Security arrived, a major Morrison had never met and two techs. “I’m Major Hong. What’s the problem, then?” he asked.
Morrison explained. “So I had my clerk call Security and we’ve both been here, outside, since.”
“Had you opened the envelope?”
“No, sir. As per protocol, I brought it into my office, locked the door, and engaged the local scan. At the alarm, I vacated the office and told Corporal Gorse to call Security.”
“When were you last in your office?”
“Three—no, four days ago, before I left on assignment.”
“And what was that assignment?”
“Sir, that assignment was classified and I cannot discuss it here.”
“I see. Who was commanding?”
“Colonel Asimin Nedari, sir. It was a Joint Services mission.”
“Do you know if he’s on base?”
“No, sir. We got back late yesterday afternoon, and I left right away to pick up my dog from boarding and do some grocery shopping.”
“So you didn’t stop by the office here?”
“No, sir.”
He looked through the open door. “Is that your debugger on the desk?”
“Yes, sir. I turned it off when it signaled a breach.”
“Good. What level of security was the document?”
“Level Two.”
“Umm. Well, we need to find you a secure place to read it. Unless you’re sure it can wait until tomorrow.”
“It’s most likely one of two things, sir. A copy of the committee report to be filed in this office’s safe, or a copy of some courts-martial reports I’ve been expecting from Dorland. Neither would be urgent. Of course I won’t know for sure until I read it.”
“When did it arrive?”
“Corporal Bannister logged it in—Molly, what’s the time on the log?”
“1730, Sergeant Major.”
“And what time did you arrive today?”
He should have seen that on the front desk log. “About 1115; I signed in here at 1117.”
A shrill whine came from her office. One of the techs had gone in and turned on the security cylinder. “Sir, it’s showing a serious breach.”
“How serious?”
“Multiple sources: audio and video.”
“Hold where you are; don’t touch anything else.” He turned to Morrison. “Sergeant Major, I’m going to suggest you leave the area; a serious breach means we have to do a forensic search in your office and in both offices on either side. You’ll be out of your office for hours—any personal gear you’ll need?”
“Sir, I should secure the routine paperwork that’s on my desk. If your tech could bring it out, Corporal Gorse can file it, or we can lock it in the black box.”
“That’s not a good idea. Someone’s seriously interested in your office—and maybe others—and I do not consider this box secure enough for the rest of the weekend. Did you check it with your cylinder?”
“Check the box? No, sir, it never occurred to me.”
“Wouldn’t have occurred to me without cause, either, Sergeant Major.” He turned to the door. “Tim, bring all those papers on the sergeant major’s desk, and her security cylinder, out here.” To Morrison he added, “If your cylinder and mine find that the box is compromised, we’ll have to turn this entire building upside down to find out if others are. And if it’s just you, we’ll have to find out why.” He pulled out his own cylinder and passed it around the classified safe. “Nothing so far. Would you open it please, Sergeant Major?”
“Sir, if you will stand over there.”
“Of course.”
Morrison opened the safe and removed the blue envelope, still with its seal intact, and left the safe open. The major reached his cylinder into the box; it lit up.
“This is very disturbing,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ll have to keep you and your corporal awhile longer, Sergeant Major. We need to get that”—he nodded at the blue envelope in her hand—“to a secure location, but if safes are being tapped—I think it’s time to call my boss.”
“Sir,” Morrison said, “with all due respect, is it not likely that the orders to add surveillance to my office—and perhaps others—came from higher up in Security?”
He looked startled for a moment. “That’s—no. You’re right. Let me think. The safety of that document is paramount. You cannot take it out of the building, but I am certain that the central Administration safe is not bugged, and even if it is, all you’re going to do is put that document inside. I will call for an escort; you and your corporal will take it there, sign it in, and you will take the other paperwork to—do you have a safe at your residence?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. You can take those out of the building to work on at home. We are going to tear your office apart this weekend and hope to have it ready by 0900—what time do you usually come in?”
“0730, sir, but I can call ahead.”
“Do that.” He held up his hand, accessing his skullphone, murmured his message to the Administration central office. “Someone will be down shortly. If you and Corporal Gorse will clear this area of anything you need—”
“My jacket, sir,” Morrison said. Her jacket and Gorse’s both hung in the small closet to one side of the office. Gorse also had a sack.
“My galoshes, sir,” Gorse said, when Hong’s brows lifted. “The forecast said it might rain later, and I’m on duty until 1530 today.” She opened the sack and revealed a pair of shiny pink galoshes.
“They’re not regulation, Corporal,” Morrison said before the major could say anything.
“I know, Sergeant Major. But they’re really waterproof and it’s a long way from the junior NCO parking area to my quarters, and my service galoshes leak. I do have a coat in the car that covers my uniform…”
Stifling an urge to laugh, Morrison said, “You need to learn how to find and mend the holes in your service galoshes. There’s some really good sealant—comes in a tube with a blue, red, and yellow label—”
“StickMagic,” one of the techs put in.
“Thank you,” Morrison said. “I’d forgotten the name. You can get it just about anywhere, and it will hold maybe a half year before you have to replace it. It also works on the shoulder seams of your uniform raincoat.”
“Thank you, Sergeant Major… Tech Waldstrom.”
A half hour later, after depositing the blue envelope in the safe upstairs, Morrison and Gorse headed out the front door. No rain, but the bright morning had clouded over. Down the passage on which Morrison’s office was located, techs in white coveralls and bright-yellow gloves were busily doing whatever forensic techs did.
Morrison drove home, let Ginger into the apartment, and talked to her as she might to a person, if she’d been the gabby sort. Her real target was the additional bug Ginger had found. “You would not believe, pup, what happened this morning. It has to be one of the weirdest days in my career, even weirder than the day Corporal Trum got high on whatever that was and came into work carrying a harpoon as a sidearm and wearing nothing but beach shoes and that ridiculous hat. Highlight of my early career for sure.” Corporal P. Trum’s court-martial transcript had gone the rounds of Land Force III Corps to hysterical laughter and was still read aloud to favored juniors by their sergeants. She grinned as she thought of it. Old Colonel Barringer had included every semi-relevant fact.
“Someone’s bugged my office at work. Not the usual, either. Luckily, I’m the steel-rod-up-the-rear sergeant major my reputation suggests—stop, it, Ginger. No dogs surfing the counter! So I always do check my office for bugs, even though there’ve never been any, and this time the thing lit up and whined. Yes, girlie pup, just like you.” She had her late lunch in the skillet by then and bent to ruffle Ginger’s ears, then wiped down the counter and washed her hands. “And so, dog, what have you been doing all this time while your mom worked, other than sleeping and pooping? Granted, I’m home early. Got groceries yesterday… maybe I should go back over to Kris’s and let her stab you for a few cells. Don’t worry, you won’t have to carry a bunch of pups around. That’s what surrogates are for. Or—stay home and do paperwork. Yeah, I’d better do that after lunch.”