Dead on Arrival

43

Emma had known Doug Chamberlain for twenty years. He’d been a Green Beret, and then he’d trained special ops guys before he retired from the army. He now worked for Prescott Security, the mercenary outfit that Edith Baxter had hired.

‘Why are you involved with these people, Doug?’ Emma said.

Chamberlain looked away, embarrassed. ‘Because of Maggie,’ he said. Maggie was his wife. ‘I got drunk one night, three years ago, and drove the car off the road. Naturally, I didn’t get a scratch. Maggie broke her jaw. The insurance paid for the first surgery, but the docs screwed something up. She was in pain for a year. And it affected her mentally too; she was so depressed I was afraid she was gonna kill herself. Anyway, the HMO wouldn’t pay for another surgery so I paid out of pocket to have her taken care of. She’s had two operations now and might have to have a third. I’ve got two mortgages on the house and I’ve wiped out our savings.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that Doug. But Prescott?’

Chamberlain shrugged. ‘They offered the most money. And all I do is train the people they hire.’

There was nothing to be gained by pointing out that the people he trained provided protection for dictators who butchered their own people. So instead, Emma said, ‘Did you find out why Edith Baxter hired Prescott?’

‘Yeah. You remember the deck-of-cards thing in Iraq? Saddam and the other fifty-one bad guys we were trying to capture over there? Well, Edith had her own deck made up, fifty-two radical Muslims. She’s offering a hundred thousand a head for the capture of these guys.’

‘Their capture or their deaths?’ Emma said.

‘The contract says capture, but well … you know. The thing is, Prescott’s just screwing her. Governments — ours, the Europeans, even the Saudis — have been after some of these guys for years. Prescott’s chance of catching them is practically nil, but he’s billing Baxter for the hours he’s spending looking for them.’

‘Is Prescott helping Edith do anything here in the States?’

‘In the States?’ Chamberlain said.

‘Yes, anything to do with Muslims here in the U.S.?’

‘Not that I know of. I can try to find out if you’d like.’

‘Well, if you could, I’d appreciate-’

Emma’s cell phone rang at that moment. The caller ID screen said it was Howard University Hospital calling.