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She heard the snicker, turned to glare at Peabody. "What are you grinning at?"
"It's your way with words, sir. I do so admire your way with words."
Eve dropped into her chair again, leaned back. "Peabody, we've been working together long enough for me to know when you're gassing me."
"Oh. Is that also long enough for you to appreciate our personal rapport?"
"No."
To help put the Branson matter out of her mind for the moment, Eve squeezed the heels of her hands on either side of her head. "Okay, back to priorities. Run the vans while I see how much McNab's shaken loose on Fixer's military record. And why don't I have any coffee?"
"I was just wondering the same thing." To avoid another snarl, Peabody hurried into the kitchen.
"McNab," Eve said the minute she had him onscreen. "Gimme."
"Just got the basic front stuff for now. I'm weaving through." He recognized the view out the window behind her and pouted. "Hey, you working at home today? How come I'm not there, too?"
"Because, thank God, you don't live here. Now, let's have it."
"I'll shoot it to your home unit, but the quick rundown is as follows. Bassi, Colonel Howard. Retired. Enlisted in 1997, enrolled officer's training. Top scores. As a first lieutenant, he worked with STF—Special Training Forces. Elite, real hush-hush stuff. I'm working on that, but at this point, I'm just getting commendations—he had a hat full—and remarks about his expertise with electronics and explosives. He made captain in 2006, then worked his way right up the ranks until he was given a field promotion to full colonel during the Urban Wars."
"Where was he stationed? New York?"
"Yeah, then he was transferred to East Washington in…wait, I've got it. 2021. Had to put in for a special family transfer package because most military weren't allowed to take their families along during that period."
"Family?" She held up a hand. "What family?"
"Ah…military records have him down for a wife Nancy, civilian, and two kids, one of each. He got the transfer because his spouse was a civilian liaison between army and media. Like, you know, public relations."
"Hell." Eve rubbed her eyes. "Run the wife and kids, McNab."
"Sure, they're on the list to do."
"No, now. You've got the ID numbers there." She glanced over as Peabody brought in coffee. "Do a quick run on date of death."
"Shit, they're not old," McNab muttered, but he turned away to check the records. "Man, Dallas, they all bought it. Same DOD."
"September 25, 2023, Arlington County, Virginia."
"Yeah." He let out a sigh. "They must have been taken out with the Pentagon. Christ, Dallas, the kids were only six and eight. That bites."
"Yeah, I'm sure Fixer agreed with you. Now we know why he turned."
And, she thought, why he ran. How could he expect to be safe, even in his dirty little fortress, if he was up against the kind of people who could wipe out the most secure military establishment in the country?
"Keep up the search," she ordered. "See if you can find anybody he worked with who's still around and no longer military. Somebody who got transferred with him, in his same unit. If he was STF, he probably had some part in dealing with Apollo."
"I'm on it. Hey, Peabody." He wiggled his brows when she came into view, and sliding his hand under his bright pink shirt mimed a thumping heart.
"Asshole," she muttered and stepped aside.
Scowling, Eve cut him off. "Roarke thinks he's got a thing for you."
"He's got a thing for breasts," Peabody corrected. "I happen to have a pair. I caught him eyeballing Sheila's from Records, and hers aren't as good as mine."
Thoughtfully, Eve glanced down at her own. "He doesn't look at my tits."
"Yes, he does, but he's careful because he fears you nearly as much as he fears Roarke."
