“Nobody.”
“Then we have a problem.”
Military police arrived within minutes.
Jordan emptied his pockets.
Phone.
Keys.
Wallet.
Access card.
Everything was there.
An investigator examined the card.
“No sign of damage.”
Jordan felt sick.
He had joined the Army partly because his father spent most of Jordan’s childhood in prison for theft.
Jordan hated every time someone said they looked alike.
Now he was sitting in a supply office being accused of exactly the kind of crime he had spent his life trying to distance himself from.
“Search my room,” he said.
The investigator nodded.
“We will.”
Harlan folded his arms.
“If those vests left this base…”
“They didn’t leave through me.”
“You don’t know that.”
Jordan stood.
“I know I didn’t take them.”
The investigator ordered him to sit.
Hours later, they returned from his room.
No equipment.
For the first time, Jordan felt hope.
Then one investigator placed a photograph on the table.
Security camera footage.
