The electric lantern flickered for a moment, then swung slightly from side to side. Goose watched it with interest.
“I’ve held dying soldiers in my arms.” Miller’s voice cracked. “Watched young men die scared and in pain. I’ve tended women who’d been raped and savaged by enemy soldiers-or even by men whose eternal salvation I was supposed to secure. I’ve buried children in Iraq, Kosovo, South Korea, and a handful of countries in Africa.” He blew out a breath. “At some point I started asking myself if this was truly God’s work.”
“Momma always said the devil was loose in the world,” Goose said. “She told me he was the reason bad things happen to folks.”
Miller nodded. “Your mother was right, of course. But somewhere in that, I lost sight of it. But it’s not just Satan. It’s men. They have free will. They can choose to be close to God or distant from Him. I suspect a lot of them get out of the habit of making that choice or figure once they make it that they don’t have to tend to the relationship.”
Goose studied the pain he saw etched on the chaplain’s face. Men who talked of war had such looks. Goose had seen it in his own face every now and again. “You could have gotten out of the military a long time ago,” Goose pointed out.
Miller grinned wryly. “I could have. You could have too. Why didn’t you?”
“Ain’t in me to be anything other than what I am.”
“The private security sector has grown a lot over the last few years. You could have signed on with a firm, got a bigger paycheck, and been closer to home. Probably been home more often.”
“Yes, sir. It’s been pointed out to me. I’ve had offers. Men I’ve trained are there now.”
“So why didn’t you do that?”
Goose reflected on the reasons for a moment. He’d never thought about it too deeply because he’d never been interested in leaving the army. “Because, sir, I never quit on anything I’ve ever set my mind on. And at the end of the day, I serve a flag, a country, and a way of life. Not some corporate bottom line.”
“Do you think life is that simple?”
“ My life is. I keep it simple.”
Miller smiled. “No wonder you’re so well liked.”
That embarrassed Goose. He shook his head. “My job isn’t to be liked. I just do what I’m told to do.”
“Except when you don’t.”
“Yes, sir. But I’ll stand to take the fall for that.”
Leaning back, Miller looked around the cellar. “Yet for all that, here you sit under house arrest.”
Goose remained silent.
“Actually,” Miller went on, “it’s worse than that. If the armed men guarding the cellar entrance are any indication.”
“The captain’s just keeping me honest.”
“Do you really think that’s what those men are there for?”
“I wasn’t trained to second-guess a commanding officer,” Goose said.
“You may have to, Sergeant.” Miller’s voice came a little harder now. “The men out there ready to champion you aren’t happy with how things are going. Most of them aren’t sure that circumstances back home are safe for their families. In fact, most of them have lost family. Just like you lost your son.”
Goose winced. He forced himself to breathe as an image of Chris momentarily filled his thoughts. Guilt hammered him when he told himself he had to quit thinking about his son at the moment. For that split second, he rebelled against being a soldier. Then he grew calm.
“You know,” Miller said, “if you think about it, maybe this next seven years of unrest and horror we’re about to face is God putting all of us under house arrest. We’re here by choice, and we’re going to have to work our way through it.”
“If you want to believe that, you go on ahead.”
“Can you think of another reason everything’s happened as it has?”
Goose didn’t say anything.
“This isn’t a good time to be without answers,” Miller went on.
“I know that, but I don’t have any.”
“The men-many of them-trust you, Goose. They believe you care about them and have their best interests at heart. They don’t feel the same way about Captain Remington.”
“Then they’re making a mistake. He’s a good man.”
“I don’t doubt that you believe that,” Miller replied. “But with you sitting here in this cellar, maybe you can see how some of them would begin to doubt it.”
Goose folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the earthen wall. He could see how men would think that. Remington, for whatever reason, had made a critical mistake.
“What makes it worse,” Miller said, “is that the man who killed Corporal Baker hasn’t yet been found.”
“The captain has a detail looking for the person or persons who did that.”
“Why aren’t you on that detail?”
“Captain Remington felt I’d serve the company better elsewhere.”
Miller regarded Goose for a moment. “Then the captain has made another error in judgment. The men want you investigating Corporal Baker’s murder.”
“We don’t know that it was a murder.” Goose automatically repeated the line Remington had taken on the incident. “It could have been a tragic mistake.”
“Strange that we haven’t had a tragic mistake before or since. Don’t you think?”
“This is a war zone, Chaplain. Things happen out here that don’t happen during peacetimes.”
Miller’s gaze pierced Goose. “Do you think Corporal Baker’s death was a tragic mistake, Sergeant?”
Goose tried to answer immediately that it was. But the words got stuck in his throat. By the time he got the way clear, it was too late.
“I don’t think so either,” Miller said. “Corporal Baker wasn’t liked by Captain Remington. His efforts to tend to the men’s religious needs were not appreciated.” He took a breath. “It shames me that I wasn’t one of those leading the men in prayer. Instead, I was drawn to Corporal Baker and looked to him for answers I should have known myself.”
Hanging from the rafter, the electric lantern shimmied. Light wavered throughout the cellar. Uneasiness descended on Goose. He checked his watch.
“It’s morning outside, right?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“We got clear visibility?”
Miller nodded and looked slightly puzzled.
The lantern vibrated again. A puff of dust descended from the wooden crossbeams that shored up the earthen ceiling.
“What’s wrong?” Miller asked.
Goose nodded at the lantern. “Vibration like that, coming steady, means we got armored cav moving around somewhere.”
“We don’t have many tanks or Bradleys here.”
“I know. I’m crossing my fingers that it’s just earth tremors.”
“Wouldn’t they be noticed by someone else in the camp?”
“Not necessarily.”
“I thought the nearest Syrian armor was days from here.”
“That was according to the last reports.” Goose stood. The pain in his leg flared to renewed life, and he winced. “Captain Remington’s kept the scouts pulled back, and we’re not doing any air recon because our pilots have been sitting ducks for entrenched Syrian ack-ack guns.”
The antiaircraft guns had knocked down five scout planes in the last two weeks. Air support was as hard to come by as armored cav, and Remington didn’t want any of it squandered.
“We’ve been working blind south of the border,” Goose went on. “Satellite recon has been iffy.”
The lantern swung wider this time.
“Excuse me,” Goose said. He limped up the stairs carved into the earth. At the top, he rapped on the door
