Chapter 57 Chapter fifty-seven

Puller drove directly to Reynolds' home in Fairfax City.This is an ordinary house located in an old neighborhood.Reynolds presumably left and returned to Washington, D.C., several times during his military career due to post transfers.Every time he left, he had to sell his house at a low price in the real estate market, and every time he returned, he had to buy a new residence at a high price, which had a negative impact on his family's financial situation.Puller did not know the exact circumstances of Reynolds' family, but he concluded that the man was looking forward to a better pay in the private sector to compensate him for being far less than he was worth for many years of service to the country income.

Two hours passed.Puller sat in the Reynolds family living room, cradling a family portrait in latex-gloved hands.Although the room here had already been carefully searched by the Ministry of Homeland Security, Puller strictly abided by the relevant regulations on on-site evidence collection. The Reynolds family in the photo looks happy and full of energy, just like many happy families. The family is never like this anymore.He had just noticed the baseball gear in the boys' room, the swimming and tennis posters in the girls' room.He also saw photos of Matt and Stacy at various camp events and vacations.Sailing, skydiving, swimming with dolphins.Photos of their kids on tennis courts and baseball diamonds.Photo of daughter in her prom dress.Another shows a toddler son hugging his father in military uniform.

Puller had no trouble deciphering their expressions: Dad was on another mission.The son was upset and hugged his father tightly, not wanting him to leave home. Puller put the photo back in his hand.He locked the door when he came out.He sat in his car for a while, staring at the lifeless house.The house will be put on the market, and its contents will be scattered about, leaving the Reynolds family only in the memory of their loved ones and friends. And in my memory. It is very late.Puller drove back to his apartment and packed a bagful of clean laundry.He and Eivor hang out for a few minutes, thinking about what happened tonight.His flight back to Charleston was rescheduled for a flight tomorrow morning.It's too late for tonight's direct flight.

What Carson did was not as bad as she thought, but it was even worse.Something very significant is being conceived and happening.Carson believed that Reynolds and herself were the only official insiders.But in fact, it's not.Carson felt that by not reporting it to her boss in time, she had screwed up.The unmistakable fact is that the above already knew about it, but only after Reynolds' death.The tragedy of the Reynolds family's murder made Puller less confident that the Department of Homeland Security could provide him with strong reinforcements if needed.As for the tapped call, they haven't made much progress.

Scratching Eivor's ear, Pooler thought again of Sam Cole.How much could he tell Cole about it?The official answer is simple: the less you say to her, the better.And if you want to make an informal answer, things are much more complicated.He didn't want to put people in danger without knowing it.He can take advantage of the short flight and the longer drive after landing in Charleston to consider the question. He looked at his watch.He had made arrangements in advance.There must be a prearrangement, otherwise the event would not have been possible. He got through the phone.Several people on the other end of the phone answered the phone one after another, and Puller communicated appropriately with one of them.Finally, that familiar voice came over.

"I was surprised when they told me you had scheduled the call tonight," said Robert Puller. "I need to catch up with the time you are allowed to talk." "It's getting late on the East Coast." "Yes, it's late." "Someone is listening to our call. They're listening." His brother changed his voice and deliberately put out a baritone voice: "Can you hear clearly, Mr. Listener? If you can't hear clearly, we would like to take this opportunity to talk about our conspiracy to destroy the world." "Come on, Bobby. They're gonna cut the phone off."

"They might be able to cut us off, but they won't. If they're not listening, what's there to do?" "I'm going to see him," could never have been a more veiled code word between the Puller brothers.There is only one "he" in their lives. "Really, how is he?" Robert's voice quickly became serious. "Honestly, he's not that good, sometimes he gets confused." "Think you're still a general?" "Yeah, not bad at all." "What about other aspects?" "Very healthy. Can live to be a hundred years old."

"What else?" "Always complain." "Who are you complaining about?" "Accuse everywhere. It's still about not getting the fourth star, but his bullet was completely in the wrong direction." Puller didn't care if the listeners guessed they were talking about the father.As long as it is not related to a crime or has other inappropriate things, the prison will keep their conversations confidential.If a listener leaks an inmate's conversation without permission, they could be punished or even have their military career ruined, especially if a veteran on the other end of the line is a veteran.

"I guess he blamed it on me," said Robert. "Right," Puller replied. "He really thinks so? The time is simply not right." "He doesn't see it that way," Puller heard his brother sigh. "I didn't want to tell you," Pooler said. "It's in prison anyway, so why not tell me?" "That's the case. But maybe I shouldn't tell you anyway." "No, no, you should tell me, brother. I appreciate that." He paused for a moment. "You're doing something interesting, aren't you?" "It may be so. But I cannot tell you."

"Well, good luck. I bet you can." They spent another thirty seconds chatting a few innocuous gossips before saying their goodbyes.Puller turned off the phone and continued to stare at it, imagining his brother being taken back to the cell again.The elder brother had nothing to do, he could only wait for an hour to get out of the cell the next day, and wait for his younger brother to call or visit him again.Completely in a state of resignation, no aspect of life can be controlled by himself. All he has left is me.Dad is all that's left of me. God bless me.Bless them too.