She nodded and looked at Mercer. “First, are you Kyle Mercer, a captain in the United States Army?”
“I am Kyle Mercer. I have resigned my commission—so I don’t think the Army has any authority over me.”
“For the record, Captain, the Army has not accepted your resignation.”
Mercer stared at her, then looked at Brodie. “How does the Army know I resigned?”
Brodie replied, “We saw the tape you made.”
Mercer seemed genuinely happy about that. “I was afraid it wouldn’t make it to Bagram.”
“It did. And to the Pentagon. Maybe even the White House.”
“That’s good. And you both saw it?”
“We did.”
Mercer leaned forward in his chair. “Do you want me to tell you how I turned the tables on those bastards and cut off their fucking heads?”
Taylor replied, “We do. But we can’t continue this conversation until I read you your rights.”
Brodie thought she should let Mercer talk about a subject that obviously excited him—decapitation—but Taylor played it by the book.
Mercer seemed bemused and motioned for her to continue.
Taylor informed him, “You have the right to remain silent, and anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.” She asked, “Do you understand the rights I have just said to you?”
“I do.”
“With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to us?”
“Actually, I want you to speak to me.”
“All right,” said Brodie, “let me speak to you about your thug standing behind you, Emilio. He sexually abused Ms. Taylor by making her strip naked in front of him.”
Taylor said, “Scott—”
“Let Captain Mercer respond.”
Mercer nodded as though he had a good response. “A strip search is not abuse, it is standard procedure when a suspect—or a POW—is apprehended, especially if a weapon is found on them. I’m sure you know that, and I’m sure the CID engages in this practice.” He continued, “I’m sorry there’s no matron here—only whores—but if Mr. Brodie was present at the strip search, then there’s your required chaperone.” He looked at Brodie. “Were you present?”
Brodie didn’t reply.
“Knowing Emilio’s predilections, I’m sure you were.” He smiled, then looked at Taylor. “Did Emilio touch you in any way?”
Taylor did not reply, so Mercer looked over his shoulder and said something in Spanish to Emilio, who managed to shake his head while alternately glaring at Taylor and Brodie.
Mercer turned back to Taylor. “It seems everything was done properly except he should have given you a body cavity search.” He added nonchalantly, “That is the least of your problems today.”
Which, Brodie knew, was true. But he had gotten Mercer to react to a complaint like a commanding officer. Mercer was doing it to amuse himself, for sure, but if Brodie spoke to him as an officer and a gentleman—instead of a homicidal renegade—Brodie hoped he would respond accordingly, even if Mercer seriously didn’t give a shit.
“For the record, Captain, I was not strip-searched, so your defense of Emilio’s behavior is bullshit.”
“Scott—”
“Here’s a tip, Captain—if you let your troops get out of control, you lose their respect.”
“I don’t need advice from you or anyone on how to command troops.” He suggested, “You shouldn’t antagonize Emilio—he’ll be your warden for the time you’re here—short as it may be.”
