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"Dammit to hell, Jenkins! I don't want to hear this! People don't just disappear! Jenkins, your ass is grass if you don't find that prisoner. You'll be on report until your grandkids die of old age! Find her! FIND HER, damn it to hell!"
Colonel Arthur was redder than anyone had ever seen him. Staff were hiding behind consoles and aides were backing out doors. Half the piffle on his desk was turned over from the pounding he'd given it. He had spluttered so much he needed a handkerchief to wipe his face.
"Sparks! Call base security, call the El Paso PD, call the Border Patrol, get some choppers up. Christ, call Homeland Security. Yesterday, Sparks!”
He glared at Jenkins. "You let her out in the breezeway alone? ALONE?"
"Well, sir, regs allow juveniles unsupervised detention outside. She was in a juvenile holding cell."
"Regulations? Juveniles?? I got your regulations, Jenkins! Goddam Barbie's baby sister from outer space is in our custody and you let her get away! If the mother ship beamed her up, you better pray they get you next! Find her, goddammit, find her!"
His voice tapered to a whisper as he looked down at the wreckage on his desk.
"Bloody hell. This is it. Oh, crap. Bite me twice."
