Chapter 7 - A Father's Rage
General Vance walked out of the hall, and like dominos falling, the rest of the high-ranking guests began to gather their coats.
The celebration was dead. The atmosphere was poisoned.
Dad stood in the center of the emptying floor, his breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. When he finally looked back at me, there was no shame in his eyes. There was no realization of his failures. There was only pure, unadulterated venom.
“You’re proud of yourself, aren't you?” he spat, taking two steps toward me, his hands clenching into white-knuckled fists at his sides.
“Richard, don't,” Frank Reynolds warned, stepping into his path.
Dad shoved Frank out of the way. “Get out of my face, Frank!” He rounded on me again. “You orchestrated this! You’ve been planning this for years, haven't you? Ever since you put that damn uniform on! You wanted to wait until the one night I was supposed to be honored, the one night my career meant something, and you brought your lapdog in here to execute me!”
“I didn't plan anything, Dad,” I said, feeling an icy calm settle over my heart. The emotional girl who used to cry in the bedroom because her father didn't love her was long gone, buried beneath years of war, command, and survival. “Marcus came with emergency orders. You are the one who grabbed me. You are the one who grabbed the microphone and told eighty people I was your 'little puppy' who fetched your slippers.”
“Because that's what you are!” Dad roared, losing all control, his spit flying across the space between us. “You think because you wear an eagle on your shoulder, you’re better than me? I was wading through Iraqi mud while you were doing homework! I earned every stripe on my sleeve with sweat and blood! You got yours in air-conditioned offices signing execution orders from behind a desk!”
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“She has three combat action badges and two Bronze Stars with Valor, Richard,” Brody growled, his hand resting on the hilt of his dress saber, his voice dropping an octave into pure lethality. “If you insult her service one more time, I will have the military police take you out of this building in restraints.”
“Let them try!” Dad screamed. “This is my town! This is my post!”
