“After a while I moved up in rank and the Army decided I was a smart guy. They assigned me to a remote place in the foothills of South Dakota. A small building a few miles outside a little nowhere town. It had a one man office and living quarters. I couldn’t see or hear another person from there; the main road was some distance. They did not want me wearing a uniform.”

“Sounds strange. What did you do?”

“Not a lot. At irregular intervals I would get a call saying a delivery was coming. Sooner or later a van would pull up and a couple of guys in regular clothes would get out, show me their credentials and unload some metal file crates which we would stack in the office and they would leave. In a day or so I would get another call about a pick up. I would write down some information on a form and wait. Guys in regular clothes with credentials would show up and get the crates. They never sent the same guys twice. Once a week I would go into town and mail my forms. I did that for over two years.”

“Wow, no one else ever came around. Like an officer or something?” Kevin asks.

“No one. I never saw anyone except the drivers until I left there and went to a base for a briefing. It was strange, that phone never rang except for about the delivery and pick up. I didn’t talk to anyone else to do with the Army except about the crates.”

“Weird. What was in the boxes?” Kevin asks.

“I don’t know” Jareth says “I was told not to open them and they would know if I did.”

Kevin risks taking his eyes off the road and looks at the old man. “You never found out what was in the crates?”

“Never. Watch the road, will you?”

“Weren’t you curious?” Kevin asks.

“Of course, I asked once and was told to keep my mind on my work,” Jareth says.