But why stop a routine casualty transport? Private Mercer's paperwork was complete. Elijah's hand went to his breast pocket, where he kept Noah's escort documents. Everything had been verified multiple times at departure, during the flight, upon landing. There had been no issues until Holloway and Kessler created their public spectacle.
I need to call his mother, Elijah said heavily. She's waiting for her son to come home. Tonya nodded sympathetically and stepped out to give him privacy. Elijah pulled out his phone, dreading the conversation ahead. He had made many difficult calls during his years of service, but explaining why her son's body was being detained felt uniquely cruel.
He dialed Lena Mercer's number. She answered on the second ring. Staff Sergeant Booker? Is everything all right? Elijah took a slow breath.
Mrs. Mercer, I need to inform you of a delay in Private Mercer's transport. There's been an administrative hold placed on the transfer. He waited for the sob, the breakdown, the flood of grief-stricken questions. Instead, Lena's voice came back sharp and clear.
What kind of hold? They haven't provided specifics, ma'am. I'm trying to get answers. Noah called me three nights before he died, Lena cut in, her words precise and deliberate. He told me something I didn't understand at the time.
He said if anything happened to him, I shouldn't let them bury him fast. Elijah's spine stiffened. Ma'am? My son was worried, Sergeant Booker. He wouldn't tell me why, just made me promise to make sure everything was done properly if Her voice finally cracked.
If something happened to him. The office suddenly felt colder. What had seemed like bureaucratic interference now carried darker implications. Did Private Mercer give you any other information during that call? Elijah asked carefully.
No. He changed the subject when I pressed him. But I could tell he was scared. Lena's composure returned. And now they're holding his body for no reason?
I'm going to find out why, Mrs. Mercer, Elijah promised. Your son deserves better than this. Yes, he does. And, Sergeant Booker, I'm glad you're the one bringing him home.
Noah would have appreciated your dignity today. The call ended, leaving Elijah staring at his reflection in the darkened window. Noah Mercer's warning to his mother played on repeat in his mind. Tonya returned, closing the door behind her. I've been making calls.