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your butt is on a cargo plane out of here. And just to make sure you don’t come snooping back around on your own time, your next assignment will be overseas, starting tomorrow. Got a couple of unsolved murders on two different bases, one in Germany and one in South Korea. Army hasn’t decided yet which one you’ll be assigned to. My vote would be Korea, and my vote will carry great weight.”
Puller took all this in but didn’t immediately respond. They had him boxed in and both he and they knew it. “Why me?” he said finally. “You’ve got lots of resources at your fingertips. CID. Military Intelligence. You don’t need me.”
Rinehart responded, “On the surface a fair and accurate statement, Puller. But you have something none of those resources have.”
Puller thought he knew the answer but waited patiently for the man to deliver it.
Rinehart said, “You’re his brother. You grew up together. You both served together, albeit in different branches. We know of his assisting you on that investigation in West Virginia. We know you visited him frequently at DB. We know you two talk on the phone. You know him better than anyone else. So we think that you have the best shot to bring him in.”
“Alive,” said Puller.
“Absolutely.”
“If I say yes to your offer, when can I start my investigation?”
“Immediately.”
“No strings attached? No conditions?”
“Other than the one stated, that you report to us.”
“And what about the other people investigating this? You can’t stop them from doing their jobs. There’s no way they’ll leave this case to one CID agent.”
“You’ll just have to work around them. We’ll leave it up to you.”
“And no help from you on that point?”
“We’ll see what we can do. But that ball will largely fall in your court, Puller.”
“And my CO?”
Schindler said, “You’ll get a written directive from him confirming this, of course, with all necessary authorizations. We don’t expect you to take it on faith.”
“Okay, I accept. And I’ll begin my investigation by interviewing all of you.”
The three men exchanged glances and then together looked back at Puller.
Schindler said, “We have nothing to do with this case other than the national security interest in bringing Robert Puller back to prison.”
“You said no strings and no conditions other than the one stated. Are you walking that back now?”
“No, but—”
“Because I am a trained investigator and my training and experience have shown that someone may think they have no valuable information to share, but they actually do. But unless I ask the questions and get the answers, that information never comes to light.”
Schindler slowly nodded. “Okay, what do you want to know?”
“You said this was a national security case. Why?”
“You know what your brother was involved in with the Air Force?”
“STRATCOM.”
“That’s right. The United States Strategic Command. It used to be limited to nuclear defense. Now its mission covers space operations, missile defense, cyber and information warfare, WMDs, global command and control, surveillance, reconnaissance, global strike, the list goes on and on. I can’t think of another military command more important to this country. Your brother worked both at the Missile Correlation Center in Cheyenne Mountain and also at STRATCOM’s HQ at Offutt Air Force Base in Nebraska.”
“I knew all that, sir. I’d actually visited my brother when he worked at STRATCOM at Offutt. But then he was assigned to a satellite office here in Leavenworth, right?” said Puller.
Daughtrey nodded. “STRATCOM outgrew its footprint at Offutt. The new facility won’t be completely ready for a few more years. Leavenworth was one of many farm-out locations. But everything was wired back to HQ.”
“I understand,” said Puller.
Daughtrey added, “There was virtually no aspect of Strategic Command that he didn’t have his fingers in. He was one of the most brilliant people they’ve ever had. The sky was the limit for him. Literally. He was being groomed to head up the whole damn thing at some point. He was just getting his next promotion lined up when everything blew up.”
Puller asked, “I know you’re with STRATCOM. Did you work with him?”
Daughtrey shook his head. “I was assigned to STRATCOM after your brother was sent to DB. The assessment I just gave was one based on all who knew and worked with him. To a person, soldier and contractor, he was one of the best.”
“I don’t doubt it,” said Puller. “He was at the top of every class. From high school to the Air Force Academy and beyond.”
Schindler said, “Except for the little matter of treason. Let’s not forget that.”
“I haven’t forgotten it,” said Puller, turning his gaze to the suit. “And I’m pretty sure my brother hasn’t. But what does his old job have to do with anything?”
Rinehart said, “Since he’s only been gone for less than three years, Puller, much of the top secret data that rests in his head is still viable and important. The security codes and such have changed, of course. But the underlying technology, strategies, and tactics are the same. You know the military way. We finally get everyone to agree on something and Congress has to allocate the money. Everyone jockeys for their piece, the uniforms for their slice of the command and subsequent promotions, and the contractors for their share of the dollars. Once that is all set, the years-long process of implementation and execution begins. We are many things, but nimble is not one of them. It’s like changing course on a Nimitz-class carrier using a handheld rudder: It takes time. So, many of the projects your brother was connected with are still being implemented or are in operation right now. He has intimate and detailed knowledge of some of this country’s most important security programs that in turn deal with some of the most critical challenges we have.”
Puller considered all of this and said, “So he would be very valuable to enemies of this country.”
“Without question,” said Rinehart.
Puller looked at each man and said, “So maybe he didn’t break out.”
Schindler looked confused, an expression he shared with his two colleagues. “I don’t quite get what you’re saying, Puller. He did break out. He’s gone.”
“I’m not saying he’s not gone from DB.”
“Then what are you saying?” asked Schindler as he tapped his index finger impatiently against the table.
“That the whole thing at DB was staged, and instead of him breaking out, he might have been kidnapped by enemies of this country.”
CHAPTER
10
QUARTERS.
Even now Robert Puller couldn’t refer to it as a room, or an apartment, or a flat. It was quarters. Military vernacular was drilled into the minds of those in uniform like fingers marking letters in wet concrete that dried to permanency.
His “quarters” was a motel room on the outskirts of Kansas City, Kansas. He had left Leavenworth behind for no other reason than—
I could.
It was a right-angle drive, hands twelve and three on the clock, meaning straight south and then straight east on I-70, the two perfectly equal legs of a right triangle, only awaiting the hypotenuse to complete it, which he might, taking an alternate but no less straight and direct route back to Leavenworth, if necessary. He had always framed things that way, with a reference to math or science or an adjunct of either one, placing them into a perspective that amused some, bewildered others, but was off-putting to most, he had found.
And which bothered him not at all.
