by David Carter

Created on: April 19, 2008   Last Updated: June 11, 2008

Case# 49715: The Files of the Unknown Soldier

Mack Dougan was a professional. He liked what he did, and was just learning to love it when he received a phone call that changed his life forever.

"Hello, Dougan here." He answered the phone in his midtown Manhattan office, an hour before midday.

"I'm looking for a P. I." The voice responded on the other end.

Well, you found one. Dougan thought to himself. He'd been practicing for seven years, and no to phone calls were ever alike to him. This one sounded like the potential client was new to the investigative game, and was looking for him to hold him or her, it sounded like a female, by the hand, and walk him or her step-by-step through the whole process.

"I'm trying to locate a missing person, who served in Iraq for two years, and has not been heard from since they've returned."

That bit of information piqued his interest, as he'd known several people who served overseas; acquaintances of his. He'd been interested in exactly what was going on over there, and they'd explained some things to him, but not the whole "kit-and-caboodle."

"Well you've contacted the right people, Mack explained to the young man, as he was quite confident now of the sex,and age, of the prospective client, due to minor detections of baritone over the phone line during the course of the conversation thus far.

By "people" he meant himself, his secretary and dog; the only people who occupied the corner of the office building he leased for his practice. His secretary was a smart red-head, who also happened to be very attractive and efficient. She kept him on his toes, and he remembered that as he jotted down on a notepad the information the young man was giving him over the phone.

"What is this person's name?" He asked the caller, hoping for more insight on the case.

"Rebecca Darling". He answered. "She's my sister."
A woman, Mack thought. Well, of course the armed forces standards had changed in the last 20 years, but it always gave him pause when women were mentioned in relation to combat. He'd served briefly in the late eighties, and witnessed some of the changes, but still hadn't gotten used to the idea of women serving on the front lines, with automatic rifles and such.

"And you say you haven't seen or heard from her since her discharge?" He asked, trying to gain more clarification on the matter.

"No, and me and the whole family are beginning to worry."

"Well, you've done the right thing." Dougan tried to reassure him. "We're professionals here,

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