Proof Positive A Joe Gunther Novel by Archer Mayor

Author:Archer Mayor
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781250026408
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2014-09-30T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Norwich University is the nation’s oldest private military college, created in Norwich, Vermont, in 1819 as the American Literary, Scientific and Military Academy, and since moved to Northfield. Its founder—Joe always relished this fact—was a local man who’d been thrown out as superintendent of West Point for advocating a citizen soldiery over the aristocratic officer class favored at the time. It was yet another indicator for Joe of his beloved state’s stubborn devotion to common sense and pragmatism over trendiness, fashion, or elitism.

But he’d not traveled to this hilly, austerely designed campus to pay homage to tradition. He was here to see Marcus Perry, who, according to Lester, had served with Ben Kendall’s outfit in Vietnam and at about the same time. In a team discussion earlier, they’d agreed that interviewing Perry might be a stab in the dark, but better than losing more time searching for other Signal Corps alums farther afield.

Based on every statistic available for similar kidnappings, each hour that passed ate into the Filson family’s chances of survival.

Joe parked near the library and began heading uphill on foot toward Jackman Hall, where, during a phone call an hour earlier, he’d been told to meet Perry in his office. Jackman anchored one end of a large, green, rectangular commons that formed the campus’s primary parade ground on top of a mesalike hilltop. The parade ground was lined by two severe if photogenic rows of opposing buildings. It was built to impress—and succeeded, if your tastes ran to authoritarian. As Joe trudged nearer to the building blocking the far end, with its columns, cupola, and carillon tower next door, he easily imagined the cadenced display of cadets across the central green expanse, wheeling in lockstep to shouted commands. On the basis of that memory alone, he drifted back in time to his own days at boot camp, and being hectored and disciplined into becoming an integral part of a fighting force.

He finally reached Jackman Hall, passing several cadets who were saluting a professor in passing, and climbed the interior staircase. He came to a large, dark, wooden door labeled COL. PERRY—HISTORY, knocked, and entered without waiting for a response.

The white-haired uniformed man who looked up at him from his desk fixed him with a disapproving stare. “And you are?” he asked.

“Joe Gunther. VBI. We spoke on the phone.”

Perry nodded once, stood, and circled the desk to greet Joe as an equal, ushering him into one of two leather guest chairs and taking the other for himself. The office appeared airlifted from central casting, its walls lined with battle flags, portraits of men in uniform, assorted weapons of yore, and boxed awards and medals. Every flat surface was littered with military paraphernalia, from dummy hand grenades to scale models of jeeps, cannon, and even a motorcycle. It was comfortable, lived-in, and as male as an old sleeping lion.

“Thank you for meeting on such short notice,” Joe began.

“Not a problem,” Perry replied. “I’ve accommodated the spontaneous all my life. It’s part of the job and something I like anyhow.

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