The Last Handful of Clover - Book 3: The Stone in the Stream

3.27 His Right Hand

June 16, 1:03 pm

Corporal Susan Jarvis saw her commanding officer's Jeep as it pulled up outside of their office in the Ditto. She breathed a huge sigh of relief, promising herself that she would not let Commander Deary see exactly how worried she had been for the past twenty-four hours.

Susan Jarvis was Sutton Deary's assistant and (she liked to think) his right hand. She'd been in the army for twenty years, and had worked directly for Sergeant Major Deary for more than half of them. Jarvis was a career military officer whose responsibilities at the Ditto went far beyond just getting her boss coffee and answering his e-mail. For the past decade, she'd been at Deary's side, and her security oversight role in the chemical weapons testing and CBRN facilities was known and respected, both up and down the chain of command.

As she watched Commander Deary making his way up the wooden walkway to the door of the administrative center, she hoped that his return would bring some normality back to the nightmare they had all been through for the past twenty-four hours. When everything went to shit the previous afternoon she had tried to contact Deary, but he didn't answer his phone or her repeated texts. To her surprise, she learned that he'd checked out a jeep and headed into town the night before. Nobody on the base knew why. And as the afternoon had progressed and things had gotten steadily worse in Salt Lake, she had worried that he'd been caught up in the violence. Or even that he had been killed. When the troops at the WDTC went on alert, she could no longer put off telling the brass that the Commander was missing. But, as it ended up, a missing mid-level commander was the least of their worries, and as the base prepared to be mobilized, she was unceremoniously put in full control of the Ditto's internal security.

As the sun was setting, the base got the word they had been expecting, and for which they had been preparing for much of the afternoon. Salt Lake City was going under martial law, and soldiers and National Guardsmen from bases around the state would be deployed to keep the peace in the city. That deploy order had emptied the military personnel from the Ditto, the airfield, and the associated military barracks. Only a few security guards and the scientists and support personnel remained, and they had been on lockdown throughout the night.

The hours until dawn were marked mainly by what felt to Susan like an oppressive silence, and a darkness that even the floodlights around the Ditto could not keep at bay. The responsibility for the security of the research facility weighed heavily on her shoulders through those dark hours, and she'd slept fitfully in their shared office. Dawn had finally come, but the oppressive sense of doom had not dispersed.

But now that Deary's back, she thought, maybe I can take a breather...

Sergeant-Major Deary was a good boss, if somewhat by-the-book and bureaucratic. He was extremely capable, respected her, and had always treated her well. She knew he was a loner, with no family to call his own. But he loved his work and was well respected by everyone at the Ditto. And his relationship with Susan had always been warm and less formal than was typical of military culture.

"Jesus Christ, Deary!" she said as the man tromped wearily into the air-conditioned office, leaning more heavily on his cane than usual. "I thought you were dead! I've been trying to call your cell phone since yesterday afternoon! Where the hell have you been?"

Deary gave her a mischievous smile, but behind it she could sense the weariness and stress that he was carrying. She could only imagine what he had been through in Salt Lake City.

"Sorry, Susan," Deary said, shrugging off his army jacket and hanging up his cane. "But you wouldn't believe the shit I've seen in the past twenty-four hours. I just went into Salt Lake for a little R&R. But all hell broke loose."