“It’s possible. Anything is. We now have another body and no more answers.”
“We have Greer. And maybe Miller. Whatever happened in that training exercise, in that room, it was important to Ames.”
They heard a vehicle roar down the road and screech to a halt outside. They exited the brig to see General Morgan emerge from the passenger side of his Jeep, clouds of dust swirling around him. He wore camo, aviator sunglasses, and a sidearm. His driver turned off the Jeep and stepped out. It was Captain Pickman.
Everyone saluted the general, who approached Sergeant Mendez. He removed his sunglasses, gently placed his hand on Mendez’s shoulder, and said, “I’m so sorry, Hector.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The general put his sunglasses back on, then walked toward the lifeless robot. He stared down at Bucky and asked, “Who has the key?”
Dixon said, “I do.”
He looked up at her, then extended his hand. “Give it to me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m asking for it.”
Caroline stared at the man. “I am not a member of the United States Army, General. So you need to do better than that.”
Morgan kept his eyes on her and his arm outstretched. “Captain.”
Captain Pickman strode up to Dixon with that weird eager walk of his, and as he did so, one of the Rangers grabbed Dixon from behind and restrained her.
“Hey! Get your fucking hands off me!”
Pickman put his hand over hers and wordlessly pried her fingers open. She tried to wrest herself out of the Ranger’s hold as she hurled expletives, but it was futile. The key fell to the ground, and Pickman retrieved it. As he stepped away the Ranger released his hold on Dixon, who offered a few more choice words and looked like she was ready to slug someone.
Brodie said to General Morgan, “General, that is no way to treat a civilian.”
Morgan turned to him, as if just noticing he was there. “A civilian? She’s the mother of these titanium golems, Mr. Brodie. Conceived by her brilliance and her arrogance.” He eyed Dixon. “Nowtwoinnocent men are dead. Not one more. I will not allow it.”
Dixon stared at the general and did not reply.
“We agree, sir,” said Brodie. “These weapons are a continued threat to everyone at this camp, and Ms. Taylor and I have lost confidence in the scientific personnel at Camp Hayden to adequately answer our questions about these devices’ origins, design, purpose, and susceptibility to sabotage. Therefore our commanding officer, Brigadier General Dombroski, is coordinating with the Provost Marshal General andMajor General Ramsay of Army Futures Command to take custody of all sixty units to be tested and evaluated by a neutral party at an off-site location. The order should be coming down shortly, if you have not already received it.”
General Morgan gave Brodie an odd look—incredulous, mildly amused, and extremely pissed off. “I have received no such orders, Mr. Brodie. And if I did, I’d question the sanity of whoever issued them. Do you think I’m going to allow these things to fall into some dark recess of the Army bureaucracy, where who the hell knows what will become of them, who will gain knowledge of their existence and capabilities? Absolutely not.” His eyes moved to Taylor. “You want answers. So do I. You don’t trust the science personnel at this facility. Nor do I. Let’s run our own tests and solve our own problems.” He kept his eyes on the two agents as he called out, “Get me Sergeant Miller on the phone.”
Captain Pickman grabbed a satellite phone from inside the Jeep, dialed a number, and waited for Miller to pick up. Then he said, “I have General Morgan,” and handed the general the phone.
Morgan said, “Sergeant, meet me at the parade ground with a few trustworthy Rangers, a plasma cutter, and a grenade launcher. ASAP.” He hung up the phone, then said to Sergeant Mendez, “Release Mr. Saltsberg from his house arrest and bring him to the parade grounds. He should see this. Ms. Dixon, go retrieve your DEVCOM colleagues.”
“Eat a dick, General.”
“I already had breakfast, thank you.”
Brodie said to Morgan, “Sir, I need to use that phone.”
Morgan looked at Brodie. “You’re getting a little ahead of your skis, Mr. Brodie. Futures Command wouldn’t make a move without communicating with me first. Not to mention looping in DARPA. CID is far down the food chain.”
Taylor said, “You’d be surprised how quickly that changes, sir.”
Brodie asked Mendez, “Sergeant, do you have a phone handy?”
Mendez looked nervously between Brodie and Morgan. “Yes, sir.”
Morgan said, “Stop being so dramatic, Brodie. You are not a prisoner here, and no one is denying you a phone call. In fact, you are free to go back to your quarters right now to call whoever you want. Or you can borrow a vehicle and leave the base, for all I care. But you might see something interesting in the next few minutes if you stick around. You might even get some answers.” Morgan looked at the blood-smeared robot lying in the dust. “Training time is over.”
