Private Moscow

Chapter 105

“You’ve got to listen to me, corporal,” I said. “I need to see Colonel Steve Fuller right now.”

I was in the back of a Marine Corps Police vehicle. The large white Dodge Durango SUV was flashed with the red and blue livery of the Corps, and a gold Marine Police badge dominated both front doors. I’d thought my days of being subject to military justice were long gone, but I was in the charge of a corporal, who sat in the front passenger seat, and a private who was driving. The corporal was in his mid-thirties; he had a weather-beaten face and the calm demeanor of someone with a great deal of experience. He was too old for advancement and too young for retirement. The private couldn’t have had more than a couple of years under his belt. Unlike his partner, he’d looked anxious when the fire-watch team at the guardhouse had handed me over.

“The national security of the United States is at stake, corporal,” I said, focusing my attention on the older man, hoping his experience would enable him to recognize I was telling the truth.

I saw a flicker of interest, but the private shot the corporal a skeptical glance.

After my arrest, my wrists had been cable-tied and I’d been frogmarched to the Durango. If I couldn’t convince the corporal and his sidekick, I had no doubt I was headed for the brig, where I’d be held until they could figure out which particular branch of law enforcement got me first. News of my capture would travel fast, and the vultures would already be circling.

“Come on, corporal. I was a winger, a Corps pilot, in Afghanistan with MAG Forty. I’m a patriot, corporal. I served with honor, and I swear by God and country that I’m telling the truth.”

I saw him waver, but the change was momentary, and was quickly replaced by stern detachment.

I hadn’t seen what had happened to Dinara and Hector, but they would be safe. I hadn’t shared my plan for fear they’d try to talk me out of it. There had been a good chance of me getting shot, but I’d bet my life on the training and discipline of the Marine Corps, and I hadn’t been disappointed. I had been about to surrender my weapon when I’d been hauled out of Hector’s car. It had always been my plan to get taken into custody; I just hadn’t expected to get winded in the process. Becoming a military prisoner seemed the surest way for a wanted fugitive to get on base.

“Come on, corporal,” I said. “You’re smart. Just give me five minutes with Colonel Fuller and if he doesn’t believe me, you can lock me up and throw away the key.”

The Durango came to a halt, and the corporal and the private jumped out. I saw a concrete building directly ahead of us. A blue sign hung above a security door and white letters declared this was the “Transient Personnel Unit Pre-Trial Confinement Facility Fallon.” The brig. If I was taken inside, all was lost.

“Corporal, what time is it?” I asked as they opened the Durango’s back door.

He checked his watch. “Eleven twenty-five.”

“We’ve got thirty-five minutes,” I told him. “You have to listen to me.”

He considered my pleas. “I will contact Colonel Fuller once you’ve been processed.”

“That will be too late,” I protested. “We don’t have time.”

“Bring him out,” the corporal ordered.

The private pulled my arm, and I got to my feet. When I stepped onto the lip of the footwell, I lashed out and kicked the private in the face. He fell onto the corporal, who fumbled for his sidearm as he and the private collapsed in a heap.

I jumped from the Durango and raised my hands high behind me, until it felt as though my shoulders might slip from their sockets. As I hit the asphalt, I brought my wrists down against the small of my back and snapped the cable tie. I rushed the private, who was trying to pick himself up, but before he could react, I punched him, reached down to his waist, flipped his holster open and stole his sidearm. I aimed it at the corporal, who had managed to get hold of his own weapon.

“Drop it,” I commanded.

He hesitated.

“Do it now!” I yelled.

The corporal glared at me, but complied and tossed his gun.

“Corporal, if I take you hostage, there’s a good chance you and the private here will face disciplinary charges,” I said. “And I wouldn’t want that.”

He backed away as I stepped toward him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I assured him. “All I ask is that you trust me the way I’m going to trust you.”

I took a deep breath and played the biggest gamble of my life.

“Semper fidelis,” I said as I flipped the pistol and offered it to him. “Always loyal.”