Chapter 2 - The Command Post
Sterling’s brow furrowed in confusion, but his arrogance quickly reclaimed his expression. “Get this trash out of my mess hall!” he barked at the two Military Police officers standing near the double doors. “Lock her in the brig for insubordination and assault on a senior officer!”
The two MPs hesitated, looking between Sterling and me. They knew as well as anyone that Sterling had struck first, but rank ruled Camp Vora. They stepped forward, placing their hands on their holsters.
“Don't touch me,” I told the MPs, stepping past them before they could grab my arms. I wiped another trickle of blood from my chin with the back of my sleeve and walked straight out the double doors into the pouring rain.
The cold water washed the grease from my face as I walked across the muddy parade grounds toward the Headquarters building. The MPs followed three paces behind, uncertain whether to draw their batons or simply escort me.
Inside the main command building, Captain Marcus Thorne—Sterling’s executive officer and chief enforcer—sat behind a mountain of paperwork. He looked up, his eyes widening slightly when he saw my bleeding face and the two MPs trailing me.
“What happened to her?” Thorne demanded, standing up.
“Major’s orders, Captain,” one MP replied. “Insubordination in the mess hall. She talked back after a recruit dropped a canteen.”
Thorne smirked, walking around the desk. “Ah, another one who thinks they can fight the tide. Put her in holding room B. We’ll draft the paperwork for her court-martial before the sun goes down.”
“You might want to hold off on that paperwork, Captain,” I said softly, standing tall despite the mud clinging to my boots.
Thorne scoffed. “You think you have a say in this, Specialist? You’re done. Your military career ends today in a federal penitentiary.”
“I’m not a Specialist, Marcus,” I said, using his first name without the mandatory rank protocol.
Thorne froze. His smirk vanished, replaced by a flicker of irritation. “Excuse me?”
I reached into my pocket, pulled out the leather-bound Inspector General credentials, and flipped them open on his desk. The gold crest gleamed beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. Beside it, I placed the silver colonel oak leaves.
May you like
“My name is Colonel Elena Vance,” I stated, my voice cutting through the hum of the air conditioner. “Pentagon Office of the Inspector General. As of three minutes ago, this base is under federal audit, and Major Sterling is the primary subject of a criminal investigation for treason, embezzlement, and assault on a superior officer.”
Thorne’s face drained of color. He looked down at the credentials, then up at my face, realizing in an instant that the woman his commander had just smashed into an aluminum tray was a high-ranking officer holding the authority to destroy them both.
