Dog Tags

CHAPTER 21

I HAVE NO IDEA IF BILLY’S OPINION OF THE LATE JACK ERSKINE IS FAIR OR ACCURATE. But I do know that his opinion can prove extremely damaging to Billy’s chances of ever getting out of prison.

Major Erskine was stationed in Baghdad, and was in charge of security in that city. It was a uniquely important position, especially as the war slowly wound down and police, rather than strictly military, action became dominant.

Many commanders earn and inspire respect from their rank and file. It doesn’t mean that they are soft on discipline, or that they act like one of the guys. All it means is that they have paid their dues, and are tough but fair.

Jack Erskine had earned no such respect, at least not according to Billy. While Erskine had little contact with anyone other than his direct reports, he had been widely disliked by virtually every soldier under his command. They had watched his willingness to throw subordinates under the bus and behave in a manner designed to curry personal favor with his bosses and Washington.

There were also the rumors that Erskine was corrupt, that he and a small coterie of his men used their power within the country to enrich themselves. Billy had no reason to believe it or doubt it, but with what he had seen in Iraq, nothing would have surprised him.

Not that Erskine really affected Billy’s life one way or the other. Billy enlisted to protect and serve; that was why he became a cop, and why he became a soldier. His father had done the same, as had his two uncles. But it didn’t take long for him to regret his decision, and he had resigned himself to putting in his time and going home. Erskine had no role in that decision one way or the other.

Then came that summer day and an event that was unusual for a number of reasons. The United States, eager to demonstrate what it called a return to normalcy of the country, had invited a number of major players in American private business and finance to meet with Iraqi leaders, in and out of the government.

Nothing of enormous consequence was to be discussed; those things generally got decided in far more private settings. This was for show, and was held outside the safety and security of the Green Zone as a symbolic way of telling the world that Iraq was ready to take its place in the world community.

A brief part of the event was to be held outdoors. That brevity was dictated by the oppressive heat, as well as the obvious fact that security was more difficult to maintain outdoors. But the authorities wanted the citizenry to be there and be a part of it, and more important, they wanted television to beam pictures of those participating Iraqi citizens around the world.

Security was jointly planned and executed by the American military and Iraqi police, with Erskine in charge of the American end of things. It was understood but unspoken that he would therefore be in the lead position for the entire operation.

Billy, like just about every other soldier or MP stationed there, was assigned a role in the operation. He was not at one of the checkpoints through which citizens were admitted into the area; his task was a more general one of being on patrol inside and looking for anything suspicious.

“I saw this girl,” he says. “She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, although I’m usually not that good a judge of age. There was something about her that caught my attention.”

“What was it?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe something about the eyes. They were afraid, but fear is something you saw a lot of over there. Anyway, I wasn’t too worried, because if she had a weapon, she would have been stopped at the checkpoint.”

“So what did you do?”

“I watched her for a while. That was really the only job I had that day, to watch for something suspicious, and I thought that she qualified. She walked pretty close to the stand that was set up, where the dignitaries were. But that wasn’t unusual, because that’s what everybody was there to see.”

He’s talking slowly, carefully and with emotion, and I wonder if this is the first time he’s told the story out loud.

“I watched her for about five minutes, and she was just standing there. She didn’t seem to have any interest in what was going on, and it wasn’t like she was there with any friends. After a while I stopped watching, because if she was going to do anything, by that point she would have done it already.

“Anyway, I walked away from her, which is the only reason I’m alive today. A few minutes later I looked back in her direction, but I couldn’t see her. All I saw was a wall of flame shooting up, and these bleachers that had been constructed were coming down on me. They pinned me down and landed on what used to be my leg, but I don’t remember much of it.”

“How many people were killed?” I ask.

“Eighteen, with another seventy-one badly wounded. The Iraqi oil minister was killed, a guy by the name of Yasir al-Hakim. He was most likely the target. Two of the dead were American businessmen.”

“Where does Erskine fit in?”

He shrugs. “You want to know what I know? Or what I think?”

“Start with what you know,” I say.

“Nothing.”

“Then let’s try what you think.”

“The Iraqi that was killed… the oil minister, al-Hakim… he was new to that job, and the word was that he was going to clean up the corruption. And believe me, there was plenty of corruption to clean up. And I think Erskine was in position to have a piece of it.”

“So you think Erskine was in on having this guy killed?”

He nods. “I do. There’s no way that girl should have been able to get in there with a bomb that size strapped to her. It had to be a setup, and Erskine was one of the people in a perfect position to make that happen.”

“Was there an investigation?”

He laughs. “Sure. Went nowhere.”

“Could it have been an Iraqi that let the girl in?”

“No way. There were American MPs and soldiers everywhere. It just doesn’t ring true. Anyway, Erskine didn’t get off scot-free. The incident at least put him out of favor, and he left the army.” He shakes his head. “The son of a bitch. He lost his command, eighteen people lost their lives, and I lost my leg.”

“So you’ve been watching him since he got back?” I ask.

He nods. “On and off.”

“And you were at the club that night because he was there.”

“Right. And I don’t know what was in that envelope, but the way he was acting, it had to be something important. Something that everyone will want.”

“And you think the prosecutor will trade your freedom for the chance to get it back?”

“I think he’ll be instructed to.”

“Have you told other people your feelings about Erskine?” I ask.

“You mean that I hated his guts? I would say a number of people know that.”

“That will be used against you,” I say.

“Only if I go to trial.”

There’s a lot more for me to learn, but I don’t need to ask those questions now. He’s given me enough to bargain on his behalf, or at least to discover if we have a bargaining position at all.

It’s time to find that out.