Free The Enemy by Lee Child Page A
Authors: Lee Child
post."
"Yes," I said. "If."
"Did you see another Humvee?"
"Don't think so," I said.
"Who do you think she is?"
I shrugged. "Like we figured about the phantom hooker. Someone he met somewhere. Irwin, probably, but it could have been anywhere."
I stared across at the gas station. Watched cars go by on the road.
"Vassell and Coomer might know her," Summer said. "You know, if it was a long term thing between her and Kramer."
"Yes, they might."
"Where do you think they are?"
"I don't know," I said. "But I'm sure I'll find them if I need them." I didn't find them. They found me. They were waiting for me in my borrowed office when we got back. Summer dropped me at my door and went to park the car. I walked past the outer desk. The night shift sergeant was back. The mountain woman, with the baby son and the paycheck worries. She gestured at the inner door in a way that told me someone was in there.
Someone that ranked a lot higher than either of us.
"Got coffee?" I said.
"The machine is on," she said.
I took some with me. My coat was still unbuttoned. My hair was a mess. I looked exactly like a guy who had been brawling in a parking lot. I walked straight to the desk. Put my coffee down. There were two guys in upright visitor chairs against the wall, facing me. They were both in woodland BDUs. One of them had a brigadier general's star on his collar and the other had a colonel's eagle. The general had Vassell on his name tape and the colonel had Coomer. Vassell was bald and Coomer wore eyeglasses and they were both pompous enough and old enough and short and soft and pink enough to look vaguely ridiculous in BDUs. They looked like Rotary Club members on their way to a fancy dress ball. First impression, I didn't like them very much.
I sat down in my chair and saw two slips of paper stacked square in the centre of the blotter. The first was a note that said: Your brother called again. Urgent. This time there was a phone number with it. It had a 202 area code. Washington D.C.
"Don't you salute senior officers?" Vassell said, from his chair.
The second note said: Col. Garber called. Green Valley PD calculates Mrs K died approx. 0200. I folded both notes separately and tucked them side by side under the base of my telephone. Adjusted them so I could see exactly half of each one. Looked up in time to see Vassell glaring at me. His naked scalp was going red.
"I'm sorry," I said. "What was the question?"
"Don't you salute senior officers when you enter a room?"
"If they're in my chain of command," I said. "You're not."
"I don't consider that an answer," he said.
"Look it up," I said. "I'm with the 110th Special Unit. We're separate. Structurally we're parallel to the rest of the army. We have to be, if you think about it. We can't police you if we're in your chain of command ourselves."
"I'm not here to be policed, son," he said.
"So why are you here? It's kind of late for a social visit."
"I'm here to ask some questions."
"Ask away," I said. "Then I'll ask some of my own. And you know what the difference will be?"
He said nothing.
"I'll be answering out of courtesy," I said. "You'll be answering because the Uniform Code of Military Justice requires you to."
He said nothing. Just glared at me. Then he glanced at Coomer. Coomer looked back at him, and then at me.
"We're here about General Kramer," he said. "We're his senior staff."
"I know who you are," I said.
"Tell us about the general."
"He's dead," I said.
"We're aware of that. We'd like to know the circumstances."
"He had a heart attack."
"Where?"
"Inside his chest cavity."
Vassell glowered.
"Where did he die?" Coomer said.
"I can't tell you that," I said. "It's germane to an ongoing inquiry."
"In what way?" Vassell said.
"In a confidential way."
"It was around here somewhere," he said. "That much is already common knowledge."
"Well, there you go," I said. "What's the conference at Irwin about?"
"What?"
"The conference at Irwin," l said
"Yes," I said. "If."
"Did you see another Humvee?"
"Don't think so," I said.
"Who do you think she is?"
I shrugged. "Like we figured about the phantom hooker. Someone he met somewhere. Irwin, probably, but it could have been anywhere."
I stared across at the gas station. Watched cars go by on the road.
"Vassell and Coomer might know her," Summer said. "You know, if it was a long term thing between her and Kramer."
"Yes, they might."
"Where do you think they are?"
"I don't know," I said. "But I'm sure I'll find them if I need them." I didn't find them. They found me. They were waiting for me in my borrowed office when we got back. Summer dropped me at my door and went to park the car. I walked past the outer desk. The night shift sergeant was back. The mountain woman, with the baby son and the paycheck worries. She gestured at the inner door in a way that told me someone was in there.
Someone that ranked a lot higher than either of us.
"Got coffee?" I said.
"The machine is on," she said.
I took some with me. My coat was still unbuttoned. My hair was a mess. I looked exactly like a guy who had been brawling in a parking lot. I walked straight to the desk. Put my coffee down. There were two guys in upright visitor chairs against the wall, facing me. They were both in woodland BDUs. One of them had a brigadier general's star on his collar and the other had a colonel's eagle. The general had Vassell on his name tape and the colonel had Coomer. Vassell was bald and Coomer wore eyeglasses and they were both pompous enough and old enough and short and soft and pink enough to look vaguely ridiculous in BDUs. They looked like Rotary Club members on their way to a fancy dress ball. First impression, I didn't like them very much.
I sat down in my chair and saw two slips of paper stacked square in the centre of the blotter. The first was a note that said: Your brother called again. Urgent. This time there was a phone number with it. It had a 202 area code. Washington D.C.
"Don't you salute senior officers?" Vassell said, from his chair.
The second note said: Col. Garber called. Green Valley PD calculates Mrs K died approx. 0200. I folded both notes separately and tucked them side by side under the base of my telephone. Adjusted them so I could see exactly half of each one. Looked up in time to see Vassell glaring at me. His naked scalp was going red.
"I'm sorry," I said. "What was the question?"
"Don't you salute senior officers when you enter a room?"
"If they're in my chain of command," I said. "You're not."
"I don't consider that an answer," he said.
"Look it up," I said. "I'm with the 110th Special Unit. We're separate. Structurally we're parallel to the rest of the army. We have to be, if you think about it. We can't police you if we're in your chain of command ourselves."
"I'm not here to be policed, son," he said.
"So why are you here? It's kind of late for a social visit."
"I'm here to ask some questions."
"Ask away," I said. "Then I'll ask some of my own. And you know what the difference will be?"
He said nothing.
"I'll be answering out of courtesy," I said. "You'll be answering because the Uniform Code of Military Justice requires you to."
He said nothing. Just glared at me. Then he glanced at Coomer. Coomer looked back at him, and then at me.
"We're here about General Kramer," he said. "We're his senior staff."
"I know who you are," I said.
"Tell us about the general."
"He's dead," I said.
"We're aware of that. We'd like to know the circumstances."
"He had a heart attack."
"Where?"
"Inside his chest cavity."
Vassell glowered.
"Where did he die?" Coomer said.
"I can't tell you that," I said. "It's germane to an ongoing inquiry."
"In what way?" Vassell said.
"In a confidential way."
"It was around here somewhere," he said. "That much is already common knowledge."
"Well, there you go," I said. "What's the conference at Irwin about?"
"What?"
"The conference at Irwin," l said
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