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“Any recent departures?” asked Knox.

McCutcheon again turned to the screen. A few clicks later he said, “One from Croatia left the day of the incident at DB. He’s the only recent one.”

“Croatia?” said Puller.

“The country’s a member of NATO, and since last year, it’s also part of the EU. And Croatia sent troops to Afghanistan. They’re our ally in a troublesome region. So one of the bennies they get for that is to come here and learn from the best. Their military is underfunded and their equipment and personnel are not in the best shape. So we’re helping them.”

“And the Croatian’s name?”

“Ivo Mesic.”

“How long was he here?”

“A month.”

“You know him by sight?”

McCutcheon nodded. “I’ve met him a few times. Had a beer with him. Seemed like a real nice guy.”

Puller took a photo from his pocket and showed it to the sergeant major. “And this is not him?” It was a photo of the dead man back at Fort Leavenworth’s morgue.

“No, that’s definitely not him.”

“He’d presumably be in the database at the fort,” said Knox. “Which means we would’ve gotten a ping if the dead guy had been in it.”

McCutcheon nodded. “Absolutely. Full background check conducted and everything. Foreign military personnel are given access credentials. They’re not at the level of a CAC,” he said, referring to the military’s Common Access Card, “but they’re issued for people who have a regular recurring requirement to access the post. As Mesic did.”

“So he could come in the Hancock or Sherman gates and not the main gate?” said Puller.

“That’s right. DoD ID lane.”

“And do we know that Mesic made it back to Croatia?” asked Knox.

“I don’t know the answer to that, but I can find out.” He pointed at the photo. “But that is definitely not him.” He spun his computer around so they could see the screen. There was a picture of a man on it.

“That’s Ivo Mesic.”

Puller read down the file information and nodded.

Knox said, “Definitely not our guy. And the file says he’s in his fifties.”

“He held the rank of colonel in the Croatian army,” said McCutcheon.

“Was his departure date scheduled well in advance?” asked Knox.

McCutcheon looked at his computer screen. “They all are, but now that you ask, he left a few days early. File says he received orders to return.”

“What day was that?”

“The day he left.”

“So right before the incident at DB?” said Puller.

“That’s right, Chief.”

Puller and Knox exchanged a significant glance.

“How did he leave?” asked Puller.

“Come again?”

“Was he driven off to the airport or did he have his own ride?”

“Oh, he had a rental.”

Knox said, “Presumably we can check and see if it was turned back in.”

“But the dead guy isn’t Mesic,” said McCutcheon. “So what’s the point of pursuing him?”

Puller eyed him. “When you clear a house in Kabul looking for the enemy, how many rooms do you check?”

“All of them, of course, Chief Puller,” answered McCutcheon immediately.

“Same principle in my line of work, Sergeant Major,” said Puller.

CHAPTER

25

PULLER AND KNOX were standing at the entrance to the Sherman Gate into Fort Leavenworth. They had already been to the Hancock Gate and had struck out. Mesic had not left that way. However, the two guards stationed at the Sherman Gate well remembered the Croatian officer.

The first guard said, “He wasn’t looking too happy. When I asked him what was the matter he said he was sorry to be going. He liked it here.”

“Why did he talk to you at all?” asked Puller. “He had an access cred. He could have flashed it and driven on.”

“He could have,” said the second guard. “But we’d seen him around the base. Even played some pool with him at one of the local bars. He was a nice guy. So he stopped his car and talked for a bit. There wasn’t anyone behind him. Light traffic that time of the day.”

Knox said, “What exactly was the time?”

The first guard’s brow furrowed. “I’d say around twenty hundred hours. Most people who were leaving the post were already gone. Everybody else had finished chow time and were probably back in quarters. He said he had a flight to catch out of KC. He’d be back in Croatia after a few stops in between. At least that’s what he said.”

“No nonstops between KC and Zagreb,” said the other guard, grinning. “He was an okay dude, never had a problem with him,” he added.

“Anything out of the ordinary strike you when he was leaving?” asked Puller.

“What do you mean?” asked the first guard.

“Something odd,” added Knox.

“No, nothing odd. I mean, he pulled his usual.”

“What was his usual?” asked Puller.

“He forgot something,” said the first guard. “He was always forgetting stuff.”

“And what did he do when he forgot stuff?” asked Knox.

“He’d come hightailing it back here,” said the second guard who cracked a smile.

“And he forgot something that night?” asked Puller.

“His passport of all things,” said the first guard. “He looked like he was going to throw up. He’s not getting out of the country without his passport, right?”

“And you let him back in?” said Knox.

“Sure. He had his access pass.”

“How far had he gone before he turned around and came back?” asked Puller.

The first guard looked down the road a bit. “Probably around the curve.” He paused and stroked his chin with his fingers. “I mean, he was out of sight. I don’t remember seeing him until he came tearing back in here. Said he’d forgotten his passport. Had left it in his quarters. He went back in to get it.”

Puller looked down the road where it curved. Any car turning the curve would be out of sight of the post’s entrance.

“You didn’t search his car, either in or out?” asked Puller.

“No. Vehicles without creds get searched at the Grant Gate at Metro and Seventh. Not here. The main gate is where they do the searches. Most people with CACs don’t use the main gate.”

“And when he came back out the second time that was the last you saw of him?”

“Yep,” said the first guard, and his mate nodded in agreement.

“Thanks,” said Puller, and he started walking off down the road toward the curve.

The guards looked at Knox curiously. “So what is all this about?” asked the second guard.

“When we figure it out you definitely won’t be the ones we tell,” she said, and hurried after Puller.

She caught up to him about a hundred feet later and their long legs ate up the distance between them and the curve.

“So what do you think, Puller?” she asked.

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