The woman he was following was in the line ahead of him. Puller had two soldiers

and a Navy guy in uniform behind him and a gaggle of college-age women in front

of him. And the two groups were flirting with each other. Puller finally stepped

behind the guys in uniform so they could more directly carry on their flirting

with the ladies.

 

They finally worked their way up to the front, where a tall, wellbuilt man in

his fifties wearing a hat, glasses, and black clothing was checking IDs.

 

The woman Puller was following was cleared in, as were the young women behind

her.

 

Then the soldiers stepped up to the line and presented their IDs.

 

The man checked them, held a light up to them, and handed them back. “Nice try,

guys,” he said. “These are legit,” said one of the uniforms, a tall, thin male.

“I’m twenty-two.” “Maybe in another life.” “This is crap,” snapped the man. “My

light says it’s a forgery, and the light is the judge,” said the bouncer.

“Listen, old man—” That’s when Puller stepped in. He put a hand on the soldier’s

arm.

 

When the guy whipped around, ready for a fight, he was staring at the clawed

eagle on Puller’s CID badge.

 

The grunt stiffened. “Bad luck for you all around, son,” said Puller. “Now, I