"I'm getting you reassigned."
Elliot blinked. "Excuse me?"
"This deployment—it's a waste of your skillset. You're better utilized here, stateside. I've already made some calls."
He stared at his father. Tried to find something in his face—concern, worry, fear for his son's safety. Anything that would indicate this was abouthimand not about the career path The General had mapped out three decades ago.
The truth was, had his father told him this yesterday—before calling Hudson and realizing he’d moved on—he might have accepted. But now it didn’t matter. There was no reason for him to stay. He wanted out of here.
"I don't want to be reassigned," Elliot said.
His father waved a hand like Elliot hadn't spoken. "Fisher at JSOC owes me a favor. I'll have you transferred to a training role. It's better for your career anyway. You're due for promotion next year, and this deployment will only delay?—"
"I said, I don't want to be reassigned."
The General finally looked at him. Despite his set expression, Elliot could see the shock on his face. "That’s not your decision to make."
"Yes, it is. And I'm taking the deployment."
"You're throwing away an opportunity. Do you understand what a training position could do for your record? The connections you could make? You'd be fast-tracked for?—"
"I don't care," Elliot said, surprisingly assertive.
His father's expression didn't change, but his posture pulled taut. "What did you say?"
"I said, I don't care. About the promotion. Or the connections. Or whatever." Elliot kept his voice level. "I'm going."
"Captain Shaw."
"This isn't a discussion, sir." Blood rushed in his ears.
The General's jaw ticked. "Every door I've opened, every introduction I've made, every string I've pulled—it's all been to set you up for success. And you're going to throw it away because you want to play hero in some combat zone?"
The air around Elliot thinned. His chest contracted. It almost felt hard to breathe. "You didn't do it for me.”
"What?"
"You didn't do any of it for me. You did it for yourself." He met his father's gaze.
"That's ridiculous. You've excelled at every step. You wouldn't have made it this far if you didn't want it."
Elliot had been waiting thirty years to hear his father say he'd excelled at something. And now that he'd finally said it, it meant nothing.
"I made it this far because I was afraid to disappoint you." Elliot’s voice was still calm. Still controlled. But there was a bite to it now. "But I'm done."
His father stared at him. "You're making a mistake."
"I don’t think so.”
"Elliot—"
"I'm taking the deployment. And I'm not asking for permission."
The General's expression turned cold. Not angry—anger would have meant Elliot mattered. This was something else. Calculation. Reassessment. Like Elliot had failed an evaluation.
"Then I have nothing more to say to you."
Elliot stood at attention and saluted him. Then he turned to leave. He put three steps between them before coming to a halt.
