Relentless

6

“But why me?”

They were riding north in the Lincoln on Interstate 10. The speedometer hovered at seventy but it was cool and quiet inside the air-conditioned sedan. The Major drove the way he did most things-with casual and unflappable efficiency. Walker repeated, “Why pick me?”

“Because it’s always better to deal with a known quantity. You were a good officer. You know how to take orders, you’re accustomed to military operations. There were half a dozen uniformed pilots I could have brought into this thing, but they’d have had to go AWOL and it would have made a fuss. Nobody’s going to miss you.”

He didn’t think the Major meant anything by that remark but it chilled him, made the little hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He fought the feeling and changed the subject. “Who else is in this?”

“Three others. You may have known two of them.”

“Baraclough?”

“Yes.”

Baraclough had been mentioned in the clipping. He’d been an Army captain, Hargit’s second-in-command. He’d been drummed out of the Army by the same court-martial board He remembered Baraclough vaguely: a thin sardonic opportunist with a napalm scar on one arm.

“Who else?”

“Eddie Burt.”

“I don’t think I remember him.”

“He was a sergeant under my command.”

“They court-martial him too?”

“No. They thought about it but they had to draw the line someplace-on those charges you could cashier every other American soldier out there.”

“But this fellow Burt stayed with you.”

“He’s a loyal man.” You couldn’t picture the Major smirking but there was considerable satisfaction in his little smile.

“Who’s the fifth man?”

The Major’s face changed abruptly. “You’ve never met him. An ex-convict named Hanratty.” He didn’t bother to conceal the contempt in his voice.