Zero Option

9

Col. Tom Franklin, commanding officer of the Anniston Army Weapons Depot, smelled of scotch when he arrived at the headquarters building.

He had been driven over by his wife. The Franklins had been hosting a dinner party at their quarters, but it had ended when the call from the CDO came in at eleven p.m. The colonel was still in his civilian clothes when he arrived, circumspectly carrying a mug of coffee with him. He went directly to his own office, accompanied by the CDO. The two enlisted people from the control office were told to wait hi the duty office while the colonel listened patiently to the CDO’s report. The colonel had been mildly disturbed at being called out hi the middle of his party, and he was a bit embarrassed to show up with whiskey on his breath, but he was not drunk, and after he heard the lieutenant’s report, he was very damned glad he’d been called.

“Good job, calling me,” he said. “It was absolutely the right thing to do. Are we sure beyond any doubt that these troops have done the audit correctly?”

“Sir, I don’t know that. But three different people have done the audit, and from the sounds-of it, more than once. They were concerned enough to be looking for then-chain of command at night. When I heard Wet Eye, well …”

“Right. Wet Eye. I’m having that same sinking feeling. Okay, get the G-Three in here right now. And get me the number for the Army Command Center in Washington. I’m going to make a voice report on the secure phone, and that’s going to provoke a million questions.”

The CDO was writing fast in his notebook.

“Tell the G-Three that I want Tooele’s duty office notified right away, and tell him that I want commanding officer Tooele to call me ASAP. Then I want everyone between me and the clerk who found this standing tall in my office in one hour. I’m going home to change as soon as I’ve made this call. Got it?” “Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” the CDO said.