Page 6 of Crosshairs
I said, “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s that?”
“Mount Rushmore just as they were starting construction on the monument.” A huge smile spread across the big man’s face. He had to add, “The beauty of the mountain was un-president-ed.”
I groaned. Then I said, “Aren’t your daughters making you put a dollar into a jar for every pun you make?”
“Not anymore. I made them another bet. I told them if they could keep a straight face and not groan or laugh at my latest pun, I’d keep doing the pun-jar payments.”
“So I take it they lost that bet?” I asked. “Since you’re going to tell me anyway, what was the pun?”
“What happened when two artists had a competition?”
I shrugged.
“It ended in a draw.”
I gave him a look, not a groan, and said, “Okay, I’ll admit that was pretty good.” I could envision his little girls giggling at that one. “But the real reason I stepped in here was not to hear more of your puns. I need some information.”
“On your new partner?” It wasn’t really a question. It was a statement, and it made me realize how transparent I could be.
All I could do was smile and say, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m looking for.”
“I was curious myself. Vanessa was the last one to come on the squad, and we vetted her like she was going to the White House. The weird thing is, I can’t bring up this guy’s NYPD personnel records, but I did get into his military record. I have a contact with DOD who forwarded his electronic file to me.”
“Why can’t you get his NYPD records?”
“That’s like asking me why we don’t get HBO on the squad TV. I don’t know the specifics; I just know we don’t have access tothem. This guy Rob Trilling’s file is locked. But I know he’s on an FBI task force, so that might have something to do with it.”
“I thought he was on our ESU as a sniper.”
“A couple of quick phone calls to my contacts tells me he hasn’t been in ESU since midsummer and has been over at the FBI fugitive task force since then.” He turned the screen a little more and motioned me to sit in the chair in front of his desk. He brought up the electronic file he’d received from the Department of Defense.
Before I could even understand what we were looking at, Walter let out a whistle. He said, “Damn, this guy has seen some shit. An Army Ranger. A tour in Afghanistan. He even received a Bronze Star for protecting a medical unit under ambush.”
“How the hell did he end up in New York?”
Walter shrugged, never taking his eyes off the screen.
I said, “Was he a sniper in the Army?”
“You’d think, right? I don’t see where he was sniper qualified. But if you look at his last fitness report, it lists his rifle and self-defense skills as ‘outstanding.’”
“Is that outstanding compared to the general population or compared to other Rangers?”
Walter whistled again and said, “I’m betting it’s against other Rangers. That makes him a certified badass.” He looked me in the eye and added, “You won’t like this part.”
“What?”
“Rob Trilling is only twenty-four years old.”
“Then how long has he been with the NYPD?”
Walter said, “I told you, I can’t get into his NYPD file. But if he was in the Army and is only twenty-four, he can’t have been with us for very long.”
A voice just outside Walter’s office said, “A little over nineteen months.”
My head snapped toward the door, where I saw a dark-haired young man dressed in a nice button-down with a blue tie that looked like the one I’d worn to my prom.
The man said, “Hi, I’m Rob Trilling.”