A White Mercedes Pulled Up to Gate Six on a Tuesday Afternoon Without a Permit
“Commander Miller’s clerk came by the MP office twice this morning.
He asked what time you clocked in and whether you signed anything out of the archive.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I’m a private, and privates don’t keep a sergeant’s hours.” He glanced down at his boots.
“Then he asked me a second time.”
“And?”
“And I told him I’d find out.”
We stopped where the tile turned to concrete.
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