ON THE GROUND

ROLAND LANDRY, THIRTY-NINE YEARS OLD, and young Lessard, both active agents of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, backed up a step as the trunk popped open. The moment before, Landry had taken the key out of the Chevrolet’s ignition, and he’d just used it to open the trunk.

They examined its contents in silence.

“Poor guy,” Roland murmured.

“Is he . . .”

“Without a doubt. Is he your first?”

“Yes . . .”

They both heard the sound of the military jeep coming from the base behind them, and turned to meet it.

“What are we going to do with this?” Lessard asked, meaning the trunk.

“Let’s not close it just yet, these guys are going to want to see what’s inside . . .”

Landry slipped the Chevrolet’s key in his pocket and reached in for his badge. He was going to show it to the two soldiers before shaking their hands.