1050 ZULU
ROBERTS RESIDENCE
WEST ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
Bud Roberts awake, feeling himself on a soft, firm surface. Nearby is a source of warmth. Even before focusing his eyes, he knows that he is exactly where he is supposed to be - in his bedroom at his house in West Arlington, Virginia. It is not the first time he woke up aboard a Navy ship, back when he was in Navy ROTC, when it took him a minute to figure out where he was.
"Good morning," he says to the form next to him.
His wife, Harriet, rolls over. "Good morning," she says. Her blond hair is a tangled mess, much different than it was when she was in uniform.
Bud swings his right foot onto the carpet of his bedroom. Reaching down, he grabs a prosthetic leg and attaches it to the stump of his left knee. He goes about his normal morning routine whenever he is stationed at home- using the bathroom, shaving his face, combing his dark hair, and then going downstairs to eat his breakfast with Harriet; their eldest son AJ also joins them this particular morning, eating a bowl of Cheerios. Bud always eats breakfast with his wife whenever he is at home, considering that he can be sent to a far away place at a moment's notice, given the nature of his job.
Finishing his breakfast, he walks back up to his bedroom, opening the closet. Inside he removes the white Navy summer uniform . After putting on the trousers and the shirt and making sure the ribbons are straight, he places on the shoulder boards, which have two one-inch gold stripes and one half-inch gold stripes indicating his rank as a lieutenant commander in the United States Navy. He takes another look at the full-length mirror, making sure his uniform is proper. He takes a look at the twins in the crib, a boy and a girl, then saying a quick goodbye to his second son, James.
"The nanny will be coming in at 10:00," says Harriet. "I have to get fitted for the wedding this afternoon."
"It's this afternoon?" asks Bud, knowing what his wife meant by "the wedding". "I thought it was in June."
"The sixteenth."
Bud mentally counts how many days until the sixteenth of June. "See you later," he says, kissing her and accelerating his own heart rate.
Mornings are always good when he wakes up next to her, no matter what else happens.
oooooooooooo
1253 ZULU
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA
U.S. Navy Lieutenant Commander Bud Roberts enters the JAG Headquarters in Falls Church. The building serves as the headquarters for the United States Navy's Judge Advocate General, who is responsible for providing legal services for the Navy and the Marine Corps. He enters the main office, greeting the Navy and Marine Corps lawyers assigned to headquarters. He then sits inside his own private office - it is one of the privileges that goes with being a lieutenant commander. Of course, his office is not as big as a captain's office; two Navy lawyers he worked closely with had been promoted to captain recently.
He checks his voice mail and e-mail messages and reads through some reports as part of his usual routine when he is posted at JAG Headquarters.
At 0930, he attends the morning briefing in the conference room. The room's floor is covered in carpet, not like the white tiles that cover the floors of the main office and Bud's office. The staff lawyers not being deployed are all standing at attention. Three people stand in the back of the room. One of them is Navy Captain Sturgis Turner, the new chief of staff for JAG Headquarters. He had received his promotion and billet not too long ago. Bud remembers that Turner was once OIC in charge of JAG Headquarters. Another of the three is Navy Petty Officer First Class Jennifer Coates, who is the administrative aide to the Judge Advocate General. Coates had once served as Bud's paralegal, back when he was assigned to a tour of duty on board the carrier U.S.S. Seahawk. And delivering the morning briefing is the Judge Advocate General, U.S. Marine Corps Major General Gordon M. Cresswell.
General Cresswell then gives out the duty assignments for the staff lawyers, most of which were recommended by Captain Turner.
"Roberts, Vukovic," he says, "Just last night, MP's from the Recruit Depot on Parris Island went into a house looking for drugs. They shot and killed Sergeant Major Terry Stevens in his bedroom. Sergeant Major Stevenson was the sergeant major for the Recruit Training Regiment."
"Were any drugs found, sir?" asks Bud.
"None were found, Commander," replies the general. "In fact, according to preliminary reports, they got the wrong house. You and Lieutenant Vukovic are assigned to investigate this shooting."
After the briefing is over, Bud walks to his office and dials the number of Harriet's Nokia cellular telephone. A few rings later, he hears his wife's recorded message.
"Harriet, this is Bud," he says. "Listen, I've been deployed to Parris Island south of here, I think. I won't be coming home for a while. I'll keep you posted. Tell the kids about this."
oooooooooooooo
1945 ZULU
MARINE CORPS RECRUIT DEPOT PARRIS ISLAND
BEAUFORT COUNTY, SOUTH CAROLINA
After their flight lands at Marine Corps Air Station Beaufort, also known as Fightertown East, Lieutenant Commander Bud Roberts and Lieutenant Gregory Vukovic step inside am olive-drab Ford Crown Victoria and the driver, a Marine corporal assigned to the Recruit Depot's Headquarters and Service Battalion, drives the two Navy lawyers to the Recruit Depot nearby.
After checking in with headquarters and settling into their temporary quarters, Bud and Vukovic head over to the military police station.
The front room is typical of a military police station, with a desk and wooden benches. A sergeant stands at the front desk, noticing the two Navy lawyers.
"Sirs," says the Marine military police sergeant. "Colonel Hartwell is expecting you."
"Hello there," says a female voice. The two lawyers look and see an auburn-haired woman dressed in a Marine Class "C" uniform with an MP armband on the left sleeve. "Lieutenant Colonel Pamela Hartwell. I'm in charge of the MP's on Parris Island. I graduated boot camp here in '85, been enlisted for three years before going to OCS."
"Lieutenant Commander Bud Roberts," says Bud. "This is Lieutenant Gregory Vukovic. We're from JAG Headquarters."
"Welcome to Parris Island," says the colonel. "Where we make United States Marines."
Hartwell leads the two lawyers into her own office. It is about the same size as Bud's office in Falls Church; it has a carpeted floor, a Pentium computer on the desk, and a Marine Corps recruiting poster pinned to the wall.
"Can you explain the events that led to the shooting death of Sergeant Major Stevens?" asks Bud.
"We received a tip that someone on base was dealing drugs," says Colonel Hartwell. "He was identified as Staff Sergeant Nathaniel Moody. I ordered a raid of his house in the evening, after he was observed to leave the base."
"Why is that?" asks Vukovic.
"We think he did not think that we suspected him," says Hartwell. "Anyway, once he left the base, I sent the MP's in. They reported that the suspect was down, and medics arrived to take him to the hospital, where he later died."
"So how is it that Sergeant Major Stevens was the one who got killed, ma'am?" asks Vukovic.
"We got the wrong house, Lieutenant. We have a bunch of bungalows out near the golf course, where senior enlisted singles live. The drill instructors live there weekdays when they train the recruits; they have to be on call when they do recruit training, like they're doing now."
"Why did they shoot?" asks Bud.
"Gunnery Sergeant Vasquez- he led the raid - thought that there was a gun. He yelled, there were shots fired."
"What about Staff Sergeant Moody?" asks Bud. "Did you arrest him?"
"No," replies the colonel. "We've got no evidence yet."
"Is Gunnery Sergeant Vasquez here?" asks Vukovic.
"He's in the office now."
The colonel and the two lawyers walk to the main office.
"Vasquez," says Colonel Hartwell, "these people want to talk to you."
"Yes, ma'am," replies a man with dark hair cropped-short. He wears Class C's. He reminds Bud of another gunnery sergeant who once worked at JAG Headquarters, and is now assigned to the Joint Forces Legal Service Center in San Diego, California. "Gunnery Sergeant George Vasquez," he says, introducing himself to the two Navy officers. "How may I help you?"
"We want to ask about the shooting death of Sergeant Major Terry Stevens," says Bud.
"I was expecting that to be the topic, sir," says Vasquez. "It was supposed to be a simple search for drugs. I didn't know the details of the case - I know that the colonel has contacts with local law enforcement, among other things. She told us to conduct a search, and we did. When we went to the bedroom, I saw movement. I thought I saw what appeared to be a gun. I yelled, and we...we opened fire. I called for a paramedic. It wasn't until 0030 that I heard he died."
"You know you got the wrong place, right?" asks Vukovic.
"Not until this morning, sir," replies the gunnery sergeant. "The colonel briefed us on what had happened. It was a mistake, sir. An awful mistake."
"We'll need to speak with everyone involved," says Bud.
"Sir, I will assure you full cooperation from my men, just as Colonel Hartwell does." He glances at his commanding officer, who nods in reply. "Wait, is that a purple heart, Commander?"
Bud looks down at his ribbons. "Yes," he says. "I lost my leg stepping on a mine in Afghanistan."
"So you were in combat, sir," says Vasquez.
"Well, I was trying to save a boy who appeared to be trapped in a minefield," replies the commander.
"I was in combat. Fallujah. Hiding behind walls and drums, bullets flying and mortars exploding. Seeing someone right next to you die. Ever see something like that, sir?"
"Vasquez!" snaps Colonel Hartwell. "Please do not waste these men's time. If you have anything else to say relevant to the case, say it now."
"Sorry, ma'am," replies the gunnery sergeant. "I don't have anything else to say, sirs. I can give you a copy of my report and the reports of my men. If there's anything else you need, you know where to find me. And if I find anything else, I'll contact you."
"We'll appreciate that, Gunny," says Bud.
ooooooooooo
2030 ZULU
Bud enters an office, the floor covered with a carpet, and a Marine Corps recruiting poster hanging on the wall.
"Ah, Colonel Wood?" asks Bud, looking at the man sitting behind the desk, dressed in MARPAT camoflauge.
"Commander," says Colonel Wallace Wood, the commanding officer of Parris Island's recruit training regiment. "How may I help you?"
"Sir, I wish to ask about Sergeant Major Stevens."
"Oh, you mean Terry," says the colonel. "He was a fine drill instructor. He entered the Marine Corps here, at Parris Island. You know, before he came here again he was in the hospital recovering from wounds sustained in combat in Iraq back in 2004. Got a nice chunk of his leg blown off."
"I know how that feels, sir."
"He was offered medical retirement, but he persevered in his therapy. He wanted to become a drill instructor again - he did a stint in the '90's. He told me he wanted to teach recruits how to survive when they get sent to Iraq or Afghanistan or anywhere else a commander-in-chief might send them. He was awarded a Navy Cross and a Purple Heart for his actions in Iraq." The colonel stands up. "In a perfect world, we wouldn't need drill instructors, or a Marine Corps. But reality is what it is, and we're needed here now."
"And how would you rate his performance since his assignment here, sir?"
"His service here was of the same quality as he had serving with the 1st Marine Division in Iraq. He is dedicated, and always around to assist recruits or the drill instructors under his charge. I liked the way he ran things; I really didn't have to tell him what to do. He would tell me what he had planned for the week, and I simply tell him to go ahead."
"Was there any indication of illegal drug use by Sergeant Major Stevens?"
"Commander!" scolds the colonel.
"I'm conducting an official JAG inquiry, sir," says Bud. "I must explore all possibilities."
"Of course, Commander," says Wood. "No, I have not observed, nor heard of any, drug use by Sergeant Major Terry Stevens."
ooooooo
2038 ZULU
"The sergeant major was one of the best," says Gunnery Sergeant Haley, standing outside the offices of the 1st training battalion.
"What do you know about him, Gunny?" asks Lieutenant Vukovic.
"I know he was wounded in Iraq and was awarded the Navy Cross for what he did there," says the gunnery sergeant. "He's a legend. When the recruits were first bussed in, he would be the first one to greet them, yelling at them all to get in line. This is my first time as drill instructor; he encouraged me in this effort. It's strange, sir. After all he went through, after all those battles he fought over there, he gets killed here by our own MP's! Damnit!"
"Was Sergeant Major Stevens involved with drugs?"
"Of course not!" yells the gunnery sergeant. "Sir."
"Okay, then," says Vukovic. "Have you ever met Staff Sergeant Nathaniel Moody?"
"I've met him before," says Haley. "I know he's not part of the training regiment; he's in the headquarters and service battalion. I sometimes meet with him."
"How well do you know him?"
"Not all that well, sir. If you'll excuse me, sir, I have to get back to my recruits."
"Did Staff Sergeant Moody ever offer you anything, Gunny?"
"No, sir. Not even a drink. I don't hang out with him anyway, our paths don't cross too often."
Vukovic immediately turns away.
oooooooooooo
2049 ZULU
"Staff Sergeant Moody works under my command," says Sergeant Major Jerry Perpich, standing behidn his desk in his office in the Headquarters and Service Battalion offices.
"What is your opinion of Staff Sergeant Moody?" asks Bud, who met Sergeant Major Perpich earlier today, when he and Lieutenant Vukovic were assigned temporary quarters.
"He completes his assignments, sir," replies the sergeant major. "He works well with others."
"It's not very flattering, Sergeant Major."
"I don't think that Staff Sergeant Moody is seeking an active duty career," says Perpich. "He's planning to get his discharge when his enlistment expires. I think that's in a year or so."
oooooooooo
2207 ZULU
Staff Sergeant Nathaniel Moody steps on the brakes on his Nissan Sentra. Looking ahead, he can see police cars parked around his house.
Moody parks the Sentra, stepping out.
"Excuse me," says one of the MP's.
"This is my quarters," says the staff sergeant.
"We're conducting an authorized search, Staff Sergeant."
Staff Sergeant Moody waits. His heart starts to beat rapidly, and his palms sweat. An auburn-haired woman steps out; Moody sees the silver oak leaves on her collar. He quickly salutes.
"Staff Sergeant Moody," says Colonel Hartwell.
"And what are you looking for, ma'am?" he asks.
"Drugs," replies the colonel. "You may step back inside when we're done."
Moody watches as the MP's go through his small, one-bedroom house. After a few minutes, all of the Marine MP's leave.
"We're done here, Staff Sergeant," says Hartwell. "Pretty smart for you to flush the drugs down the toilet."
"I'll just go back inside my house, ma'am," replies Moody.
oooooooooo
2330 ZULU
Bud Roberts sits inside his temporary quarters, which is basically a one-bedroom apartment, the kind of quarters the Marines would provide to an O-5.
Sitting at a round wooden table, he reads through some of the files. Gunnery Sergeant George Vasquez had been in Iraq last year, and was in the Battle of Fallujah. He was awarded a Silver Star and went to MP School and was first assigned to Parris Island seven months ago.
Staff Sergeant Nathaniel Moody does not have as notable a record. He did a three month stint in Adghanistan before being transferred here.
Lieutenant Colonel Pamela Hartwell searched Staff Sergeant Moody's quarters; she and her MP's found nothing illegal.
Bud then walks to the small bedroom in the rear of the temporary quarters. He picks up the telephone and dials his home number.
"Hello," says Harriet.
"Harriet, it's me, Bud," says Bud. "How are you doing?"
"The kids and I are fine," replies Harriet. "I was just done feeding the twins, James is asleep, and I'm reading a book to AJ. Want to say hi to Daddy?"
"Hi, Daddy," says AJ Roberts.
"Hello, AJ," replies Bud. "How are you feeling?"
"Good, Daddy."
"Daddy is right here."
"Why do you have to be away?"
"You know that sometimes you have to do things, like clean your room, right?"
"Yeah."
"To earn money to buy you food and clothes, I am in the Navy," Bud explains to his son. "I agreed to serve the Navy. They gave me an assignment here on Parris Island. I'm not leaving you; I'll talk to you and James and the twins and Mommy every day."
"That's good."
"How's the case going, Bud?" asks Harriet.
"I expect to make my recommendation tomorrow," says Bud.
"I have to go get the dress altered tomorrow, so I have to hire the nanny again. What about your dress whites?"
"I'll have to get them dry cleaned."
"I'll talk to you later, Bud," says Harriet.
"Goodbye," says Bud, hanging up the phone and cutting himself off from his wife's voice for the time being.
He leaves his quarters; he might as well get something to eat.
