Major Miller was a tough man, and he didn't want to lethim down. The consequences for disappointing the Major were always harsh andmore often than not mean-spirited. Many of the men hated him, his round, ruddyface always barking out orders amidst a stream of profanity. But he wasn't allbad. When you did a good job, he let you know it, and Bryant had done enoughgood jobs for the Major over the last five years to feel like the man wasn't acomplete asshole. He wasn't about to let him down now.
Bryant moved his hand across the security console, movingthe trackball in his hand back and forth. That wasn't the right camera either.He punched up another camera, one of about a hundred as far as he could tell.This one gave a God's eye view of the concourse. He rewound the footage to twoin the morning and then skimmed through it. His breath caught in his throat ashe saw Private Estep walking into a bathroom. He rewound the footage, just tobe sure. Yep, that was him.
Private Estep was one of those guys that should haveprobably been in prison, but who had found a home in the military where hisdepravity was largely a benefit... when he was on foreign soil. Most of the menhad no love for the man, but he was one of their own, and the prevailingsentiment was that whoever had murdered him had to pay.
Private Bryant rewound the footage and watched as apretty woman waved at the soldier and then entered the bathroom. His stomachturned as he watched Private Estep look up and down the concourse as if he weregoing to cross a street. Seeing no prying eyes, he then headed into thebathroom after the girl, hiking his pants up and smiling like a goon.
He leaned back in his chair and wiped the sweat from hisbrow. He had found it. The footage rolled on, and then he saw a beautifulblonde woman enter the bathroom. He double-timed the footage and watched as thetwo girls came out of the bathroom, a swollen jaw, a disheveled look, and onegirl clutching the other one. He didn't need to see into the bathroom to knowwhat had happened, and he sat back in his chair to think about what he wasgoing to do about it.
On one hand, perhaps Private Estep had gotten what hedeserved. It didn't matter to Bryant that Estep was a"brother-in-arms"; no true brother of his would ever attack a woman.Private Bryant knew that there was no way that the now-deceased soldier wasgoing in there just to take a leak. He was going in there to do some foulbusiness and had gotten what he deserved. But Major Miller wouldn't see it thatway. All Miller would see was a dead soldier. Dead soldiers meant retribution.Retribution meant those girls would have to pay for defending themselves frombeing raped.
Jesus, he thought. He leaned back in his chair andprayed for an answer, hands clasped together under his chin, head bowedforward. He had decided what to do when there was a knock on the door. Hequickly switched the monitor to another channel and then hopped up out of therolling chair that he had been sitting in. He walked over to the office door,turned the knob, and fell flat on his back as the door was slammed backwards.
A man stood above him, business in his eyes. He was athick man, built for trouble, and black stubble framed his square jaw. The manpicked him up off the ground by his shirt, his teeth clenched in a menacingfashion. Private Bryant didn't see the first punch; he didn't see the secondpunch either.
When he woke up, his head was spinning and he was boundand gagged, silver duct tape sealing his mouth. All of the monitors had beensmashed, and the DVD's that stored all of the footage were broken into pieces.Three men and two women were gathered in a circle, speaking in hushed tones.
The blonde girl, the one from the video looked over athim, a suspicious look on her face. "He's awake."
The tall white man looked at him and then spoke to thebald black man, "C'mon, man. You know what we gotta do."
The black man had his back to Private Bryant, and hesaid, "No. I know this man. He's a good man."
"You're out of your mind," the tall white mansaid. "We let this guy walk, and we're dead. He's going to go straight tothat colonel, and it's not just going to be them, it's going to be ustoo."
The fat man whined, "I don't want to die, but Idon't want to kill anyone either."
"No one cares what you want. It's not like you'd bethe one killing him anyway," the blonde girl spat at him.
Bryant grasped the situation, but there was nothing hecould do. They were deciding his fate right in front of him. Underneath theduct tape, he tried to make words, but nothing he tried was intelligible.
"This is the same guy that showed us where theweapons were locked up," the black man said. Now Bryant recognized him.The unwieldy, khaki boots. The bald head. The black man was his only chance."We can't just kill him," he continued.
"Showing us where weapons are and covering our assfor a murder are two entirely different things," the blonde said.
"She's right," the other girl said.
The black man shook his head and then sighed. He lookedat Private Bryant as if to say he was sorry.
"It's decided," the tall white man said. Hepulled a knife from his belt and advanced on the man.
Private Bryant shook his head from side to side and triedas hard as he could to speak.
The white man squatted down and sat in front of him.There was
