“Zero’s really looking forward to seeing you,” Bones said.
Joey almost threw up what little breakfast he’d managed to choke down. “We don’t have anything to talk about,” Joey said.
“Zero don’t see it that way. He wants to make sure you understand things.”
“The last time I saw Zero, he tried to kill me.”
Bones shrugged. “Yeah, well, he’s sorry about that.”
Sorry that he didn’t kill me? That was the only way Joey could see it. “There’s nothing to understand,” he said.
“Zero thinks there is. He wants to meet with you and explain how things are.”
“How are they?” Joey demanded.
“He don’t want you going to the police.”
“I haven’t.”
“ Ever going to the police.”
“I can’t,” Joey said. “I’ll be arrested and tried for murder too.”
Bones grinned. “Smart thinking. You keep thinking like that, you’re going to stay alive.”
That didn’t make Joey feel any more relaxed.
“Zero still wants to talk to you,” Bones said.
“I don’t want to talk to him.”
“Too bad. We’re gonna be outside the rec center here in camp at eight tonight.”
“I’m not coming.”
Bones frowned. “That would be stupid. If you don’t show up, Zero’s going to come looking for you. You don’t want any of your friends hurt, do you? Or your mom?”
Joey felt panic swell in his chest. His heart pounded, and he felt dizzy. Even if he knew what to say, he wasn’t sure he could speak. The nightmares he’d been having were coming true.
“Eight p.m.” Bones held up four extra-long, extra-skinny fingers on each hand. “Be there. Don’t make us come looking for you.” He turned and walked away.
Weak and dizzy, Joey leaned against the bike rack and tried to think. He didn’t know how everything had gotten so messed up. He closed his eyes and was once more in the trunk of the Cadillac Zero had stolen. They’d intended to take him back to one of the empty houses and kill him because they didn’t trust him. Joey had managed to escape, and they’d shot at him several times before he vanished into the night.
Now they were here, and he didn’t doubt they’d try to kill him again.
10
United States 75th Army Rangers Outpost
Harran
Sanliurfa Province, Turkey
Local Time 0543 Hours
“Sergeant Gander?”
Goose came awake instantly. He’d been dozing, not really sleeping. The army had taught him to do that. Soldiers rested when they could and slept when they were able. He’d woken at mess call and received a tray from the guards at his door.
“Yeah?” Goose swung his feet off the field cot and sat up. Lieutenant Swindoll hadn’t been any too generous with the accommodations of the house arrest Remington had imposed. The local warlords attacked on a regular basis, hoping to drive the entrenched American soldiers from the city so they could loot it at will. As a result, clean housing was at a premium. Goose occupied a cellar under a dilapidated house that looked ready to fall at any moment.
“Chaplain Miller. We’ve met.”
“Yes, sir.” Goose got to his feet. Miller was a captain.
“Might I have a word with you?”
“Of course, sir.”
Miller came down the steep stairs with a bright electric lantern fisted before him. The light hurt Goose’s eyes, and he looked away instinctively to preserve what night vision he could.
“Sorry.” Miller turned the lantern down to a dim glow. “I didn’t think about what that was going to do to you.”
“It’s all right, sir.” Goose saluted and stood at attention.
“At ease, Goose. This is just a visit.” Miller was in his fifties, a lifer in the Rangers who-scuttlebutt had it-just couldn’t step away from the military. He was thin and leathery, with a seamed, plain face, a hooked nose that looked like it had been broken in the past, and shaggy gray eyebrows over deep-set eyes.
Goose automatically dropped into parade rest.
“Take a load off, Sergeant. This is totally informal.”
“Yes, sir.” Goose hesitated. “There’s not much in the way of comfort, sir. I’m not exactly set up for guests here.”
Miller surveyed the small room. It stank of damp earth and was roughly seven feet cubed. The field cot took up one whole wall. Shelves containing canned goods took up another. Sacks of rotting potatoes sat on the floor. Bags of onions hung suspended from the low ceiling.
“This is ridiculous. Until I got here, I had no idea your quarters were this bad.”
“It’s dry.”
Miller shook his head. “I can’t believe Captain Remington has decided this is in the best interests of these men.” He breathed out heavily. “Scratch that. In the best interests of his command.”
“The captain has his own view of things, sir.” Goose felt strangely self-conscious of his surroundings, as if he were to blame for their meagerness and his inability to be more hospitable.
“He certainly does, and I must tell you, it’s not a popular view.” Miller hung the lantern from one of the hooks. The dim light chased most of the shadows from the room.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean several of the soldiers-men you came in with as well as soldiers on-site here-are starting to talk about liberating you.”
Goose shook his head. “That’s nonsense, sir. I’d appreciate if you’d give those men a message from me and let them know they need to stay out of this.”
“I’ll do that, but I don’t think it’ll do much good. I’ve already counseled against anything like that.”
“Tell them I fight my own battles.” Goose’s voice hardened. “Tell them if they come in here without me being relieved by the captain himself, that they’ll have to fight me too.”
Miller smiled ruefully. “They know that. They’ve talked about that among themselves. Truthfully, I think that’s the only thing keeping them out of here now.”
Wearily Goose wiped at his face with a hand. His beard stubble crackled against his rough hand. “Me and the captain, we’ve been crossways before. We’ve always seen it through all right.”
“Not to intrude into your personal business too much,” Miller said, “but you’ve never been under house arrest before.”
“No, sir, I reckon not.” Goose’s cheeks burned a little in embarrassment at that. During the seventeen years he’d been an army Ranger, he’d never once been called on the carpet like this.
“Why do you think Captain Remington acted the way he did?”
“I disobeyed a command. I was to stay with the convoy. I didn’t. Men were lost-good men.”
“You helped a village.”
“I fell for bait in a trap.”
“Have a seat.” Miller waved Goose to the cot, then pulled over a barrel from the shelves.
Reluctantly, Goose sat.
“We need to talk about what you’re going to do.” The electric lantern light softened Miller’s features and
