She turned and smiled coldly. “Funny, I wouldn’t think you’d be casting too many stones considering you were relieved from command for malfeasance, Captain.”
Marshall’s smile could have cut glass. Marshall shrugged. “I figured since you’re blowing Teague, you’ve sacrificed any right to be called by your rank.”
Olivia’s smile didn’t budge. “I’m sorry, Captain, but when exactly did I grant you permission to talk to me that way?”
“Marshall!” Marshall stiffened as Gilliad came out of his office. “Get your fucking ass outside my office, Captain. You’re in enough goddamned trouble without adding cursing at my staff to your file.”
Olivia stepped out of his way as he stomped down the hallway.
She wisely kept her mouth shut as she walked into Gilliad’s office. She’d never seen Gilliad so furious. His breathing was labored and rough. His fists clenched by his sides.
“How many packets is Ben Teague sitting on?”
“Sir?”
He slammed his hand on his desk. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Major Hale. I am not in the fucking mood to be lied to.” He sucked in a hard, ugly breath. “Now then. How many packets.”
Olivia lifted her chin. “Sir, you will not talk to me that way.”
Gilliad came around the desk. He didn’t approach her. He didn’t have to. She could feel the rage radiating off him like a physical thing. “I’m going to ask you one more time, Major.”
“Sir, if you’re accusing me of something, say it. But I’m not going to stand here and be threatened.”
He yanked a file off his desk and thrust it at her. “Late packets. Teague’s. And yet you never briefed me on any of them.”
“Sir, they were not outside the window requiring your direct involvement. If you want to command each individual company, you don’t need the captains.”
His jaw twitched. There was violence in his eyes. The muscle in one cheek spasmed. “Sergeant Major!”
She felt the blast from his shout. Still she did not move, not when Sergeant Major Cox walked in. Not when he closed the door behind him.
“I want every first sergeant and commander in this office in the next twenty minutes. We’re going to go line by line over every single packet in this battalion.”
“Roger, sir.” Beside her, Cox sniffed. “Teague is outside.”
“By all means, send him in and let’s see what he’s got to say for himself.”
She held her breath when Ben walked in and stood at the position of attention beside her. His expression was still raw, still aching. It was too soon for any attempt to talk to him. He needed time. She could do that. He was reeling from the news about Escoberra.
That didn’t make standing next to him, unable to offer any comfort, any easier.
“Teague, how many packets have you processed?”
Beside her, he stiffened. “Twelve, sir.”
Gilliad looked down at his list. “What about Zittoro?”
“Zittoro is on emergency leave, sir.”
Gilliad’s cheek twitched again. “Who gave you permission to put him on leave?”
She heard his quick intake of breath and held her own. Shit, this was going to be bad.
Ben’s words were carefully measured. “Sir, I wasn’t aware that you were the approving authority for leaves and passes. I thought that was well within the scope of my duties.”
Gilliad’s nostrils flared violently. “Don’t get fucking smart with me, Teague. Now is not the fucking time.”
Beside her, Ben stiffened. “As opposed to a more appropriate time? When would that be, sir?”
“I want Zittoro out of the army today, do you understand me?”
“He’s on leave, sir. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Today.”
Ben shook his head, looking straight ahead. “I can’t do that, sir.”
Gilliad pinned him with a hard look. Olivia held her breath. “Are you telling me you’re going to disobey a lawful order?”
“Sir, I’m telling you I can’t comply with that order.”
Gilliad said nothing for an impossible space of time. Olivia felt sweat running down her spine but she didn’t dare move. Gilliad sank down into his chair.
* * *
Ben couldn’t remember his commander ever looking so worn down. Ben had a new appreciation for what his commander was going through. After last week, Ben wanted to keep a flask in his desk. “When were you going to tell me about Escoberra?” Gilliad asked quietly.
“Sir, I informed you that he was admitted over the weekend.”
“You did not tell me that he’d been beating his daughter and threatening his family,” Gilliad said quietly. “How am I supposed to trust you if you can’t tell me the truth?”
“Sir, I never lied to you.”
Gilliad pinned him with a cold, hard look. “If I have to give you a class on lying by omissions still being lying, Captain Teague, I don’t think I need you as a commander,” Gilliad said quietly.
Ben sighed quietly. “Sir, the hospital diagnosed Escoberra with severe traumatic brain injury. I’ve got the paperwork to send him to San Antonio for a treatment program.”
“This is the man we just said was beating on his family?” Gilliad said. “Is that what we’re doing with domestic abusers now? Rewarding them with treatment?”
“Sir, I have to agree with Bandit Six,” Sergeant Major Cox said. “Escoberra needs treatment, not punishment.”
“You’ve never agreed with me a day in your life.” Ben glanced at the sergeant major. “Who are you and what have you done with Sergeant Major Cox?”
But the joke fell flat, coated in the barely restrained fury in Ben’s voice.
“Now isn’t the time, Teague,” Sergeant Major said out of the side of his mouth.
“I’m not sending Escoberra to a treatment program. I want that son of a bitch out of my army immediately.”
Sergeant Major Cox moved to stand next to Ben. “Sir, I think it’s time you and I had a long talk.”
Gilliad glared at both of them. “Everyone get the fuck out of my office. If those packets aren’t processed by close of business today, Teague, you’re out of a fucking job.”
Ben opened his mouth to speak but Olivia grabbed him, dragging him out of the office before he could stick his foot into his mouth any further.
“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed.
“I don’t need you to save me from myself. He wants to fire me over Escoberra, fine. Fucking fine. I quit. I never wanted the goddamned job in the first place.”
“You don’t mean that.”
He ripped the rank off the center of his chest and threw it at her feet. “Try me.”
* * *
Ben stalked out of the headquarters. His lungs ached; his shoulders were tight and tense with unspent anger and frustration. This was what completely losing his shit felt like.
He knew it all too well.
It had been a good five years since he’d last taken his rank off and thrown it at someone’s feet.
“You keep quitting, one of these days someone is going to take you seriously.”
“I’m not in the mood, Iaconelli,” Ben snapped.
“I can see that,” Reza said mildly, falling into step next to him as Ben stalked furiously away from the headquarters. Away from work. Away from the noise and the chaos and the burning betrayal of the leaders around him.
Ben rounded on his longtime friend. “I never wanted this fucking job. You, Gilliad, everyone pushed me to take it. I should have fucking resigned my goddamned commission.”
“So why didn’t you?” Reza stepped right into his face, shoving him backward. “Why the fuck did you take the goddamned job? You could have refused. You could have walked away just like you did. But you picked up the fucking guidon and you ran with it.” He shoved Ben back a little bit. “Don’t blame this on anyone but yourself. You could have refused. You didn’t.”
“Don’t get on your high fucking
horse right now, Reza.”
Reza jammed his index finger into Ben’s chest. “I’m tired of you running and acting like a scared little boy every time something gets a little rough.”
“That’s really rich, coming from you. You’ve been out of the bottle for what, sixty days this time?”
Reza ground his teeth, the muscles in his jaw pulsing violently. “This isn’t about me. This is one hundred percent about you.”
“No, it’s not. It’s about them.” He motioned behind him toward the wall of names, etched forever into the cold, black granite memorial. “It’s about all of them,” he whispered.
“No.” Reza moved to stand next to him. “It’s about you. You can’t bring them back. Fighting with your battalion commander doesn’t bring a single one of them back.” Reza gripped his shoulder. “And getting yourself fired doesn’t help guys like Escoberra and Foster and Zittoro. Those are the boys you can still help. But not if you get yourself fired. Or quit.”
“What’s the point, Reza? What’s the point of this job if I can’t even do anything to help my guys? Nothing I do is going to make a goddamned difference and the battalion commander is flipping his shit about these packets.”
Reza scoffed quietly. “He’s a little tense right now. The brigade commander threatened to relieve him this morning.”
Ben looked over at Reza. “How do you know that?”
“Overheard the conversation at PT.”
Ben couldn’t summon a single emotion. Not outrage. Not sympathy. “Not sure I really care,” he said after a moment.
“You can’t bring any of them back,” Reza said. “But you can make a difference now.” He paused, letting the silence hang heavy between them. “But it starts with putting that rank on your chest and being a goddamned leader. Standing up for your men is the most important thing you can do,” Reza said quietly.
“Escoberra needs to be transferred to Fort Sam and there’s no fucking way the boss is going to let that happen now.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. The sense of defeat was crushing. But beneath the defeat was a faint seed of hope.
Faint but there.
“Wait until tomorrow. Talk to the boss then.” Beside him, Reza sighed. “But don’t quit. You’re better than that.”
* * *
It was a long time before Ben walked back into his company ops.
Sorren was waiting for him. Near his hand on the conference room table sat Ben’s rank.
And Sorren looked ready to whip Ben’s ass.
“You quitting on me, sir?” Sorren said.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Ben said.
Sorren tossed the rank at him, slamming Escoberra’s packet onto the table in front of him. “You need to make a decision and stick with it. I’m not going to deal with you getting PMS once a week and quitting on me every time the commander chews your ass.”
Ben let the rank fall to his feet. He stood there and stared at it for a long moment.
“Pick the fucking rank up.”
Ben didn’t move for a long time. Then he picked up the rank and pressed it back to his chest.
“I’ll be right back,” Ben said softly, picking up Escoberra’s file.
It was a long walk to battalion.
Reza was probably right. He should probably wait until tomorrow when the commander wasn’t still pissed.
But this couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Every day they waited on Escoberra was a day that he got worse. It was a day that Escoberra spent not getting help.
He knocked on Gilliad’s door.
The commander looked up, his eyes dark and furious.
Ben stepped into his office, closing the door behind him. “Sir, we need to talk.”
“I’m not in the mood right now, Teague,” Gilliad said.
It was too soon. Ben didn’t care.
“Sir, I need you to sign this.”
“I thought I was clear,” Gilliad said quietly.
“Sir, command isn’t about being a hard-ass for the sake of being a hard-ass. Sometimes, the hardest thing in the world is to be kind. To be merciful.” He sucked in a deep breath. “You can do the army thing right now.” He released it slowly. “Or you can do the right thing.” Another breath. “Sign the paperwork, sir. Do the right thing.”
Gilliad studied him. The silence stretched on, the ticking of the wall clock behind Ben the only sound in the dead empty quiet. “This doesn’t guarantee he’ll get better,” Gilliad said quietly. “We’ll be wasting time and money.”
“It might be, sir,” Ben acknowledged. “But it’s a chance. And right now, hope is the most powerful thing Escoberra has going for him.”
It was a long time before Gilliad moved.
* * *
It was late. The company ops was long since deserted but Ben and Sorren sat at the table in the middle of their orderly room. It was a comfortable silence. Silence that didn’t need to be filled.
There was a quiet knock on the door.
Ben looked up to see Escoberra standing in the doorway. His throat closed off and just like that, the anxiety was back. Tighter. Making it harder to breathe.
“Hey, sir.” Escoberra looked tired. “Sorry I’m late, Top.”
Sorren pushed a chair away from the table. “Don’t worry about it. You’re here. Have a seat.”
Ben glanced at his first sergeant over the top of Escoberra’s head.
Sorren nodded once, tacit acknowledgment that they were on the same page. Ben had always heard about command teams that could read each other’s minds, but this was the first time it had ever happened to him personally.
The scar on Ben’s stomach ached as he sat across from Escoberra. “So listen,” he said. His voice broke. He cleared his throat then tried again. “We got some paperwork back from the docs.”
Escoberra’s eyes went wide. Ben had never seen the man more afraid than he was at that moment. “It’s not…”
Ben reached across the table, gripping his old platoon sergeant’s forearm. “You’re sick. You’re not dying. And we’re going to get you some help.”
There it was, all of it. No beating around the bush. No empty platitudes. The rank on his chest was a lead weight. The facts were hard and ugly. But if the rank on his chest was worth anything at all, it was for this.
It was to make a difference. To give someone hope.
“What’s wrong with me?”
Ben slid him the folder that Olivia had given him earlier that day. He said nothing while Escoberra read the paperwork.
He was not prepared for Escoberra’s eyes to fill. “I really did it.” He covered his mouth with his hands. “I really beat up my baby girl?”
It was Sorren who spoke. He gripped Escoberra’s shoulder tightly. “You didn’t do it on purpose. We can get you help.”
“But it involves you taking a knee for a while,” Ben said. “You need to move to San Antonio. They’ve got a real intense treatment program.”
As long as he’d known him, Ben had never seen the big man at a loss for words. Not when Ben had gotten blown up. Not when the world had gone to shit around them.
But sitting there, facing the reality of what he’d done, Ben felt the weight of command heavy around his shoulders.
Escoberra looked at him then. “I’m going to have to get out of the army, aren’t I?”
Ben swallowed, the knot heavy and thick in his chest. “I don’t know. But right now, I think the best thing you can do is try to take some time for you. To try and get healthy.” He couldn’t save his friend. He didn’t even know if treatment would help. But it was something. A tiny ray of hope.
It wasn’t enough to make up for the distance between them.
Escoberra nodded, saying nothing for a long, long time. “Thank you.” He met Ben’s eyes. “For not giving up on me.”
Ben didn’t tell him he almost had. But instead, Ben remained silent, keeping his doubt, his shame to himself.
Escoberra left. Sorren walked him out.
Ben sa
t for a long, long time at the table. It should have felt good, getting his commander to sign the paperwork. It should feel good, knowing he’d been right about Escoberra.
But it didn’t feel good.
It was a relief but it was heavy. There was no happily ever after.
But it was hope.
And for now, it was enough.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Private First Class Zittoro, Anthony.”
Ben looked up at Zittoro as he read through the rest of the packet that would formally end Zittoro’s army career.
Zittoro’s hands were steady today. His eyes a little more clear.
And Ben felt that tiny seed of hope bloom inside him into something deeper. Something with roots.
“I already signed up for a class at Central Texas College,” Zittoro said after he signed the paperwork.
Ben closed the folder. “Yeah? You’re staying around here then?”
Zittoro nodded. “No point in going home,” he said. “This is the closest thing I’ve got.” He cleared his throat. “I’m moving in with Foster. Figure the two of us can maybe try to help each other stay clean.”
Ben smiled. “You two are going to be nothing but trouble.” But trouble in a good way, Ben hoped.
“Yeah, well, maybe.” Zittoro looked at Ben then. “Thank you, sir. For doing this for me.”
A lump blocked Ben’s throat. He nodded. “It was the right thing to do,” he said when he could speak.
* * *
Olivia found him sitting in his office. The lights were out; the only illumination came from his computer monitor. The light from his computer screen saver slid over his features. Smoke from a cigar wafted through the dim light, glittering darkly with dust.
Fatigue was carved into every shadow on his face.
“All the paperwork is signed,” she said quietly, nudging the door closed behind her.
He looked up at her then stood. Emotion slowly filled his eyes once more and he offered a tired smile before opening his arms. She crossed the tiny space between them and slid into his embrace.
Slipped between his thighs and wrapped her arms around his waist. It was a simple embrace. Nothing erotic. Nothing sexual. Just an offer of support after an emotionally draining week. An offer of warmth in the cold turbulence that had raged around them both.
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