Solemn Duty (1997)

by Leonard B Scott

  "Yes, very."

  She was about to take a bite of her toast but stopped and eyed him again. "And Agent Tanner, if you tell a soul about my Mickey Mouse pajamas, I will shoot you dead. Are we communicating here?"

  Eli smiled. "Perfectly, Agent Sutton."

  Walking out the hotel front doors, Ashley glanced at her fellow agent. "Your car or mine?"

  "Yours. I drive a pickup and it's full of my things. I guess I ought to tell you now so you know. I'm a terrible driver. I do all right on interstates, but in towns I'm really bad. I get tunnel vision or something."

  Ashley sighed and faced him. "Anything else I should know about you?"

  "I don't have any taste buds, burned them out in Nam with all the hot sauce I put on my C-rations. . . . I hate being in water, nearly drowned once, and I loathe hospitals. . . . Let's see . . . nope, that's about it. How about you, I mean other than not being a morning person?'

  "No, I don't have anything to divulge to you. Come on, that blue dodge van is ours, it's rigged special."

  Eli grinned as he approached the vehicle. "A boo ride, no less."

  She pressed the entry remote on her key chain, the van beeped and the door locks sprang up with a single resounding click. "What is this 'boo' business?" Ashley asked. "Millie used the word, too. I've never heard the Bureau referred to that way before."

  Eli climbed in the passenger side and fastened his seat belt.

  "Jerome's son, Jason-when he was little he couldn't say Bureau, instead he said 'boo.' He'd say, 'My daddy works in the boo.' We all picked it up. Now it's kind of a family thing."

  "I like it," Ashley said as she motioned toward the dash.

  "Open the glove compartment and you'll find a fax machine.

  Between us in this big armrest is a minicomputer. The phone is here, below the radio. You've got everything you need to communicate with our office, GBI, Atlanta, or the Bureau. Neat, huh? Oh . . . I didn't even ask, you do know computers, don't you?"

  Eli opened the armrest and studied the small gray computer.

  'When I was in Quantico they wouldn't let me do much, so I took the time to take classes on these things. The modem is built in on this model, right?"

  "I'll be, Rambo has become a wire head."

  'What's that supposed to mean?" Eli asked.

  "Nothing, I'm just impressed, Agent Tanner. I would have thought your type wouldn't even know what a modem was."

  "Tell me, Agent Sutton, what 'type' am I?"

  "The special ops guerrilla-type, of course. I read your file, Agent Tanner, remember? I know you. Well, I thought I did.

  These little surprises of knowing computers and actually admitting you're a poor driver don't fit the mold, however. It gives me hope."

  Eli gave her a quizzical look. "Hope for what?"

  "The hope that you're not an ass like the rest of them."

  Eli sighed. "Agent Sutton, you can stop hoping. I am an ass, or at least most people in the boo think so."

  Ashley slipped the shift to reverse and gave him a side glance. "I never have cared what other people think, Agent Tanner. And I don't think you have, either. We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?'

  As the van passed through Fort Benning, Eli saw familiar training sites and buildings that transported him to a time when he'd been a young soldier training on the post. The three huge orange and white jump towers, the landmarks of the fort, especially brought back good memories. The United States Army Airborne School had been a tough course, but one he'd enjoyed. Like many young soldiers in those days, he had never flown in an airplane before. He got his chance at the Airborne school, but didn't have much time to enjoy the flights. After being airborne for only ten minutes and attaining an altitude of only 1,150 feet, he and the rest of the scared students were ordered to jump out. Eli closed his eyes for a moment, remembering that day. He'd never been so frightened in all his life as he stood in the open door of that aircraft looking down at the distant earth. The 150-knot wind tore at his fatigues, and everything in his being told him not to jump. Then the jumpmaster yelled, "Go!"

  Eli smiled to himself. He had closed his eyes, prayed to God for forgiveness for being so foolish, then sprung into space. As he tumbled to earth, for three very long seconds he had known he was going to die. Then came the abrupt jerk of the chute's opening. Looking up, he witnessed the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, a fully open army-green-issue parachute. He'd done it, defied death and overcome his fear. It was a day he would never forget.

  Feeling her passenger's silence, Ashley gave him a quick glance. "You weren't impressed with the CID people, were you?"

  Eli broke away from his past and shook his head. "No, the opposite in fact. They seem very dedicated. They're awfully young, but the chief warrant officer knew his stuff."

  "What about the Military Police crew?"

  "The major was a pain, but the rest were okay. I think the major is a yes-man to his boss, who was too busy to see us.

  What's the story on Colonel Washinski, anyway?"

  "I don't know, I've never met him. The major always tells me his boss is too busy to see me. Lydia, the captain who works for the major, has hinted to me the colonel is not particularly fond of federal agents."

  As he looked out the window, Tanner said, "What 'type' does that make him?"

  Ashley ignored the question and motioned ahead. "Where do I turn? Are you sure your old Army buddy will even be there?"

  "Turn right at the intersection and head for that huge buff building. It's known--at least it was known--simply as Building Four when I trained here. It's the schoolhouse of the United States Infantry. Is called him when we were visiting the MPs. He said he'd be waiting out front."

  "How long has it been since you've seen him?"

  "Ten years or so. I visited him once when he was stationed at Fort Bragg. We write each other now and then to stay in contact. Look, I'm sorry about asking you to change your schedule, but I promised I'd see him when I got to the post. It won't take long. They have a snack bar inside so you can get a Coke or something."

  Ashley pulled the van into the drive in front of a building where a huge statue of a soldier stood waving his arm forward.

  Eli motioned to the statue with a smile. "That's the famous infantry statue known as Follow Me. Impressive, huh?'

  Ashley rolled her eyes. "I guess, if you like big men."

  "There he is! Pull over."

  Just ahead, a ruddy-faced soldier wearing camouflage fatigues was holding up his hand and beaming. Ashley pulled over, and immediately her passenger was out of the van.

  Seeing the two men unashamedly embrace and hug each other, she regretted her comment about the statue. She realized then that it meant something to men like them. Their tears and obvious affection for each other made it all too clear they had been through a lot together and were bound by more than mere friendship. She felt that, had her brother Josh lived, he would have been just like the two men.

  Eli motioned toward the van, and the ruddy-faced man grinned as he approached Ashley's open window. "Hi, Agent Sutton. I'm Dan Murphy. The Tan man and me were in da Nam together. Park right over there where it says guest parking and come with us. We're all going up to my office."

  "Sergeant, I don't want to be in the way. I'll just get a Coke or-"

  "That's an order, Agent Sutton. Ain't no good tellin' war stories without somebody to impress. I promise we'll bore ya to tears, but at least you'll know more about the Tan man. Hell, one day he's goin' to be famous. When he dies, they're goin' to name a training area after him. We do that for our infantry heroes, ya know?'

  Minutes later Ashley sat in a small office holding a can of Diet Coke as the sergeant major leaned over and patted Eli's shoulder. "Still can't believe you're goin' to be assigned here.

  That's great. I'll take ya fishin' on the river with a couple of vets, and we'll really do some tall tale tellin'."

  . Eli grinned. "Sounds great, Murph. What do you do, man?

&nb
sp; Last time you wrote, you were the Airborne school sergeant major. What are you doin' now?'

  Murphy shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "I'm gettin' ready to retire, that's what. I work for the post sergeant major inspectin' trainin', and do the ash and trash shit. Uh, excuse me, Agent Sutton."

  Ashley smiled. "It's all right, Sergeant. I don't have virgin ears. My dad was a detective and my brother was in the Army."

  Murphy nodded with embarrassment "My wife says I got to cut down on my bad language if I expect to land me a job on the outside. I've been workin' on it. The hard part is the clothes.

  I've worn a uniform for well over twenty years, and now I have to start thinkin' about colored ties, dress shoes, and shi--stuff like that. I don't even know what's in style."

  Eli took out a pen and a pad of paper from the sergeant's desk. "Call this number, Murph. My brother needs good men.

  The hours stink, but it pays good."

  Murphy smiled. "Thanks, Tan man, but I've got me one lined up already. Wife don't know it yet but an old vet friend of mine that retired two years ago is sales manager for a bass boat company here in town. Can't beat the benefits--use of a boat and all the beer and fishing gear I'll ever need. Thanks for the thought, though. Hey, I wasn't kiddin' when I said they'd put your name on a training area sign. I put your name in, man. I got the write-upon your DSC and submitted it to the board that does that sh--stuff. All you gotta do is die and you'll be right up there with the rest of them guys who got the big ones. Four inch letters no less. Can't ya just see it? 'Tanner Range, named in memory of Eli J. Tanner, Sergeant, Infantry. Received the DSC 1972.' "

  Eli grinned. "You're kiddin', right? You wouldn't do that to me?'

  "Hell, it's done, Tan man. You're a hero in my book. You saved my ass, didn't ya? I know the Budweiser people are sure glad you pulled me through. I've drank enough of their brew in the past twenty years to buy 'em a new plant."

  Murphy shifted his gaze to Ashley. "You know all about this, right?"

  Before she could speak, Eli stood. "Later, Murph. I just stopped by to tell ya I'm goin' to be here in town. When I get settled, I want us to go fishin' and drink some of that Bud of yours. We gotta get goin'; I've already screwed up Agent Sutton's schedule enough."

  The sergeant stood and hugged Eli again. "Goddamn, I'm glad to see you, Tan man. Sure, you two get goin'. I understand. But damn ya, call me when you get laagered in."

  Letting Eli go, the sergeant put his hand out to Ashley as she got up. "Agent Sutton, it's a real pleasure meeting you. The offer of fishin' goes to you too. Anybody who can put up with this old vet deserves a Bud or two."

  Once in the van and on the road leading off the post, Ashley broke their silence. "Tan man? And what is a DSC? You Army types speak an entirely different language."

  Eli gave her a questioning look. "I thought you said your brother was in the Army? Didn't you learn any of the lingo from him?"

  Ashley kept her eyes on the road. "I was eight when two officers came to the house while we were having Sunday dinner. They told Dad and Mom that Josh had been killed in action in a place called Hue. So no, Tanner, I never learned the lingo . . . I just remember they wore green suits."

  "I'm sorry, Agent Sutton."

  "No, don't be sorry, Tanner. It happens. You know that better than most. So? What is this Tan man business, and what's a DSCT"

  Eli shrugged as he looked out the window. "Murph and some of the guys in my old unit called me that. And the DSC is just an award they give. It's nothing. Murph is something, isn't he?"

  Ashley smiled despite knowing he was shutting her out of that part of his life. "I liked him a lot. He sure likes you. . . . No, that's not the right word--he cares a lot about you, I can tell.

  Do you have a lot of other veteran friends like him you stay in contact with?"

  Eli closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the trail where all the dead and badly wounded from his platoon had lain that fateful day. He shook his head and spoke in a whisper.

  "No. I've lost contact with most of them."

  She nodded in silence and left him with his memories.

  Seated in a booth, Ashley pushed a plate of half-eaten ribs out of the way and picked up her briefcase. Taking out a handful of case files, she set them down and glanced toward the jukebox. "If that music gets any louder, I'm outta here and we'll have to discuss these in the office tomorrow. God, how can you stand that music?"

  She picked up the first folder and opened it. "Okay, this is the most current one. Five missing M-16s from a weapons maintenance facility. The weapons were accounted for before going in. Four sergeants are the only possibles. Nobody else had access to the weapons."

  She looked up from the file and saw her tablemate looking at her with a distant gaze. She wrinkled her brow. "Are you listening?"

  Eli kept his look. "You don't like them, do you?"

  "Who?"

  "The Military Police, the CID-all of them. You don't like military people, do you?"

  She tossed down the file. "Look, Tanner, we're discussing case files, not how I feel about the military. Let's get this over with and-"

  "Why don't you like them?"

  Lowering her head, she sighed then looked once again at him. "I told you I lost my only brother in Vietnam. I was young. I blamed the guys who brought the news. . . . It's dumb, I know, but it's something I can't help. I see those young kids in uniform and I see my brother . . . lambs . . . lambs for slaughter. Yeah, I probably keep my distance from them. I have to, it bothers me."

  Eli broke his stare from her and picked up his bottle of beer.

  He took a sip and leaned back in his chair. "I'm sorry about your brother . . . but please don't blame these young troopers for his death. They're like your brother was, they're trying to do their duty. They don't need your attitude . . . it's not fair to them."

  Ashley's eyes narrowed into slits and she was about to lash out at him, but he raised his hand. "I'm not insulting you, Agent Sutton. I'm just stating a fact. I had to say it for their benefit. I was once one of them and had to put up with the same kind of look you gave them, the look of disdain. I'm asking that you think about it, that's all. Please leave it at that. I owe them."

  Ashley stared at him a long moment then slowly lowered her eyes. "I . . . I will think about it. I didn't realize my feelings were so obvious. I didn't mean to-"

  "You going to eat the rest of those ribs?" Eli motioned to her plate.

  She knew he was trying to save her from more embarrassment, so she shook her head, accepting the ploy. "No, eat up.

  I'm done."

  He scooted her plate closer. "You were an athlete, weren't you?" he asked as he picked up a rib. "You still look like one. . . . You must run or play racquetball. You have to do something to stay in as good shape as you're in."

  "I played softball in high school, and when I went back to college in eighty-eight I found out I was still good enough to make the women's softball team. And no I'm not a lesbian, and yes I still run a couple of miles every day to stay in shape."

  Eli took a bite and shook his rib bone at her. "I didn't ask if you were a lesbian, I'd never do that. I know you're not anyway."

  "How do you know that? Maybe I'm lying." know 'cause I know. It's this secret thing I have. It tells me."

  It was obvious that he was trying to lighten the conversation.

  She canted her head. "Yeah, and what secret thing of yours tells you all this?"

  "My gut. It knows good ribs and good beer, knows who's dirty, who's lying, and whether a person is gay or not. I trust my gut with my life."

  She opened the first file again. "Well, tell your gut to listen while I bring you up to speed on these cases. I'm counting today as your first day of work. That means in eighty-nine more days I'm gone and leaving you and your gut to handle these. Is your gut listening?"

  "He's full," Eli said, straight-faced.

  "Tough. As I was saying, the first case is about five missing M-16s a
nd ..."

  Eli nodded to himself, knowing it had been hard for her to hear the criticism, but she'd handled it pretty well and didn't take it personally. He thought she might even have a sense of humor hidden somewhere behind that professional mask she wore, if she ever loosened up.

  Chapter 6.

  Tuesday, June 5, Columbus, Georgia.

  Ashley opened the office door and was surprised to find Eli sitting beside her desk, reading one of her case files.