“Yeah, Jason, I remember… hmm.”
“Oh,” said Connor.
“You may have hit on something requiring consideration,” said McLeod.
Rhonda jumped in immediately.
“You know, I’ve wondered about that myself the past few years, never seeing a baby… or anything younger than when the Flu hit.”
“But, that means… umm, that means,” mumbled Connor.
Rhonda gently approached Connor, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah,” said Rhonda, “Connor Mac, you think you can tell us a little bit about the last few women you’ve spent some time with during the past year or two?”
“Aw, no shit.”
CHAPTER 5.13-The Innocent School Girl Look
“I don’t trust him,” said Colonel Starkes, deep in thought.
Absently, she stared out the front doors of the Hall of Fame, standing at the escalators on the second floor.
“Care to elaborate, ma’am?”
It was early morning, September first, and seven days had passed since the dinner extravaganza put on at the Hilton. Presently, their daily breakfast was arriving up the entrance walkway delivered by a small, gas powered golf cart, and compliments of Phoenix. The slow, puttering of the golf cart engine had become a familiar sound at six o’clock each morning; something the men had grown quite accustomed to during the past week. From a distance of thirty feet or so, the colonel swore she smelled the cinnamon coming off the hot buns stored beneath the blanketed baskets. She walked down the escalators and through the main doors into the fresh air. Mouth watering in spite of herself, she made the effort to maintain a clear, objective analysis of the current circumstances.
“Are you seeing all this fuckin’ crap, Mike?”
Beside her, Major O’Malley took immediate note of the informal use of his name and atypical use of profanity, ignoring the breakfast wagon. The colonel had only used his first name a handful of times during the past few years. He shifted into high mental gear, alert and prepared.
“Ma’am? Care to elaborate?”
The major had come to recognize that now was probably one of those times when the colonel was expending a great deal of energy trying to refine military tactics or strategy. He knew she needed to express her convictions in the open air; it was times like these that he’d had learned to cherish, both for the sense of being her confidante, and for the intricate mentoring it gave him in the finer arts of military strategy.
“Yeah, major, I’ll fill you in, but only after sweet little Suzie there is finished doling out breakfast biscuits, flirting cute as hell.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Wow! What is it with men and the innocent school-girl look?”
The colonel shook her head in dismay. Major O’Malley knew no response was required and they both took to studying the effect the gorgeous nineteen-year-old, clad in a short plaid skirt and white blouse, had on the eager men gathering around the cart. Her giggling had the men smiling.
“Hmm,” said Major O’Malley.
“Go help ’em out, major. Though, I might suggest you keep an eye on Suzie and the subtle questions she keeps asking everyday about our tactical and operational status.”
“Sure thing.”
The colonel grabbed his arm lightly, stopping his stride, lowering her voice.
“And take note at how well she scans the grounds, the men, and their weapons. The woman’s a well-trained Nikon camera. Come get me when you’re done.”
“Is this why you’ve stood here every morning?” whispered Major O’Malley. He was beginning to change perspective on the morning meal. Smiling, Colonel Starkes politely waved at Suzie and purposefully ignored the major, before reentering the building. Twenty minutes later, Major O’Malley returned to the command post to find the colonel reviewing the early morning reconnaissance report prepared by the night patrol of Edgars and Rice. An hour before, he’d read the same nighttime activity report with the colonel, familiar with the contents. Careful not to interrupt her intense concentration, he sat in a nearby chair, waiting. Finally, the wait was unbearable.
“Ma’am?”
Thinking back on the report, he’d not found anything particularly disturbing, but he wondered if he’d missed something. The colonel spoke, her eyes not rising from the report.
“Rice says he sensed someone was in the ball bearing warehouse 200 clicks southeast.”
Major O’Malley sighed at the comment. Rice was known for ‘seeing things’ that were usually not there, though admittedly, in a few cases, his intuition had saved them an ambush or two through the years. Most often, it simply caused the major and his men to waste time searching for ghosts.
“Rice has been known to see a ghost or two, especially at night, ma’am.”
“I reassessed the windows of that warehouse again this morning.”
“When?” asked Major O’Malley. He sensed the colonel’s unease.
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“So?”
“C’mon. Follow me.”
All business, Colonel Starkes carried a huge pair of Zeiss binoculars, leading him to the rooftop. Exiting onto the roof, she nodded to Lieutenants Donnie Winters and Tim McDonald standing guard.
“Back again, ma’am? Something we should know about?” asked Lieutenant Winters.
“Not yet, lieutenant.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The colonel walked a few feet with the major, before she stopped and turned. She studied Lieutenant McDonald.
“Oh, and Lieutenant McDonald?”
Tim McDonald stood straighter at the mention of his name. Though by far the youngest member of their unit, he was brought along for his uncanny sniper skills.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I want you stay extra sharp this next week.”
“Yes, ma’am. I will.”
“Bring your ‘A’ game. Am I clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That goes for you too, Donnie.”
“Always, ma’am.”
The colonel handed the binoculars to her second-in-command while the two lieutenants stared after the pair. The colonel and major settled on the southern corner of the roof near a non-functioning air conditioning unit.
“Take a gander, major.”
Colonel Starkes handed the binoculars to the major who scanned the three-story warehouse, seeing nothing unusual. Another scan complete, he lowered the binoculars.
“Yeah, so. Nothing’s out of the ordinary. No one’s there.”
“Top floors. See the window four across from the left? See the missing windowpane?”
Analyzing the building, he discovered the missing windowpane. He glanced at the colonel and felt her fierce stare. Quickly, she snatched the binoculars from his hands and returned to studying the warehouse. Concerned, the major wondered if the colonel was shifting into some level of abnormal paranoia. Perhaps, he should recommend that she pay better attention to her sleep regime. He knew, from several men guarding her room each night that she was not sleeping well, since settling in at the Hall of Fame.
“Yeah, so? There are at least thirty broken windows on that side of the building. You know we’ve gone and checked out that building twice in the past week on your orders. Last night was the third.”
“Take another look, major,” said Colonel Starkes, slapping the binoculars at his chest.
“Okay, ma’am.”
“That busted window’s new, major. I’ve kept track using the drawing right here in my pocket. That window was busted out for optimal viewing of this building last night, but with easy access to the internal stairwell should it be required to leave in a damn hurry.”
“Huh.”
“I’m tellin’ you that window was removed last night. Sergeant Rice was correct in sensing the presence of someone in that building.”