Angels Don't Die (Madeleine Toche Series Book 2) Read Free Page B

gesturing down the hallway with his hand.
                  John was glad for the escort; the Pentagon was a maze of corridors with hundreds of people rushing about.  There was still a war on and apparently a great deal of work to get done.  Civilians jostled with military personnel from every service.  The farther they went into the massive building, the more John hoped he could persuade Smith to meet with him in a more private setting.
                  After several minutes, the private stopped by a solid oak door and rapped on the wood loud enough for the receptionist to hear.
                  “Right this way, colonel,” the receptionist gestured.
                  John was led through another set of doors.  Captain Smith jumped to his feet and came around the side of the desk.  He looked like a recruiting poster, tall with sandy blond hair and a ready smile.  He reached out to shake John’s hand and gave him a quick clasp on the shoulder.
    “Colonel, I thought you were rotating out of this mess,” he said gesturing to a chair. 
                  “Well I am.  Karen finally put her foot down and I've been inactive for two years now.  It’s time to retire and take it easy,” John said looking around the room his eyes coming to rest on a series of photographs arranged behind Smith’s desk.  “I see you’ve got pictures of our bivouac near Da Nang from ’64.  That seems like a long time ago now, Brad,” John said, refusing the offered chair and pointing to one of the larger pictures depicting a group of soldiers casually posing in front of a tank, displaying their weapons.
                  “It was a long time ago.  I was just a lowly green grunt then, fresh off the boat.  Those days were wild.  I never knew what to expect from day to day following you and major Harper around the bush.  You two always took good care of us,” Smith said looking at the pictures.  He turned his attention back to John and folded his arms over his chest.  “So, Colonel what brings you here?” Smith said, sitting on the edge of his desk.  “Did you just come to say hi, then?” His eyes betrayed that he knew John wasn’t there for a social visit.
                  “Do you think I could steal you away for a burger somewhere?  I've got a situation that might best be discussed elsewhere,” John said.
                  Smith frowned a bit and said, “Let me get my coat.  A couple old comrades in arms out for a bit of lunch won't raise any eyebrows. Is it anything serious?”
                  “It’s a personal question,” John said already moving towards the door.  Smith took the lead, holding the door open for John as he pulled his coat off the hook on the back of the door.  Smith led them quickly back down through the corridors and outside through the reception area.
                  The two men walked out to John's car and drove into town to find a burger joint where they could sit outside. The two men chatted casually as Smith directed John to drive past the numerous restaurants that catered to the Pentagon and its employees, and to a quiet, out-of-the way hamburger stand a few miles down the road. The men walked up to the window and looked over the menu.
    “If the burgers are as good as they smell, you brought me to the right place,” John said placing his order.
      When their food and drinks came, the men walked over to a table set away from the other patrons, under a spreading oak tree.  The sun was heating up and the shade was welcome.  Summer was giving way to fall but the sun was still intense.  They sat down and unwrapped their food.  Before John could speak, Smith held up his hand.
                  “Before you say anything John, I know what this is about.  Whether you see them or not, there may be eyes on us.  What I’m going to tell you will be hard to hear, but I