SEAN AND MICHELLE had spent most of the evening and much of the next day learning that collectively there were dozens of military facilities located in Georgia, Mississippi, and Alabama with hundreds of thousands of military personnel assigned to them. Too many, in fact, for that to be of much use in their investigation. They were sitting in their office when Sean had an idea. He called Chuck Waters and left a message. A few minutes later the FBI agent called back.
"The isotope exam you did on the hair sample?" Sean began.
"What about it?"
"Did it show anything else?"
"Like what?"
"I know that it can tell what your diet has been like for years, but can it also show any anomalies in that chain?"
"Anomalies?"
"Like a break in the chain, where it shows a different type of diet, at least for a period of time?"
"Hold on."
Sean heard some paper rustling and a chair squeaking.
"I don't see anything like that," Waters said.
"Nothing out of the ordinary?"
More paper rustled. "Well, I'm no scientist, but you know how we were discussing that the perp was probably rural because of the unprocessed meats and vegetables and the well water?"
"Yeah."
"Well, there was elevated levels of salt, which makes sense if these folks are preserving stuff, right?"
"Right. We already discussed that."
"Well, in addition to the elevated levels of that, there was higher than normal amounts of sodium."
"But, Chuck, sodium is salt. That would be from canning vegetables and curing meat. We covered that."
"Hey, Einstein, I know that. But they've developed new technologies that can let them distinguish between certain types of sodium found with the isotope exam. What the tests show is elevated levels of a specialized sodium product that is commercially produced but not readily available to the public."
"Would that be because they supply a certain government entity? Like the military? Like sodium in MREs?"
"If you knew about the meals-ready-to-eat angle why are you wasting my time?" Waters said angrily.
"I suspected. I didn't know for certain until you just told me now. And since you obviously knew already, it would've been nice if you had volunteered the info before now."
"I'm running an investigation here, King, not a consulting service."
"There are commercially available MREs. For like the survivalists. You sure it's not that sort of sodium?"
"The sodium level in the military MREs are higher than the commercially available stuff. But so it was military, so what? That only narrows it down to millions of people."
"Maybe, maybe not."
"What do you mean by that?"
"If the perps are military, can't you run the hair sample for a DNA match through the Pentagon's enlistment records? They require DNA samples from everybody now."
"I tried to, but their damn system crashed. Fighting two wars has apparently strapped their budget for computer maintenance. Won't be back up for a couple weeks."
"Great." Sean clicked off and looked at Michelle.
"So where do MREs get us?" she said.
"Now we know the odds are very high that the perp was military. It's at least good to confirm that. But we still have the little issue of tracking him down. It doesn't sound like we'll be getting a DNA match anytime soon."
"He couldn't still be in the military, could he?"
"And went on some R and R to conduct a little kidnapping? And got back to base with his face all scratched up and a bullet bruise on his chest?"
"So discharged?"
"Presumably. Either honorably or dishonorably. But that still doesn't help us. Because there are literally millions of former members of the military."
Michelle was staring at Sean's chest.
He looked down. "Coffee spill?" he said.
"He was wearing body armor. Sure, you can leave the military with some government stuff, but body armor?"
"You can get that on the street."
"Maybe, or you can just take it with you."
"Pretty tough to hide that when you're discharged."
"What if you left without being discharged?"