Flash Blood by Joseph Hirsch

Author:Joseph Hirsch
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Flash Blood, Joseph Hirsch, 9781629291598, thriller, Afghanistan, Poppy, Military, Heroin, Flashblood, Flash Blood, Flashblooding, Phlebotomy, Hirsch, Joseph Hirsch, Detective Arklow, James Arklow, VA, Veterans Affairs, Military Police, United States Disciplinary Barracks, USDB, Fort Leavenworth, Leavenworth, War Crime, Fentanyl, LSD, Crime, Venipuncture, Pittsburgh, Las Vegas, Sin City, Baccarat
Publisher: Damnation Books LLC
Published: 2014-08-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Usually even the most boring terrain contains some sort of revelatory feature when seen from the window of an airplane, but very little could be said for the flight into Platte County, Missouri. Few of the buildings in the city center were larger than the air traffic control tower at the edge of the runway of the airport. The interior of the airport itself gave one the impression of a dying and seldom-frequented mall whose shop spaces would all soon be shuttered. I bought a barbecue sandwich at a cheap gift shop that also sold tasteless T-shirts. I scarfed down the sandwich on my way to pick up my rental car, which I then drove to the KC Marriot where I’d booked a reservation.

My room was what hoteliers used to call a “side sign, no drapes” nightmare, reserved especially to punish the kind of cheapskate who tried to find the least expensive room he could. There were no curtains over my window. The blood red glow of the Marriot sign spilled through the glass and lay across my bed in a pattern that made me feel, as the night came on, as if I was a prostitute readying herself for the first client of the evening.

Jet lag blind-sided me shortly after I set my bags down at the hotel, and I thanked God for online check-in. The undigested barbecue made my stomach rumble, a threatening premonition of diarrhea that had me drowsing with one leg off the bed in my hotel room, in case I had to make a mad dash for the toilet sometime during the night. I searched for the remote control on the bedside table and turned on the TV. Edith Bunker’s shrill voice comforted me as I listened to her and Meathead explain to Archie why he should give up his prejudice and join the human race. I drifted in and out of sleep.

ACS (The Army Corrections System) had faxed me a book of rules for visitation, along with a stern warning from Sergeant Albermann—the senior staff member designated as my guide for the tour—that any violation of the rules would result in immediate termination of the visit. I tried to read the damn thing. All it did was make my eyes water and remind me of the misery of those old army manuals, the agony of studying for promotion and quarterly soldier boards. I was no Beetle Bailey, but I wasn’t Audie Murphy, either.

From what I gathered, the visit would be a cakewalk as long as I didn’t attempt to bring in any items not on the preapproved list, and I didn’t take any photographs. The only downside was that since Berkove and I were not attorney and client, we would not be guaranteed a private meeting. That might make ex-sergeant Lawrence Berkove more reticent to tell me the things I wanted to know.

I woke up just as the sun was hitting the man-made lake outside my hotel room window. I went over my face with the Norelco, took a hot shower, brushed my teeth, and got dressed for the day.

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