“Why do you feel that way?”
“I had the sense that he knew approximately where we were, but because of the bush, heavy fog, and dark night, he couldn’t get a fix on our position or a clear shot.”
Miller wanted to know when they first heard a change in the sniper’s movement. Wade replied, “We were thirty yards from the target when we heard him change positions. He was moving to our right.”
Wade walked to the spot where he’d heard the movement and pointed in the direction the shooter took. The Colonel continued walking slowly down Wade’s crawl path.
“How could you tell he was on the move?”
“I could hear the leaves move under his feet. I also heard several small twigs break. If you look at this terrain, it’s almost impossible to move without making some sound.”
Miller was now in a crouch, rubbing handfuls of leaves in his hands to sense the moisture content and replicate the sounds the shooter may have made before commenting. “The morning sun has already dried out these leaves a little. Was he moving slow or fast at this point?”
“He was moving very slowly, and trying to make as little sound as possible.”
“At what point did you hear the sound pattern change?” The Colonel followed Wade down his crawl path to the larger stand of trees Wade used as cover.
Wade stood behind the trees and pointed to where he’d heard the steps.
“Did you ever catch sight of him?”
“No, sir. By the time I felt certain there was only one individual, he was pretty far away. Max and I followed his path to the edge of an open field and couldn’t see far into the field from that point.”
“Let’s walk over to that field,” said the Colonel.
When the dense undergrowth opened to the field, Wade pointed to the where they had been standing.
“A heavy fog had rolled in, covering the field up to about seven feet high. We didn’t want to take the chance of entering that fog bank unarmed. I suspect the shooter was either in the fog or on the other side in that thicket.”
“Do you have any idea who this shooter might be, or why he targeted you or your men?”
“No, sir, not for sure.”
“What do you mean ‘not for sure’?”
“Well, sir, our team had several run-ins with one of the other team members after we arrived for training, but I have no evidence to suggest the shooting was done by that person or anybody else.”
As the Captain turned to respond to Wade, they heard voices of the approaching forensics team.
“We’re over here,” called Colonel Miller, and he walked twenty feet to meet a uniformed man he introduced as Captain Penata. They exchanged greetings before the Colonel pointed in an arch from the bivouac area to the trees bordering the open field.
“I want the entire area taped off as a crime scene. Have your men walk through it carefully. The shooter’s position was off in that direction, about sixty yards from the bivouac. Hanna here has already marked off several sites for possible foot impressions. I want all the foot impressions taken, and I want that branch with lead fragments brought in and analyzed at the lab. Once you set up your perimeter, I want your men to fine-tooth comb the area looking for any evidence, including spent shells. This was no accident. We have a shooter in our midst in a no-weapons area, and we have to find out who’s responsible for this breach. I’m taking Hanna back with me for debriefing.”
The forensics team was shown the location of the footprints and Wade’s markers, as they walked the path taken by the shooter. When he was satisfied that the team was equipped to handle the detail Miller motioned to his driver to pick them up.
Colonel Miller’s car stopped at the barrack to drop Wade off. “Clean up and grab some chow and be at my office in an hour.”
“Yes, sir.” Wade turned toward the steps of his barrack still amazed at the detail with which Colonel Miller approached the incident. But for some reason he couldn’t identify, he felt anxious, not knowing what would happen next, and wondering where his men were.
Wade opened the door to his barrack to find that the premises had been vacated. All the beds had been stripped, and his duffel was the only one in evidence. His backpack lay on the floor at the foot of his bed. Resting on the mattress was a neatly folded square piece of paper.
Wade looked at the folded paper but decided to leave it until after he showered. After showering, he sat on the side of his bed and unfolded a hand-written note.
Dear Wade,
I realized I might not see you before I had to leave. I just wanted to thank you again for saving my life last night. I realize that you didn’t have to watch out for me like you did. I will always remember what you did for me. Please call me sometime when you’re in D.C.
Thank you,
Yari
Wade folded the note and put it in his backpack. He was due in Colonel Miller’s office in forty minutes, so he grabbed a burger at the base snack shack before walking to Miller’s office in the main administration building.
Wade entered the building and asked where he could find Colonel Miller’s office. Without looking up, the desk sergeant pointed to the right corner of the floor. Wade walked over to the desk, where a soldier in fatigues sat typing an Army form.
“My name is Wade Hanna, and I’m reporting as requested by Colonel Miller.”
“Take a seat. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
A row of chairs lined the wall outside of the Colonel’s office. After a ten-minute wait, Miller’s assistant said, “He will see you now.”
Wade approached the door and knocked twice before hearing a voice. “Enter.”
The Colonel was sitting with another gentleman in uniform. He motioned for Wade to come closer and take a chair opposite his desk.
“This is Major Jarvis. Dr. Jarvis is our base psychiatrist. I want him to assist in our debriefing.”
Wade and the psychiatrist acknowledged each other, shaking hands as Miller continued the introduction from his chair.
“I have given Major Jarvis an overview of the incident. We just want to ask you a few more questions about last evening and what led up to it. Why don’t you explain what happened in your own words to Major Jarvis?”
Wade felt strangely comfortable in these surroundings even though he was speaking with the second-highest-ranking officer on the base and a psychiatrist he had never met before. As Wade started summarizing the events of the previous evening, he looked directly at Major Jarvis, realizing he had never met any other psychiatrist. That thought made him a little nervous.
He repeated his story nearly word for word while the other men took notes. Dr. Jarvis had an analytical look about him, although his close-set eyes darted back and forth when he concentrated, giving Wade a creepy feeling.
Jarvis asked his first question. “Were you at all suspicious of anyone on Blue Team?”
“No. I don’t really know anyone on Blue Team except in passing, and neither do any of my men.”
“Isn’t it true you’ve out-maneuvered Blue Team on caches since the exercise began? You were winning the exercise, were you not?”
Before Wade could reply, Dr. Jarvis came in with another question. “In fact, isn’t it true you only had one cache left when the incident happened?”
“That’s correct. We were winning and only had a single cache left to capture.”
It wasn’t clear where Jarvis’s questioning was headed. Wade thought but didn’t say: Jarvis sounds more like an attorney than a psychiatrist. Is he trying to establish some kind of motive for the incident?
Wade took Jarvis’ question to imply that his team might have provoked or had something to do with the shooting incident. It wasn’t long before the doctor’s questions began to rub Wade the wrong way. His tone seemed somehow confrontational. Perhaps he was looking for some weakness or contradiction in Wade’s responses. Wade wondered if this was some kind of psychological profiling. He reacted by becoming extremely cautious in his responses.