I sat in stunned silence for a moment.

“If it isn’t Michael, then who is it?” I asked.

“Master Sgt. Arnold of the 509th Logistic Support unit. He’s been missing for four days. Six hours ago forensics identified the body as his. I don’t like people dicking me around and I sure as shit won’t let them get away with killing our soldiers. Now the only thing keeping you out of an Iraqi jail cell right now is the fact that you didn’t get off the plane until after his murder, but I want to know everything you know about this.”

Michael wasn’t dead. I got my mind to grasp that.

“Let’s think this through. This wasn’t Michael. But someone wants us to think it is. How did you make the initial ID?”

“By his wallet and identification papers,” Rodgers said.

“Ok, he was hit by two shotgun blasts, but one would be enough to kill him. One to the head, and one to the hands. No face, no hands, no fingerprints.”

“That makes sense,” said Rodgers as he sat down.

“What kind of work did Arnold do?”

“He worked in supplies”.