assume he’ll shoot straight with us.”
“He’d better,” Schwarz interjected. “The guy doesn’t have any choice, especially in light of the fact they decided to slap Army CID credentials on us.”
“If he’s got nothing to hide then I don’t think we’ll have to worry about it,” Lyons said. “I’m actually more concerned about the disappearance of Colonel Scott. Barb was right when she told us this guy going AWOL and the disappearance of the spook in Khartoum was entirely too proximal to be an accident.”
“Well, let’s just remember we’re not supposed to know anything about Scott unless Saroyan mentions him,” Blancanales reminded them. “The Farm got that information from someone inside the administrative ranks. We have to keep our investigation focused on the missing weapons. If Scott’s disappearance comes up then maybe we can take an interest, be able to logically tie the two incidents together.”
“Sounds like a reasonable plan to me,” Lyons said. “The sooner we can get this done the sooner we can get to work and find the bad guys.”
“While we’re on the subject of bad guys, what do you two think about Scott’s disappearance?” Schwarz asked.
“What do you mean?” Blancanales said.
“Well, I just mean that while his splitting is obviously not coincidental, we don’t have any evidence so far that suggests he was taken involuntarily. If we assume he was kidnapped or worse, that would imply whoever’s behind smuggling these weapons off this base and out to members of the Lord’s Resistance Army would have to be in country. Even if we are able to swing this so that our looking into Scott’s disappearance just seems like part of the case, it’s a good chance we might walk into a trap.”
“You’re thinking members of the Lord’s Resistance Army might figure someone will come looking for him,” Lyons said.
“Exactly.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve walked in with blinders on for the sake of government red tape,” Blancanales said. “I think we just have to wait and see what happens.”
“Are we there yet?” Lyons asked in an attempt to lighten the conversation a bit.
“I thought I told you to go before we left,” Blancanales shot back.
Lyons took the opportunity to give him a light tap in the arm, if there was any such thing from the blond warrior, as Blancanales turned into the parking lot of the base headquarters building. After locating a guest parking spot and asking a short, pert brunette in uniform where they could find the base commander’s office, Blancanales and Schwarz made their way dutifully toward the entrance to which she pointed. Lyons straggled just a bit, taking the opportunity to watch her walk away—appreciative of the shapely legs that protruded from the dark green skirt and dipped into black shoes that clopped along the sidewalk in rhythm to her walk.
Shaking himself and realizing his friends had made considerable distance, Lyons jogged after them with just the hint of a smile.
The men found the office of Major General Anthony Saroyan and were shown in by a young sergeant as soon as they arrived. The place was spacious and nicely decorated, many of the pieces on the furniture from the turn of the nineteenth century. There was a fair amount of war memorabilia sitting along the high shelves and a fairly large bookcase occupied another wall. The desk was the only military-issue item in the whole place, and the chairs shown to the Able Team warriors were unusually comfortable.
They were barely seated when a tall, distinguished-looking man in his early fifties entered the room. He had thin hair of a color somewhere between white and gray. The eyes were equally gray but there was no mistaking the intelligence and hard discipline behind them. He was attired in standard Class B uniform, and a bucket-load of medals adorned the left breast of his shirt. The twin stars of his rank rode on dark green epaulettes and glistened in the morning light that streamed through the window.
They rose to attention and saluted in unison. He returned the salute casually, shook hands with each of them in turn and then took a seat behind his desk.
“Gentlemen, this is Command Sergeant Major Shubin,” Saroyan said, gesturing to a man who entered right at that point and took a position near the general’s desk.
Shubin was considerably shorter than his CO but no less intense. He wore the identical Class B uniform and nearly as many medals, the only difference being that on his epaulettes were three stripes and three rockers, a star cradled in a leaf centered between the chevrons.
Saroyan continued. “Sergeant Major Shubin is the senior noncommissioned officer on the base, and I’ve asked him to be a part of this inquiry since the armory here at Camp Shelby falls under his purview along with all of the other S1 depots.”
“That’s all well and good, sir,” Lyons replied, adding the honorific quickly as an afterthought. Damn, he’d almost blown it and he’d barely opened his mouth. “But I assumed that we would be joined by your senior supply officer, as well. We are, after all, talking about a dozen missing assault rifles.”
“I’ll be candid with you, primarily because you are representatives of the Army’s chief law-enforcement division,” Saroyan said. “Under most circumstances I would’ve had Colonel Scott join us. Unfortunately, he had to leave the base quite suddenly. A family emergency—I’m sure you understand.”
“I see,” Lyons said. He glanced at Shubin and then returned his attention to Saroyan. “Well, I have every confidence the sergeant major here can assist in our investigation.”
“Sir,” Blancanales interjected, intent on getting the situation into their control as soon as possible. “Being as these weapons have gone missing and Colonel Scott is not present—”
“I know what you’re going to say, Chief…?” Saroyan’s voice trailed off.
“You’ll pardon me, sir,” Blancanales said. He made a show of reaching for his credentials.
Seeing they had not demonstrated proper protocol, Lyons and Schwarz followed suit. They should have presented their identification and orders to investigate to the base commander immediately on arrival, but they knew the oversight would be forgivable under the circumstances. If nothing else, Blancanales was convinced Saroyan didn’t know anything about the missing weapons; his choice to not tell them Scott was actually AWOL was little more than courteous. No matter whom they represented, in Saroyan’s and Shubin’s view the trio were outsiders and would be treated as such where it concerned reputable Army officers until they had proved their trustworthiness.
Once Saroyan made a cursory inspection of their credentials, he sat back and smiled, although Blancanales didn’t see much warmth in it.
“Now that we’ve dispensed with formalities,” Saroyan said, “I’d like to follow up on your earlier comment. I’ve known Colonel Scott for a good many years, gentlemen. As a matter of fact he served as my S1 officer during Operation Iraqi Freedom. He’s a man of good reputation, not to mention a United States Army officer and a gentleman. I’m sure his family emergency has nothing to do with the missing weapons.”
“Sir, you’ll understand if we tell you that it’s our responsibility to investigate anything we think may be related to these missing weapons,” Lyons said.
“I know your responsibilities, Mr. Irons.”
