things worse.’
‘OK,’ I said.
‘Do it now,’ she said. ‘Why not?’
267
‘OK,’ I said again. I reached out for the phone but before I
could get my hand on it my sergeant put her head in the door.
She told us Major Marshall was no longer based in the United
States. His temporary detached duty had been prematurely
terminated. He had been recalled to Germany. He had been
flown out of Andrews Air Force Base late in the morning of the
fifth of January.
‘Whose orders?’ I asked her.
‘General Vassell’s,’ she said.
‘OK,’ I said.
She closed the door.
‘The fifth of January,’ Summer said.
‘The morning after Carbone and Brubaker died,’ I said.
‘He knows something.’
‘He wasn’t even here.’
‘Why else would they hide him away afterwards?’
‘It’s a coincidence.’
‘You don’t like coincidences.’
I nodded.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Let’s go to Germany.’
268
EIGHTEEN
N
O WAY WAS WILLARD ABOUT TO AUTHORIZE ANY FOREIGN expeditions so I walked over to the Provost Marshal’s
office and took a stack of travel vouchers out of the
company clerk’s desk. I carried them back to my own office and
signed them all with my name on the CO lines and respectable
forgeries of Leon Garber’s signature on the authorized by lines.
‘We’re breaking the law,’ Summer said.
‘This is the Battle of Kursk,’ I said. ‘We can’t stop now.’
She hesitated.
‘Your choice,’ I said. ‘In or out, no pressure from me.’
She said nothing.
‘These vouchers won’t come back for a month or two,’ I said.
‘By then either Willard will be gone, or we will. We’ve got
nothing to lose.’
‘OK,’ she said.
‘Go pack,’ I said. i’hree days.’
She left and I asked my sergeant to figure out who was next
in line for acting CO. She came back with a name I recognized as the female captain I had seen in the 0 Club dining room. The
one with the busted arm. I wrote her a note explaining I would
269
be out for three days. I told her she was in charge. Then I
picked up the phone and called Joe.
‘I’m going to Germany,’ I said.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘Enjoy. Have a safe trip.’
‘I can’t go to Germany without stopping by Paris on the way
back. You know, in the circumstances.’
He paused.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I guess you can’t.’
‘Wouldn’t be right not to,’ I said. ‘But she shouldn’t think I
care more than you do. That wouldn’t be right either. So you
should come over too.’
‘When?’
‘Take the overnight flight two days fl-om now. I’ll meet you at
Roissy-Charles de Gaulle. Then we’ll go see her together.’
Summer met me on the sidewalk outside my quarters and we
carried our bags to the Chevy. We were both in BDUs because
we figured our best shot was a night transport out of Andrews
Air Force Base. We were too late for a civilian red-eye and we
didn’t want to wait all night for the breakfast flights. We got in
the car and logged out at the gate. Summer was driving, of
course. She accelerated hard and then dropped into a smooth
rhythm that was about ten miles an hour faster than the other
cars heading our way.
I sat back and watched the road. Watched the shoulders, and
the strip malls, and the traffic. We drove north thirty miles
and passed by Kramer’s motel. Hit the cloverleaf and jogged
east to 1-95. Headed north. We passed the rest area. Passed the
spot a mile later where the briefcase had been found. I closed
my eyes.
I slept all the way to Andrews. We got there well after midnight.
We parked in a restricted lot and swapped two of our travel
vouchers for two places on a Transportation Corps C-130 that
was leaving for Frankfurt at three in the morning. We waited
in a lounge that had fluorescent lighting and vinyl benches
and was filled with the usual ragtag bunch of transients. The
military is always on the move. There are always people going
somewhere, any time of the night or day. Nobody talked.
270
Nobody ever did. We all just sat there, stiff and tired and