by Dale Mayer
“They must have heard something or got a signal of some kind. Because, all of a sudden, they picked me up and pulled me out the back. Next thing I knew, they were half dragging me around the corner.” She pointed to where she had just come from. “It wasn’t far, but it was obviously another empty barracks. Somewhere along the way, when I started to fight back, one of them smacked me hard.” She reached up to touch her puffy cheek and winced. “That won’t look pretty.”
“You’ll always be beautiful,” Parker said, gently kissing her on the nose. “That’s for the owie. And a puffy cheek won’t change that. But I’ll get my hands on that asshole. You can count on it.” His tone was low and ominous.
One of the colonel’s men stepped forward and said, “Not your problem.”
Parker glared at him. “If you guys can’t do your damn jobs, somebody else has to step in, and, in this case, that asshole won’t get away with hitting her.”
One soldier stepped forward. “I’m Sergeant Hall. This is Paulson.” He reached out a hand and gripped Parker on the shoulder. “We will take care of this. Trust us.”
Parker snorted. “Trust? I had to get help through a backhand request.”
They nodded and shrugged.
“The two men will have ditched the uniforms by now,” Hall said. “Can you give us something descriptive to identify them?”
“One was tall, reddish hair,” Sandy said. “More Slavic-looking, high cheekbones but real thin. The second guy had an olive skin tone, black hair, heavyset, more of a gut. I didn’t see much of his features except for the nose. It was broken. A big bulbous nose. Very odd looking.”
Hall said, “We might know him. We’ll update the colonel and see about tracking these two down. The colonel will want you to personally identify these men.”
“Or let us stay some place nice and public and run a group of men past us, and we’ll pick them out,” Parker said quietly. “The last thing you want is to have us locked up in the colonel’s office.”
Paulson and Hall frowned.
“We are not planning on being separated again,” Sandy said, looping her arm with Parker’s, Samson standing between them. “How foolish that last attack was. All I wanted to do was get the dog a drink. We can’t even get dog food because everybody here needs paperwork for this poor animal to get a meal.”
Hall looked down at the dog. “They wanted paperwork to authorize the release of dog food? Of course they did.”
“I do want another coffee,” Sandy said, almost aggressively. “My face is starting to really hurt.”
The men nodded. “Do you want to go to medical first?”
“I’m a nurse. I can take care of this myself. But it’s starting to sting. And I’m tired and fed up.” She pulled Parker with her. “And you won’t let me go. Will you?”
“No,” Parker replied. He slid his hand down to her hand and clasped it tightly, raising his hand so she could see their interlocked fingers. “This is where you stay. And, by the way, you have Samson to thank for that distraction that sent the men running.”
She glanced at Parker in surprise and then down at Samson. She crouched and wrapped her now freed hand around the dog and gave him a big cuddle. “Thanks for finding me, Samson,” she said. “I don’t know what those two men were up to, and I don’t know what they would have done if you hadn’t sent out the alarm so fast.”
“Which direction did they go?” Hall asked.
She pointed to the left. “There, but then who knows where they ended up,” Sandy said.
“Did any of the questions they asked give you any idea what they were looking for?”
“Just questions about Parker. Questions about the airport. Almost normal questions, as if they were military police investigating a case. But they weren’t asking properly. Not like they were official. They wouldn’t show me any IDs. Not to mention, they hit me and transferred me to another unofficial location.”
She glanced at the two men as the four of them walked toward the mess hall. “I thought we had people on watch. Keeping an eye on us?”
Paulson nodded. “Exactly. And they were relieved by the two MPs who took you away.”
“So they were military police?” she asked.
They shook their heads but didn’t clearly answer. “That’s what we’ll check out.”
She realized they were almost at the mess hall tent again. She let out a sigh of relief as they were seated at a big table outside toward the back, where they were out of the main traffic areas. Paulson and Hall then left them.
Parker sat right beside her and said, “We’re up against a fine conundrum. I want to go in and get a coffee, but I’ve got Samson. And I don’t want to leave you.”
She thought about it and said, “We go together.”
Just like that, the three stood and walked through the mess hall tent and headed straight for the coffee. Sandy also picked up several muffins, and they headed back outside.
When she sat back down, she said, “What did they want with me?”
“Answers,” Parker said, stirring his coffee. “The question really is, why? And what did they think you would have to say?”
“I don’t know anything,” she replied. “Unless it goes back to all those photos I took at the hanger. Or did they assume that if I took a photo I’d seen something myself. Taking me out means no witness.”
Parker looked at her. “Good point. Maybe we should check those out a little closer.”
“It would be better to have my laptop,” Sandy said with a half smile.
“It’ll be hard to see either screen outside. We could take our coffee back to the mess tent, but …”
“But we’ve been asked to stay here,” she finished for him. “I have my phone. Let me take a look.” She brought up the gallery of photos and flicked through them. “It’s not like we’ll see anything. A lot of detail is here. I need a big monitor to identify what we’re looking at.”
“One thought’s been bugging me. And I wished to hell I’d checked it out while we were there. But it occurred to me later … what if someone was hiding out in that hanger while we were there? They’d have been well hidden, but it’s possible. I did a cursory search when we entered, but I wasn’t expecting anyone to still be hanging around with a dead man there,” Parker said in a low voice, leaning closer to study the images as she brought them up.
“Nobody attacked us,” Parker continued, “but maybe they didn’t like the odds and didn’t want to make their presence known. What are the chances that, when the MPs arrived, the hidden guy managed to change his hiding spot? Or one of the MPs was involved and helped him get away? Or alternatively he stayed hidden until everybody else left?”
“The trouble is, we can’t know because we were the first to leave,” Sandy said. “They could have hidden in there, or they could have gone out back and headed cross-country. It was dark. They could have gone anywhere at that time.”
“I know,” Parker said. “I was thinking of that. No other wheels were there either.”
“It’s not that far. It’s only a couple miles from here on the same base. Hardly an issue for anyone with navy training.”
“True.” He tapped one of her pictures and asked, “See that doorway? Do you see something different there?”
She tried to expand the photo so they could see the details. “I’m not sure.” She leaned in closer. “Is that a foot?”
“I’m thinking it’s a boot,” he said. “The question is, was there somebody inside that boot?”
They looked at each other and bent to look closer at her screen. “That would have been behind where the coats and coveralls were hung,” she said finally.
“That makes sense that there would be spare boots there too. So we don’t know for sure that what we’re seeing is actually a person, as it could literally be a spare pair of boots.”
Sandy frowned. “We did walk that area. So we would have noticed somebody.”
“Would we have, really?” Parker asked thoug
htfully. “We had a short amount of time to search. And quite a few pairs of overalls were there.”
“They were bunched up, weren’t they? Did we miss somebody in there? Did somebody hide while we were there, taking all those photos? And then, when the military police left, they snuck out?”
“They wouldn’t need much time. Besides, if they had fooled us, chances are they fooled the military police who were there too. We left three MPs behind. Maybe one knew the guy was trying to hide, and maybe none of them had anything to do with it.”
Sandy nodded, putting her phone down.
Parker picked it up. “May I?”
“Go ahead. Take a look,” she replied. “I’m confused. I don’t know what’s going on anymore.”
“I think what’s going on is easy. Reselling US military goods. The problem is finding out who is behind it all.”
“So we’re talking about stolen goods from this base are then moved out to the private market?”
Parker nodded. “We already know Ronnie had to either know somebody or was involved. Or wanted to be involved or wasn’t involved but wanted kickbacks to not involve anybody else. It’s all conjecture on our part.”
“We’re still here for another few hours,” Sandy said. “Can we do anything to narrow this down?”
Parker tapped another photo she had taken of the overalls, and, while she watched, he used his fingers to enlarge the photo. They both studied it when he tapped the top and asked, “Does that look like a nose to you?”
She peered into the photo, enlarging that one section until it blurred out. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “It’s a disconcerting thought to consider we might have missed somebody who was there and likely killed Ronnie.”
“I know. We had time to capture him too.”
“He was good though …” She looked at Parker. “Samson was out of his cage. How is it he didn’t know a man was there?”
Parker frowned. “That’s the best argument we have yet as to that not being a person.” He pondered some more. “Except Samson was lying almost always in front of that area, wasn’t he?”
Sandy nodded. “He was. Which could mean he knew whoever was hiding there.”
“Right. It could have been a game they played too. One of the things the dogs learn is to hunt out people in hiding.”
“But surely Samson wouldn’t have been taught to lay down at his feet?”
“Yes, that would have been part of his training,” Parker said quietly. “Chances are though it was somebody he worked with all the time. There could have been a hand signal from the overalls we didn’t see but which instructed Samson to lie down and relax.”
“Scary thought. To think Samson already had so much information, and we never even asked him.” She snickered.
“Because we don’t speak the same language,” Parker replied with a laugh. He reached down to pet Samson, who was eyeing the muffin on the table. “Do you think he’s hungry?”
“He’s a dog,” Sandy said. “Dogs eat anytime, anything, anywhere.”
“So true.” Parker tossed the muffin to Samson and then chuckled, only to look back down at the photos, his smile falling away. “If someone was hidden in the hanger, Samson was just lying there, completely relaxed, because he knew perfectly well who was there and respected him. And, if that’s the case, … how do we get him to tell us who it was that he was doing that with?”
“Another trainer maybe?”
His gaze lit up. “That’s not a bad idea. But what we need is somebody on our side who will find the right people to talk to.”
“I don’t imagine too many K9 trainers are here, but what if there were only a half dozen? You’d have the same problem of possibly talking to the wrong one.” They drank their coffee until Sandy asked, “What happened to Samson’s handler?”
“I’m not sure. I assumed he was badly injured in the same accident that finished Samson’s career.”
“But what if he wasn’t? Who do we know who would have worked with the dogs? Surely if we had all the K9 handlers here, Samson would show us which ones he was comfortable with.”
“He’s most likely comfortable with all of them. I don’t know how many are here at any point in time but maybe well over thirty or forty.”
“Maybe the colonel can tell us?”
Parker pulled out his phone, and she grinned. “You’ll contact Badger again?”
He chuckled. “The colonel hasn’t given me his direct contact information and neither have the two men who brought us here.”
Just then a shadow fell over Parker’s shoulder. He looked up, and there were Sergeants Hall and Paulson, standing behind them, watching Parker.
Sergeant Hall squatted beside him and asked in a low voice, “Who are you texting?” Parker gave him a flat stare, and the man shrugged. “The colonel said you can talk to him directly.”
“He didn’t give us any contact information though, did he?” Parker said, also in an equally low tone.
Hall hesitated, then nodded. “Do you have something to send to him?”
“Any chance of getting him on the end of a phone? Or at least running a couple ideas past him?”
The soldier checked his watch and said, “He’ll be back in his office in a few minutes. Let’s go for a walk.”
They stood. Sandy pocketed the rest of the muffins, while Parker wrapped Samson’s rope around his hand, and they headed for the colonel’s office.
Hall left them outside, while he stepped in and then pulled open the door for them to enter.
Colonel Barek motioned at two seats. “So what’s this about? I assumed it was over, since I was not getting any more phone calls from Commander Cross. I like the man just fine, but I don’t like him involved in my business.”
“Understood,” Parker said. “The only problem for us is that we don’t know who we’re supposed to trust.” His voice must have changed tone as Samson nuzzled his hand. “It’s okay, boy,” he whispered.
“Since I’m at the top of the food chain, you better start trusting me,” the colonel said.
“When we were at the airport hangar with the dead body,” Parker said, “we took a mess of photos. Now, while having coffee, we looked through a bunch of those that Sandy had taken. A few raise interesting questions.”
“What photos?” the colonel barked.
Sandy held up her cell phone. He held out his hand, and she handed it over. He grabbed a USB cord and connected her phone to his laptop. “Come around here. What photos in particular?”
He swiped through the photos, his gaze stopping at the photo of Ronnie lying dead. “A good man,” he said in a hard voice.
When the image came up that first caught Parker’s attention, he called out, “Stop.”
The colonel went back one and asked, “What am I looking at?”
“We were wondering if that pair of boots was attached to a human,” Parker said.
They looked at it as largely as they could, and the commander said, “No way to know. Even if they were, what would that tell you?”
“That somebody was hiding among all those hanging clothes,” Sandy said quietly. “If you swipe three more photos forward …”
He flicked forward and stopped on one that appeared to be of the coats and hats.
Parker leaned forward and pointed at what he had thought was a face. “Is that a nose and eyes?”
The colonel stared at it for a long moment and then sat back. “Well, I’ll be.”
Two photos later, she had photos of Samson lying in front of the clothing. The colonel motioned at the dog. “So why wouldn’t the dog have alerted you to his presence?”
Parker looked at him and said, “He did.”
The colonel raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”
“He was lying down in front of somebody he knew,” Parker said. “As close as I can figure, he probably sniffed out the person, got a hand signal to lay down, calm and happy, thinking this was all part of his training.”
“Which wou
ld mean somebody who the dog knew and who the dog trusted but also somebody who understood hand signals,” the colonel said, speaking slowly.
Parker gave a clipped nod.
“Interesting theory and definitely a place to start.” He looked at Samson and said, “Maybe he isn’t leaving today.”
“How many handlers do you have on base now?” Parker asked.
“Not many. I had seven who shipped out two days ago, before Ronnie was killed. I have six out in the field right now. I think I have five on base.”
“Handlers or dogs?” Sandy asked, walking slowly around to sit back down on the chair in front of the desk. “Because a handler without a dog could still be somebody Samson knows well.”
He nodded. “Good point.” He called for Sergeant Hall to come back in. When the man stepped in, the colonel explained he wanted all the K9s’ handlers, past and present, standing in his office within fifteen minutes. He then looked at Parker and asked, “Can you handle Samson? I want him kept out of sight until we get to the point of taking a look at the men.”
Parker nodded. “I’ll take him away and then bring him back in, once you’ve got everybody assembled. I’m still not sure how to have him show us who he knows and who he doesn’t.”
“I’ll have to think about that. I used to do a bunch of K9 work myself way back when, but I haven’t had to bring those skills into play in a long time.”
Parker said, “And don’t forget Sandy was kidnapped by two of your MPs.”
“Not MPs. We found two military police officers trussed up in the back room of the station. They had been knocked out from behind and stripped. Both men will be okay, but they’re pretty pissed themselves.”
Sandy let out a long, hard breath. “That makes more sense. I was hoping they weren’t actual MPs because, of course, that would just make this whole in-house situation worse.”
“Exactly,” the colonel said. “We still have to find the two men who attacked them and you.”
“One of the men had a very distinctive face,” Parker spoke up again. “Your Sergeant Hall thought he might have an idea who one of Sandy’s kidnappers were, but Hall didn’t give us a name. Said he would go find him.”