Chapter 9 - The Line in the Sand
Dad looked at the papers on the floor. For the first time all night, a flicker of true fear entered his eyes. Not because he felt guilty, but because his darkest secret—the deliberate sabotage of his daughter’s existence—was laid bare before the few remaining witnesses.
“You didn't need them,” Dad muttered, his voice suddenly hollow, defensive, and pathetic. “You had your fancy college friends. You had the brass. Derek needed the encouragement. Derek was struggling. If Helen had spent all her time bragging about you, Derek would have given up completely.”
“So you destroyed me to prop him up?” I asked.
“You weren't destroyed!” Dad yelled, his anger flaring back up. “Look at you! You’re a Colonel! You have everything! You’ve got a staff, you’ve got power, you’ve got a pension that’s twice the size of mine! What did Derek get? A bad knee and an honorable discharge!”
“Derek got what he earned, Dad,” I said, every trace of warmth vanishing from my voice. “And so did I.”
I turned to Brody. “Give me the dispatch, Marcus.”
Brody handed me the thick leather-bound folder he had brought from Washington. I didn't look at my father again. I opened the binder, pulled out the classified directive, and scanned the text.
It was a Presidential appointment order.
My nomination for promotion to Brigadier General had cleared the Senate Armed Services Committee forty-eight hours ago. Attached was an immediate redeployment directive to MacDill Air Force Base to take command of Special Operations Task Force Central.
As I signed my name along the confirmation line, the heavy glass entrance doors of the VFW hall swung open.
Two active-duty military police officers in immaculate combat dress, accompanied by a full-bird Colonel wearing the patch of the Army Criminal Investigation Division, walked into the foyer.
May you like
The entire room went dead silent once more.
The CID Colonel scanned the room, spotted Brody and me, and marched straight down the center aisle.
