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TWELVE
Garrison
As it turned out,military bases were the furthest thing from impenetrable, especially with the right props. Blaze had tracked the points outside of the usual guard gates to find me a practical entrance, and it was as easy as cruising through it on my borrowed motorcycle and turning off one of the tracked vehicle trails and onto the main road. With a helmet, a set of cammies, and an ID badge our computer guru had doctored for me, I fit right in.
Talon and Julius had explained that though it was technically a marine base, many army guys were stationed here for jobs, and the general’s office was in one of the administration buildings, likely tucked behind the offices of a few other higher-ups. I’d impersonated military staff before, but they’d given me plenty of tips to ensure I was prepared to breach the upper echelon.
Blaze had found a variety of interesting information about the Blood Hunter’s military corruption in the files he’d found during our airfield takedown. Most interesting was the fact that a general stationed on this base appeared to be one of the crime lord’s main contacts. It looked like the prick might be responsible for organizing squads like the one Julius’s former colleague was part of.
And now we were going to undermine that connection just as we had the Blood Hunter’s slave trade. I was going to get into that office, grab whatever classified files I could put my hands on that we could use as leverage, and get out. Then we’d see whether Mr. Top Brass cared more about the financial benefits the Blood Hunter had offered him or the country he’d sworn to serve.
For the first time in weeks, I felt totally confident about the job ahead. I knew that I could do this. I wasn’t the weak link. I’d let down my walls with the people who meant the most to me, and the world hadn’t crashed down on my head. With the security generated by my new sense of inner peace, I could tackle anyone. Be anything.
All because I could be myself with Dess.
I rode through the on-base streets that didn’t look so different from regular streets in the city I’d left behind a hundred miles distant. The traffic was just as bad as the traffic off-base, and the drivers all seemed normal other than the uniforms. The rank insignia on my own, chosen with care, placed me just a couple of levels below the general himself in authority. No regular soldier was going to question me.
Keeping up my persona of domineering authority, I pulled into one of the admissions lots next to the two-story building that should have housed the general’s office. I removed my helmet carefully so as not to dislodge my wig of military-short ruddy hair, nudged my prescription-less glasses up my nose, and ran my hand over the fake beard I’d applied before I’d left.
No one was going to connect me to the pictures of blond, beardless, glasses-less Garrison that had been plastered all over the news.
It was early enough that many people were en route to work, but I was just in time for the six-thirty PT accountability, which was what I’d been hoping for. Fewer people to run into while inhabiting my fake identity.
I approached the first door, gathering myself with a deep breath. For the next hour, I was Colonel Daniel Firth, I reminded myself. I was confident and wouldn’t bow to anyone lower than me. I wouldn’t accept questions from anyone either. I couldn’t use the device on the door that would prompt it to open, but that didn’t matter. All I needed to do was time my entrance just right.
Ah ha. Through the polished windows, I spotted a young man just approaching on the other side of the door and picked up my pace on my way up the ramp. Just as I reached it, making a motion as if reaching for a key card in my pocket, the door flew open.
The soldier looked at me, his eyes catching on my insignia. “Colonel,” he said with a bob of his head, holding the door open for me.
I offered him a brisk nod in return, no smile, barely any eye contact. Important business to attend to, no time to bother with lowly cannon fodder.
The lobby to the area was nearly empty, though I knew it would fill quickly when accountability had been taken. I nodded at the receptionist as well, and she gave me a quick lift of her hand, allowing me to continue on my way. It was all in the confidence of my walk. I acted like I knew where I was going, so she allowed me to pass without question, though Julius had warned me that some of the receptionists were more rigid about asking everyone for their IDs and proposed location.
This woman didn’t seem to care, especially when it appeared that I outranked her substantially.
It was amusing to see how much weight these people gave to rankings and how easy it made it for an imposter to slip by each of them. Appearances were everything. That was how I’d gotten by in my work for so long.
I made my way toward the stairwell. Marching up one step at a time, I passed another woman with a slicked-back bun—one that looked incredibly tight and professional. I almost missed her rank, which mercifully was a step down from mine, so I gave her a nod and a good morning as she breezed past me without a second glance.
Maybe these people weren’t observant because it was so damn early. I’d left the house before the sun had even risen, a sacrifice I only made when I absolutely had to. It’d gotten me here at what seemed like the perfect time, though, so I didn’t linger on that frustration as I opened the door to the second story and marched inside.
I glanced both ways and went with the flow of the numbers until I reached the end of the hallway, where a secondary secretary was sitting at her computer. She glanced up and held my gaze as I strode over. This one seemed much more intrigued by my arrival than the last, and I internally cursed. I couldn’t continue getting lucky forever, I supposed.
I gave her nametag a quick, discreet scan from a distance and sauntered over with all the confidence in the world, acting as if I belonged there.
“Leto,” I said with a smile as if we’d spoken at least a few times before. “You weren’t here the last time I came by. How have you been?”
She did an immaculate job at hiding her surprise, her gaze flicking to my prominently displayed ID. “It’s nice seeing you again, Colonel Firth.”
She was good,I realized, playing along with me as if she’d done this a million times. Quite possibly she had. There must be so many people coming and going that she regularly couldn’t remember who she’d met before and who was a total newcomer.
I leaned against her desk and took on a conversational tone. “Is the general here? He was supposed to be here for a meeting during accountability today. I hope he’s not late coming in again.”
She made a sound that seemed to be part acknowledgment and part confusion. “It doesn’t look like he has any appointment on the books this morning,” she commented, tilting her head and double-checking. “It wouldn’t be the first time he forgot to inform me of a meeting if it was arranged at the last minute, but usually if it’s not in my books, he’ll have forgotten about it too.”
“Ah, that explains it,” I said with a snap of my fingers. “We just set up the meeting yesterday over beer and burgers. He must have gotten distracted on the way back and it slipped his mind.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, really? That’s interesting. I thought he had a fundraiser yesterday evening.”
