Noble Beginnings: A Jack Noble Thriller (Jack Noble #1)

by L.T. Ryan

  * * *

  Four hours later the van rolled past a red brick sign that read, “CAMP LEJEUNE: HOME OF EXPEDITIONARY FORCES IN READINESS,” and stopped in front of the base’s main gate. The man in the passenger seat stepped out of the van then opened the side door. Two of the men in the back seat got out. They ordered us out and walked us to the corrugated steel guard rail that surrounded the guard house in the middle of the road.

  We stepped over knee high guardrails. A baby faced MP waited for us. He nodded to our escorts and they turned and got back in the van.

  “Move to the front,” the MP said. He pointed past the red stop sign and extended red and white gate crossing the road. “They’ll be up to get you soon.”

  We moved to the other side of the building. I leaned back against the brick exterior and stared down the deserted tree lined street that led to the main base. Things hadn’t changed much since the last time we were here. That was six months ago. Just before our deployment to Iraq.

  Bear leaned over. “This garbage stinks.” He kicked one leg up, placing his heel against the brick wall behind us. “Abbot should have met us out here.”

  “I thought he would,” I said. “He’s the reason we’re here, though, and not the island.”

  “Think he knows we’re here right now?”

  “I hope so, Bear. I honestly do.”

  A dark sedan approached from the base, slowed down and made a U-turn in front of the guard station and stopped in the middle of the road, and then both front doors opened.

  “Turn around,” an MP said as he emerged from the passenger side. “Hands on the wall.”

  I turned to Bear, rolled my eyes, then continued around to face the wall.

  The MPs were on us a few seconds later. They were cautious and calm. They didn’t shout or use force with us.

  “Just a formality,” one of them said. “Nice and easy. Let’s get this over with.”

  I didn’t resist when they pulled my arms down behind me and handcuffed me. Neither did Bear. A few minutes later we were in the backseat of their cruiser.

  “Take us to Colonel Abbot,” I said.

  The driver looked up and made eye contact with me in the rear-view mirror. “He’s not here.”

  My heart sank. Abbot was our only contact on base.

  “Know where he is?”

  The driver shook his head.

  “I’ll need to get in touch with General Keller then.”

  “You realize you’re detained, don’t you?” the other MP said.

  I exhaled and shrugged.

  “Just take it easy. You guys will be settled in soon.”

  I kept hope up that they were taking us to the barracks and putting us up for the night. But the further we drove, the more I knew that wasn’t going to happen. The car finally stopped in front of the brig. The MPs got out. The back doors swung open.

  “What are we being held for?” I asked.

  “Not our concern,” the MP said while pulling me out of the car by my elbow.

  I pulled back.

  “Let’s not go down that route. OK, Noble?”

  I eased up, swung my legs out of the vehicle and planted my feet on the ground. The MP pulled me up and dragged me over to where Bear and his MP escort waited by a door that led inside the brig.

  “Let’s go,” the MP said.

  He led me through the door into the building. We walked down a wide, dimly lit industrial gray painted hallway past several administrative offices. Signs next to each door indicated a name or division. We passed through two sets of security doors then stopped in a cold square room, painted white with a foot wide gray stripe about four feet off the ground. A pale, skinny MP stood behind a counter at the far end of the room. He looked me up and down, did the same to Bear, then disappeared from sight.

  “Strip,” one of the MPs said. “We’ll worry about your hair and beards tomorrow.”

  Bear and I removed our clothes.

  The skinny MP reappeared a few minutes later and handed us a pair of green sweat pants and a gray shirt, slippers for our feet, and some toiletry items. We quickly dressed and gathered up the other items. The MPs led us out of the room, down a darker and narrower hall and through one more set of security doors. We entered one of the housing areas. They split us up, leading Bear up a set of stairs and me down a set.

  It was quiet, eerily so. The air was sterile and smelled of disinfectant. The place was everything you would expect a Marine prison to be.

  We stopped in front of a cell. The wall was solid except for a small hole cut in the middle of the door. I held my breath in anticipation.

  “Don’t move.” The MP let go of my arm and unlocked the cell door. Opened it and turned to me. “Go in.”

  I stepped through and heard the door close behind me. The walls of the room were painted gray and a single light fixture was fixed in the middle of the ceiling. A toilet and sink sat in the back left corner. In the middle of the room was a small table with two permanently attached chairs. A small window in the middle of the back wall allowed sunlight to flood into the room. On the other side of the room, next to the window, sat a metal bunk bed. The top bunk was empty. A man with a shaved head lay on the bottom bunk, ankles crossed, one hand behind his head, the other on his bare stomach. A colored tattoo of a phoenix covered his hairless chest. His eyes shifted from the crossbars of the top bunk to me.

  “Who’re you?”

  “Noble.”

  “Never heard of you.”

  “That’s the way I like it.”

  “What’re you in for?”

  “Murder. You?”

  He shrugged.

  “How’d you get to keep all that crap on your face?”

  I scratched at my short beard. “It bother you?”

  He swung his feet over the side of the bed, planted them on the floor and stood. He was about the same height as me with a similar build.

  “Yeah, it bothers me.”

  “It won’t for long,” I said. “They’re shaving me tomorrow.”

  “How bout I take care of it now?”

  I held my ground, prepared for him to attack. Turned out, I didn’t have to wait long.

  He took a step and reached out with a wide right hook intended for my face.

  I ducked the blow and exploded upward, driving my right fist into his jaw. A crack confirmed that I had either broken or dislocated his jaw, perhaps both.

  He hit the ground like a bag of sand and his head smacked against the concrete floor with a thud.

  I waited a few seconds to see if he’d regain consciousness. He didn’t. I picked him up and dumped him on his mattress, positioning him the way I found him. Then I walked over to the door, stuck my face dead square in the center, which was open to the outside except for four iron bars.

  “That all you got?” I yelled through the hole.