Chapter 26

Ryan

Commander Shepherd was bald, tall, and walked like he owned everything and everyone in his path. He strode down the hall with me, as straight up and down as a street lamp, if street lamps had muscles and the power to end my career.

“This way, Sir,” I said, and turned into the corridor leading up to my office. My heart couldn’t beat any fast, my mind couldn’t handle what I was sure was about to happen.

“I see what you mean about this place,” Shepherd said. “It’s gray. Every inch of it is gray.”

“That’s right, Sir. I think you’ll be very pleased when you meet our interior decorator. She’s got some plans that I think you’ll appreciate.”

“One problem at a time, Baker. First, we have to discuss our course of action moving forward.”

I beckoned Jameson, who’d positioned herself outside my office door to await our arrival – just in case she was needed. “Would you like some refreshments, Sir?”

“Coffee,” Commander Shepherd replied, “as hot and black as you can make it.”

“Same for me,” I said, to Jameson.

The Petty Officer pushed off from the wall and rushed to follow the instruction. And then we were alone, me and my future.

I held the door open for the Commander, and he swept past me, owning the room and everything in it as well. He didn’t sit down in the chair in front of my desk, instead, he swept around to my leather backed seat and took his place in it, then gestured for me to sit down too.

I did as he commanded, and Shepherd drew a Cuban out of his top pocket and a cigar cutter with it. He didn’t offer me anything, of course. “No ash tray?” he asked, and studied my clutter-free desk with disdain.

“No, Sir. I don’t smoke.”

“Pity,” Shepherd replied.

Jameson chose that moment to return with an entire pot of freshly brewed coffee and two clean mugs. She brought cream and sugar too, bless her, since I hadn’t asked for it.

“Got an ash tray on this base?” Shepherd asked her.

“Yes, Sir. I’ll retrieve one for you.” Jameson hurried out again, leaving a wake of controlled panic behind her. Everyone at the base wanted to know what would become of them, and of me. I was pretty sure my Petty Officers didn’t want to see me in prison.

We waited for Jameson’s return in silence, and I tracked the movement of clouds in the azure sky outside the window. It was a perfect day, for once. The gray bank had cleared to reveal the beauty of the mountain beneath it. Light glinted off the polished trucks, and the water had all but dried on the concrete, leaving only little puddles and wet tracks from soldiers boots to and from them.

Shepherd didn’t admire the view. He tapped the end of his cigar on my desk and stared at me. I didn’t dare ask him what was on his mind. He’d tell me when he was good and ready.

Finally, Jameson reappeared with an ash tray and placed it on the desk in front of the Commander. “Here you are, Sir.”

“Thank you. Dismissed.”

She saluted, then exited the office and closed the door behind herself.

Plunged into silence again, but this time disturbed by Shepherd’s cigar cutter and the frantic thoughts that screamed through my mind. Questions that didn’t have answers yet. Fuck, I had to calm down.

Shepherd finally lit up and puffed acrid cigar smoke into the space above his head. I longed to open my windows again and let it out, but that would only fast-track my demise.

“Is everything on this base made out of metal?” he asked, and moved the tin ash tray closer.

I gave a feeble smile. “As I said, we’re working on that, Sir.”

“Let’s talk, Baker.”

“Of course.”

“I’ve got to tell you, I don’t appreciate having to come down here, having to cut short my plans to check on a base I thought I left in good hands.”

“It is in good hands, Sir.”

Shepherd let fly another cloud of smoke. “Yes, well, that was what I thought until this incident with the boy.”

“He was a young man,” I replied.

“Baker, I don’t care if he was a senior citizen in a tiara and ballerina’s tutu,” Shepherd snapped, “he’s in hospital thanks to your lack of control over the operations of this base.”

I sagged under the weight of the accusation. I thought I had everything under control. “Sir, apart from this one small incident, nothing has gone wrong.”

“Small incident? Why don’t you call this Meller’s parents and convince them that their son in a coma is a small incident. I’m sure that will go down well,” Shepherd replied, and balanced his cigar on the edge of the ash tray.

“That wasn’t what I meant, Sir.”

Shepherd waved that away. “I trusted you, Baker. No one else would touch you after Mission Hubert. They thought you were damaged goods, that the PTSD had addled your decision-making process.”

My jaw dropped. “What?”

“Of course, no one would say that out loud, but that’s the general attitude they had toward you,” Shepherd continued, “but not me. I gave you a shot. I wanted you to prove that you were more than a collection of bad memories. Apart from Hubert, your record is flawless. Stunning.”

“I know,” I said, and balled my hands into fists in my lap. This was worse than I thought. “Sir, this wasn’t something I could control. Whitmore went missing while we were in Meek Springs to fetch supplies.”

“Two questions,” Shepherd said, “where were you when he went missing? And why were you with him on a supply run?”

“Sir, I – we were in the local bar. Trapped because of a storm. And I went with him because –”

“You wanted to have a good time?”

“No! I’m not like that, Sir. I’m dedicated to my men. I went to fetch a few items of a delicate nature with which I didn’t trust Whitmore.”

“Then why was Whitmore in charge of a supply run?” Shepherd asked, and picked up the cigar again. He rolled it between his fingers. “If you didn’t trust him.”

“He – I – Sir, it’s not that I didn’t trust him in general, it was just that these were specific items requested by the interior decorator on the base. Requested directly from me.”

“So? You’re the commanding officer here. Why would you go yourself?” Shepherd asked, and narrowed his eyes at me.

“Because I had my suspicions about Whitmore prior to this trip, but I didn’t have enough evidence to act on them. I believed that he was envious of my position at the base and wanted to discredit me. He also expressed ill will toward the operation to revamp the base’s interior and believed it to be a waste of time.” I took a deep breath. I couldn’t let on how I felt about Chanel. Whitmore would certainly blab that part to the Commander as soon as he got the opportunity. “I was concerned that he’d attempt to sabotage her work.”

Shepherd puffed on the cigar and studied me through a curtain of smoke. “The situation would’ve been better controlled if you’d swapped him out on the roster for someone else.”

“I understand, Sir. Hindsight is 20-20.”

“I agree on that point,” Shepherd replied, and killed the cigar in the ash tray this time. “I believe this was a slip up. I believe that Whitmore is probably out of control and your suspicions were likely correct, but that you made a series of ill choices leading up to this point.”

“Sir, you’re not suggesting that I could’ve stopped Whitmore from –”

“This isn’t a debate, Baker.” Shepherd sniffed, then brushed his fingertips along the edges of the desk. Finally, he halted at the corners, then placed his elbows on the surface. “I’ve made my decision.”

“Regarding what, Sir?”

“Your position on this base. Your station as Lieutenant Commander.”

I held my breath.

“I don’t believe you were prepared for this responsibility. You’re more than capable physically, mentally, but emotionally? I believe this was too much for you and your judgment has been clouded. I’m well aware that Whitmore was your friend. I believe you went easier on him than you could have.”

I listened intently, still unable to breathe or move. Christ, was this the end for me?

“I’m going to have you reassigned to another base. Hawaii, most likely. You’ll be taken back down to the rank of Petty Officer until you’ve shown that you’re ready to progress.”

The room swayed, the walls curved inward. This couldn’t be happening. I’d worked damn hard to keep this base running smoothly, to provide for everyone here.

“It will do you good, and it will ensure that the people in town realize that action is being taken up here.”

“Sir, if you want to take action throw Whitmore in prison. He’s the one who did this.”

“As I said, this is not a debate, Baker.” Shepherd’s pitying gaze hardened up. “I want you to be evaluated again, as well. And after that, you’re going to see a psychologist weekly. Once you’re in Hawaii.”

And that was that. I’d already been relocated.

My thoughts darted in every direction, and came to rest on Chanel. I had to leave her. I’d fallen in love with her and I had to leave her here, with her overbearing mother and a town full of yokels who believed in super soldiers and– Jesus, no!

I gripped the edge of the desk. “Please, Commander, give me another chance to prove myself.”

“No,” Shepherd said. “The decision’s already been made. Now, please fetch this interior decorator so I can hear her presentation.”

I forced myself to stand, to move my legs. One foot, then the other toward the door. I stopped and opened it, then looked back at Commander Shepherd. “Sir, the presentation will take place in the conference room. Jameson will escort you there.”

“Very well,” he said.

I left him there and strode down the hall, shaking on the inside, screaming. It wasn’t that I cared about the rank or the demotion. It wasn’t the base I’d worked to build up. It was leaving Chanel behind.

Three minutes later I was in front of her office door. I knocked once and she opened up.

“Hey,” she said, and smiled up at me, but it faltered. “What’s wrong? You’re pale.”

“Commander Shepherd is waiting for you in the conference room.” The voice came from me, but it was detached. My mouth said the words, though I hadn’t thought them. “It’s time for your presentation.”

“Okay, but you’re freaking me out, Ryan. You’re speaking like a robot. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been reassigned. I’m leaving for Hawaii.”

“W-what?” Her face fell. “No, that’s not right. You can’t leave.”

I shrugged. I couldn’t say anything else. I wanted to hug her pain away, kiss her lips and dissolve into nothingness with her, but it would only make things worse when we had to leave. She wasn’t prepared for a life in the Navy.

I wouldn’t have her moving around the countryside with me, and she probably wouldn’t want to. She might not like it in Meek Springs, but at least she had stability.

“Ryan, you can’t go,” she whispered, and her bottom lip shook. The cards she was holding, the ones for her presentation, slipped from her grip and scattered across the floor. “Please, I can’t – don’t leave me. Please.” She reached for me.

I backed up two measured steps. “Commander Shepherd is waiting for you,” I said, then I turned and walked off, back to my office to pack my things. I didn’t know how much longer I had, but if I spent it with Chanel, it would destroy me when I had to leave.

A piteous sob echoed down the hall.