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“You should be stripped of your rank.” He spat at my boots, and I saw red just before I took a swing. Everything I’d held back came out in a flood as I snapped.
* * *
The clock ticked loudly on the wall as I leaned forward in the chair. I rested my forearms on my thighs, and my head was heavy and low. I looked down at my fingernails, now stained with Hill’s blood, then opened and closed my fists and studied the swollen knuckles. They were as battered as Hill’s face.
I was together enough now to know I’d lost it. I remembered the shouts as the men came to try to tear us apart, and it was only when I heard Halim’s pleading voice that I finally stopped and allowed them to pull me off him. The boy shouldn’t have seen me like that that, but I’d managed to hold it together for him until he was safe with his family. It was too much to ask of me at that point. If I hadn’t let loose on Hill, I would have exploded. The tension that had filled me had finally left me now, and I felt I could breathe. It wouldn’t bring Brown back; he wasn’t here and never would be again. I rubbed my face to try to clear the picture of his lifeless body out of my head. I didn’t give a rat’s ass about Hill’s condition. I hoped he was dead. I didn’t care about what happened to me now. I only wished I’d fought Hill over there and not waited until I was back on US soil.
“Eight years, he was over there.” I heard Frank’s faint voice. “Trust me, in spite of whatever just happened out there, he’s what you’re looking for.”
I moved my tongue around my mouth. I might face consequences for Hill, but if I was going down, I was determined to bring him with me. If he was alive. If he was, I’d do whatever it took to make sure that shit ended up behind bars, hopefully as someone’s bunk bitch.
“Captain Beckett.” Frank was now in the room. I prepared myself for what was about to happen. “I don’t know exactly what happened between you and Hill, but I know it had to do with Brown’s death. I’ll need all the facts, and we’ll get to that. You’re lucky he’s alive after the beating you gave him. I can only assume you had a reason for it, and I know it was a bad situation over there. Up to now, you’ve had an exemplary record, and nothing like this has ever been reported before, so I’m going to ask for your cooperation.”
I looked up at him, but I couldn’t think of a thing to say, so I just looked back down again.
“I want you to take an immediate psych eval.” His voice was firm. He wasn’t asking. I looked up again and wondered why a psych eval was being done first over what I assumed would be my arrest. I still didn’t know what kind of trouble I was really in. Frank’s hand fell away from the door handle, and he bent down close to me. “If you get cleared by the doc, I’ve an opportunity you might be interested in.” He leaned in. “Your future didn’t stop outside on that tarmac today. It starts now. I’m counting on you, Beckett. Now, follow me, soldier.”
“Yes, sir.” I got up and followed him inside the office and wondered what in the hell all that was about.
“Captain Beckett,” a well-dressed doctor stood and shook my hand, “I’m Dr. Roberts. Please sit down.” Frank left the room and shut the door on his way out.
“Ah, sure.” I wasn’t at all sure, but I wasn’t going to ask any questions either. I took inventory of the room, what was on the desk, how the windows opened, noted a door that most likely led to a bathroom. I shifted and looked back over my shoulder at the door I’d entered through.
“Everything all right?” He studied my face. I knew to answer with the truth or some sugar-coated version but never to dismiss the question altogether. The moment I walked in, I was being watched right down to my hand movements and how often my eyes shifted around.
“Okay if I change the angle of my chair?” I asked.
“Of course.” He waited until I was settled and seemed to understand my reason for it. I waited for the typical questions they usually asked. I could answer them in my sleep at this point in my career, but the doctor watched me instead. “Why don’t you give me the Cliffs Notes on your history in the military.”
“I was in JROTC in high school, went to college, headed straight to Afghanistan the moment I could, been doing special ops ever since.”
“Yes, I understand you’ve spent eight years over there. That’s a long time to be away from home. Do you miss your family?”
“Yes, I do,” I answered honestly. “But I feel I fit better over there.”
“Most soldiers would give a different answer to that.”
“With all due respect, Dr. Roberts, I’m not like most soldiers.”
“Meaning?”
“I’m the exception to the American rule. Square peg in a round hole, if you will. I’d rather be roughing it the woods or mountains, fighting to stay alive, and protecting those who can’t protect themselves. I need that kind of purpose in my life. I’d shrivel up and die if I had to be stuck in some subdivision or condo driving a minivan full of kids to soccer practice.” I cringed at the thought of a life like that.
“You do seem to be good with kids.”
“I like kids. I just don’t see myself as a father.”
“Halim took a liking to you.”
“He’s a good kid, but I was happy to hand him off to his family.”
Dr. Roberts opened an iPad and started to scribble notes over the screen with an electronic pen.
“Let’s talk about this last mission a bit.” I tried not to shift with discomfort. “How’d you end up with Hill and Rivera and Captain Flex with Anderson and Gail?”
“Our mission got made. When we found our mark had been killed, the Taliban were waiting for us, and we were ambushed. Everyone fled for cover, and we ended up mixing our companies.”
“How did Hill and Rivera do under your command?”
