tropical Hollywood tableau of jungle and napalm. To his parents, it was a cautionary tale about American militarism and hubris, and Reginald Brodie himself was reduced to nothing more than a check mark on the ledger of wasted lives.
Brodie had often wondered what his death in Iraq would do to his parents. When a platoon-mate took Brodie’s picture with his cell phone, he’d sometimes wondered if it was the image his parents would look at to remember him, to frame on the wall, maybe send to the local paper with his obit. Or maybe they would try to forget, the way his father had with his brother Reggie, whose memories were stuffed away in a shoebox in the basement.
Scott Brodie had survived the war and come home. But there were no war stories, and no questions asked around the farmhouse table. Which was just as well.
His parents, however, were elated when he transferred to the CID. Good old-fashioned detective work. No more killing, no more danger.
Taylor broke into his reverie. “It’s one hour.” She looked at her cell phone. “That thatched structure should be around the next bend, then the mudflat.”
“Good. Take a few pictures. We’ll end our debrief with those shots. Then you’ll say, ‘We believe, based on the testimony of a reliable hooker, that Captain Mercer’s camp is a fifteen-minute walk into that jungle.’ ”
She forced a smile. “I’ll let you have the last word.”
“You take the first question.”
He followed the curving bend in the river, staying close to the shore. He said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“All right…”
“Now that we’re at the end of this recon, and now that our safe return is in some doubt, I’d like to know what was in your overnight bag, aside from your knickers and your Snickers.”
They made eye contact, and Taylor said, “I could lie to you and if we don’t make it back to Kavak, you’d never know.”
“That’s why I need you to tell me.”
“All right… Well, I was given something to take with me.”
“By whom?”
“By… friends of Trent.”
“Not a complete surprise. When?”
“The day before we met with General Hackett.”
“Apparently they knew you were going on a trip.”
She nodded. “They knew before we did.”
This was getting interesting, and maybe complicated, so Brodie steered toward the shore, killed the engine, and tilted the prop out of the water as their momentum put the bow into the thick growth along the bank. “Tie it up.”
Taylor wrapped the bow line around an overhanging branch, and the boat swung starboard in the current and held fast against the shore.
Brodie looked at her in the shadows. “What did they give you?”
“A… it’s called a Garmin inReach.” She looked at him. “Do you know what that is?”
“I can guess.”
“It allows two-way texting via satellite to sat phones or cell phones, independent of any cell network.”
“That was a nice going-away present.”
She continued, “It can also transmit lat long.”
“Photos?”
“No. But exceptional battery life.”
“Where can I get one of these?”
“In my overnight bag. I left it there.”
“We could have used it here. But—oh, you didn’t know you were going on a river cruise with me.”
“I wouldn’t have taken it anyway.”
“Really?”
“I’ve never used it… never even turned it on.”
“Not even a commo check?”
“Scott… look at me. I never used it.”
“Then why did you take it?”
“If I didn’t take it, I’d still be back in Quantico.”
“And that’s where you should be.”
“No. I want to be here.”
“No, they wanted you to be here.”
She didn’t respond.
Well, this seemed to be the conclusion of her coerced multi-part confession. Unless she was about to confess that she’d been instructed to whack him, and was seriously considering it. At this point, he could inform her that she was in violation of several articles of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, and he could also ask for her weapon. But considering they were heading up shit’s creek with two paddles and a small motor, her gun would be better off in her pocket than his.
“Scott… say something.”
“You’ll need to answer for this when we get back.”
“I will. If we get back.”
He was glad now that he hadn’t slept with her. That would complicate his report to Dombroski. He looked at her. “Do you understand what you did?”
“I do. But… I didn’t do anything.”
“You agreed to conspire with another government agency. Same as you did in Afghanistan.”
“I agreed to take the tracking device with me. I never used it. Never sent a text, never—”
“And you understood the criminal conspiracy that Trent and his colleagues were trying to