Chapter 8: The General Who Should Be in Washington
A corporal had just said the V-17 code was on his statement too, when the doors opened hard.
Brigadier General Arthur Thorne walked in, cap in hand, smile already prepared.
"Well," he said. "This looks serious for lunch."
Nobody laughed. Sterling snapped to attention, his chair scraping.
"Sir," Sterling said. "I have the situation contained."
"Do you?" Thorne said mildly. "It looks contained the way a fire looks contained, Major."
He looked at me, and his smile thinned. He knew my face.
"Colonel Vance," he said. "This is unexpected."
"You know her, sir?" Sterling asked.
"I know of her," Thorne said. "Washington sends many people many places."
"General," I said, "your official schedule places you in Washington today. Briefings, through Friday."
"Schedules change, Colonel."
"Yours was published this morning," I said. "It still says Washington."
"And yet here I am," he said, spreading his hands. "Soldiers, relax. Sit down. Eat."
"Sir," Hayes said, half risen, "with respect, we were in the middle of something."
"Sergeant Hayes, is it?" Thorne said. "Then let us finish it calmly. What I heard from the doorway sounds like a misunderstanding that got loud."
"It was not a misunderstanding," I said.
"Colonel," he said, gentle now, "a crowded room. A dropped canteen. Tempers. Discipline, perhaps clumsily enforced."
"He shoved my face into a tray, General," I said. "In front of eighty witnesses."
"And that was wrong, if it happened as described," he said. "Major Sterling will apologize. We will review conduct quietly, through channels."
"I will not apologize for disciplining a fraud," Sterling said.
"Major," Thorne said, iron under the velvet, "you will do as I suggest, when I suggest it."
Sterling stared at him. "Sir, she came in with no insignia, nothing. She assaulted me."
"Did she?" Thorne asked. "Sergeant Hayes. Did the colonel assault Major Sterling?"
Hayes stood fully. His hands were steady.
"No, sir," Hayes said. "She stepped between the major and Private Miller. She never touched him. He put her face in her food, sir."
"Thank you, Sergeant," Thorne said. "You see? A misunderstanding of contact. It will be corrected on the record."
"General," I said, "this man ordered my arrest on a charge he invented. These soldiers are confirming deductions coded V-17, for loans many never received. That is not a misunderstanding either."
Thorne stepped closer, lowering his voice, except the room was so quiet everyone heard.
"Let us not turn this into a theater," he said. "My staff will cooperate. In private. Through channels."
"You had channels," Brenda said from the serving line.
Thorne turned. "Mrs. Carter?"
"Nineteen years in this room, General," Brenda said. "These kids asked through channels. Eleven got threatened for asking."
"I understand feelings run high," Thorne said.
"No, sir," she said. "You understand feelings run quiet. That was the whole arrangement."
The doors opened again.
Agent Marcus Shaw came in with four federal agents, credentials out, moving like men who had rehearsed the room. Tall, unhurried, he looked at Sterling, Thorne, and finally me.
"Colonel Vance," Shaw said. "Are you injured?"
"No, Agent Shaw," I said.
"Good." He held up his identification. "Special Agent Marcus Shaw, federal response team lead. Everyone stay seated. Nobody leaves. Nobody deletes anything. Clear?"
"Crystal, Agent," Hayes said, and sat.
Thorne recovered first. "Agent Shaw, welcome to Camp Vora. We can resolve this internally and spare everyone a spectacle."
"I am sure you were, General," Shaw said dryly. "That option ended about twenty minutes ago."
"On whose authority?" Thorne asked.
"Mine, for a start," Shaw said. An agent handed him a folder. He looked at Sterling.
"Major Thomas Sterling," Shaw said, "you are suspended from duty and command authority at Camp Vora, pending federal investigation into payroll fraud, retaliation, and assault of a federal investigator."
Sterling laughed once, without humor. "You cannot suspend me on her word."
"I am not," Shaw said. "I am suspending you on bank records, payroll data, and witness statements. Your word is the one thing I do not need."
"General," Sterling said, "tell him who runs this base."
Thorne said nothing.
"Major," Shaw said, "put your hands where I can see them."
"You are making a mistake," Sterling said. "You think this started with me? You think I built this?"
"Hands," Shaw repeated.
Two agents stepped in. Sterling did not resist, but he kept Thorne in sight while the cuffs clicked shut.
"You sat in Washington this morning, did you not, General?" Sterling said, smiling wide and wild. "Ask him where he really was last night. Ask him where the trucks go."
"Major, be silent," Thorne said sharply.
"Why?" Sterling shouted, as they started him toward the doors. "I kept your secrets, Arthur. I kept all of them." He twisted against the agents, looked straight at Thorne, and laughed. "Ask Thorne about Building Twelve."