Chapter 5 - The Fall of the Golden Boy
Brody’s words hit the room like a fragmentation grenade.
The retired sergeants major at the front tables stood up. In the military, rank is respected, but decorum is sacred. An enlisted man laying hands on an officer—let alone his own daughter in front of an entire community—crossed every boundary of military law and basic human decency.
“You don't talk to my dad like that!” Derek barked, taking an aggressive step toward Brody, puffing out his chest in a desperate bid to reclaim some semblance of masculine control. “You don't know what he sacrificed! He was in Desert Storm while she was in elementary school! You think you can just march in here and disrespect him?”
Brody didn't flinch. He didn't even shift his weight. He looked at Derek the way a timber wolf looks at a field mouse.
“Derek Vance,” Brody said calmly, pulling a smaller, secondary folder from under his dress coat.
Derek froze. “What?”
“Specialist Derek Vance. Discharged 2018. 3rd Brigade Combat Team, 10th Mountain Division.” Brody opened the tab. “October 12th, 2016. Operation Resolute Support. Your patrol was ambushed outside of Ghazni province. You took small arms fire, your lead vehicle was immobilized by an anti-tank mine, and you were pinned down behind a mud wall for four hours.”
Derek’s face went dead white. All the swagger evaporated from his shoulders. His knees seemed to tremble beneath his trousers. “How... how do you know about that?”
Dad looked between Derek and Brody, confusion shattering his rage. “Derek? What is he talking about? You said your unit wiped out an entire Taliban cell in Ghazni.”
Brody continued, reading directly from the combat report: “The platoon was out of communication range. The Quick Reaction Force was grounded due to weather. The only asset capable of redirecting an AC-130 gunship to suppress enemy fire was an intelligence task force operating out of Bagram Airfield under direct operational command of a Lieutenant Colonel Morgan Vance.”
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The silence in the room became absolute. You could have heard a pin drop on the carpeted dais.
Brody looked up from the paper, his gaze locking directly onto Derek’s terrified eyes. “Your sister was the senior watch officer who personally authorized the danger-close airstrike that cleared the ridge twenty yards from your position. She stayed awake for forty-eight hours straight coordinating the medevac that pulled you out with shrapnel in your leg. She never put her name on the after-action report because she didn't want the division command to know her brother was involved.”
