Things were beginning to fall into place.

“Michael was a smuggler, but you knew that. Arnold’s a supply sergeant. That the two would develop a business relationship isn’t hard to believe,” I said.

Quickly I related what I saw on the loading dock the night before.

In minutes we were headed to the office. The freezers were empty. Whatever they had contained had been removed. But I was able to show Rodgers the post it note that I had found.

“I’m not certain what was in those boxes I saw being moved. But I’m guessing they came from Arnold.”

“CBRN suits,” Rodgers muttered. He looked up at me from behind the desk. “Chemical Biologic Radiologic and Nuclear protective suits. They provide protection against the effects of weapons of mass destruction.”

“What about M50’s,” I asked.

“The latest gas masks. They are just getting issued to the troops.” He picked up the post it note and read what it said. “Basra is a port. Volga may be a ship…”

His face turned pale, and I heard him mutter “Oh shit”.