right. Like you don’t know who Tony Vincenzo is, or Lindsey Axilrod? Did you wonder why Sheila Weathers didn’t come back to work? She’s dead, too. Also in New York.”

Danforth shot Cassidy a worried glance, but the latter shook his head.

“We don’t know what or who you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do, Phil. And so does your buddy here, because he looks like he’s about to crap his pants.”

Danforth grabbed Pine by the shoulder. “Look, you just need to shut up, bit—”

He stopped and looked at the badge she had just flashed him. Danforth slowly released his grip.

Cassidy said, “You’re FBI? You got no jurisdiction over us. We’re soldiers.”

“I’ll say this one time, dumbass. So long as you’re in this country, I have every jurisdiction over you.”

“But we got the deal from the Army. You can’t touch us now. It’s that double jeopardy thing.” He looked triumphantly at her.

“Double jeopardy doesn’t apply between military and civilian prosecutions. The Army cutting a deal with you has no impact on the FBI going after you. The only difference is you’ll be spending your time at a max prison nowhere near here.”

“Shit, are you serious?”

“Google it, if that’ll make you feel better.”

“Well, son of a bitch.”

“That sucks,” added Danforth, pounding the table with his huge fist.

She looked at their beers. “If I were you, I’d drink up. What I’m about to tell you will go down better with a little buzz.”

“You’re making no damn sense, lady,” said Cassidy, but he downed his beer, as did Danforth, who wiped his face with a meaty palm.

When the empty bottles smacked the table, Pine leaned in and started speaking earnestly. “The CID agent who nailed you?”

“Puller?”

“Yeah. He also was shot up in New York when Sands bought it. He just got out of surgery.”

“So? Why should we care?” said Cassidy, but he didn’t look as confident as his words sounded.

“Do you know what Puller told me a few minutes before he got shot?”

“What?” This came from Danforth, who looked like he could use another beer.

“He said that he had to make sure you two were kept locked up and away from everybody.”

“Why’s that?” asked Danforth, sweat beads suddenly lining his wide forehead.

Pine looked shrewdly at Cassidy. “You want to answer your buddy? Because I think you know what I’m going to say.”

“You’re saying he wanted us in the stockade... for our protection?” said Cassidy.

She nodded.

“That’s bullshit,” barked Cassidy.

“Really? Let me ask you something. You two were caught dead to rights on drug dealing. I talked to the JAG. Ironclad case. No-brainer, slam dunk. CO’s on your ass. You’re both being court-martialed and sent to Leavenworth. Then, out of nowhere, you get an Article 15. The JAG said he’d never heard of such a thing. What do you think about that?”

Danforth eyed Cassidy. “Phil, you said it was ’cause we got friends in high places.”

“Shut the hell up, Billy,” barked Cassidy.

He looked at Pine, who said, “Or maybe you got the ‘get out of jail free card’ because you have enemies in high places.”

“Are Jeff and Shelia really dead?”

“Then you do know them?”

“I asked you a question.”

Pine took out her phone and scrolled through it. “Here’s an email I got from NYPD on Jeff Sands.” She showed it to him. “And here’s another on Sheila. They’re both dead. I saw their bodies.”

Cassidy read the emails and sat back looking worried.

Danforth said, “What’s this all about, Phil? What’s she trying to say with all this crap?”

Pine turned to him. “What I’m trying to say is someone is cleaning house and you two are on the to-do list. That’s the only reason you got the Article 15 and a suspended sentence on your detention. So instead of being in the stockade surrounded by John Puller’s handpicked guards, you’re out here as sitting ducks.”

“You’re saying we got sprung so they could pop us?” This came from Cassidy, who had forehead sweat bubbles of his own now.

“You know Vincenzo’s old man, Teddy?”

“No, but Tony told us about him. He’s squirreled away at Fort Dix Pen on a long ride.”

“He was . Puller and I went to talk to him. All official and everything. Just as he was about to tell us something, they came and got him. No explanation, no nothing. Then before we knew it, he ended up dead in his cell. They say it was an overdose, though the guy wasn’t a user. I’m thinking that they decided three prisoner deaths at the Fort Dix facility might arouse suspicion. So, you two got set free, and you’ll come to the end of your lives on the other side of the bars. You see it any other way?”

Cassidy hunched forward and spoke in a low voice. “Let’s assume all you say is true. What can you do about it?”

“I’m FBI. I can protect you. But this is a quid pro quo situation. I need something in return. Otherwise, you’re on your own.”