by Kaki Warner
The bastard! He was blackmailing her! Get out and shut up, or stay in and risk losing everything. KD was stunned. How could this be happening?
“Lieutenant Whitcomb.” The PHO’s voice broke through her spiraling panic. “It’s a fair resolution to a difficult situation. I suggest you consider Captain McCready’s offer and the stipulations.”
“When would she have to decide?” Bill asked.
“Today.”
“Then please excuse us, gentlemen, I’d like to talk to the lieutenant in private.”
* * *
* * *
Richard had finished filling the Camry at the PX service station closest to where he’d dropped off KD and Bill, when his cell phone buzzed. Caller ID said it was Chief Stranton. Muttering under his breath, he punched Accept and said, “Warrant Officer Murdock speaking.”
Stranton’s voice burst through the phone, “I’ve been getting calls from the Pentagon, the Wall Street Journal, the New York Times, even the Dallas Morning News, Fort Worth Star-Telegram, and Houston Chronicle, for God’s sake! You know why? Because of that fuck-up at FOB Hickock! The one you were supposed to take care of!”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“I don’t give a damn, Murdock! Ever heard of the SASC?”
“The Senate Armed Services Committee? Yes, sir.”
“How about Senator Roy Bob Tomlinson? Heard of him?” Before Richard could answer, he said, “He’s the senior senator from the state of Texas and a sitting member of that committee. Know what else he does? He writes letters of recommendation to West Point for deserving applicants. And guess who one of his biggest donors is.”
Richard was beginning to understand. “The Whitcomb family?”
“You’re a damn genius, Sherlock! He’s been rattling chains in the Pentagon, and now I’m getting calls from everybody and their grandmother. Well, shit flows downhill, Murdock, and it flows especially fast down the chain of command. I just got a face full of it and now it’s headed your way. I hear your reenlistment date has come up. You signed your separation papers yet?”
“I’m thinking about—”
“Quit thinking, Murdock! Just sign the damn papers and pack your bags! You’re better off leaving the service after the way you’ve handled this investigation. Any hope of future advancement in this army is deader than Osama bin Laden. Am I clear?” The call ended.
Richard stared at his cell. Fuck was that about?
Before he could put the phone away, it buzzed again. This time it was a text from Bill saying that they were finished and telling Richard where to meet them.
Richard left the gas station, hoping Bill could tell him what was going on. When he pulled up, he saw Bill and KD talking on a bench under a shade tree in a small grassy area between two buildings. As he walked toward them, he guessed by the slump of KD’s shoulders that things hadn’t gone well.
“What happened?” He stopped before them, his gaze pinned on KD. Her expression was similar to the one she’d worn after her group session days ago. Not quite as bleak, but still anxious and rattled. By contrast, Bill was smiling.
“It’s over. Done.”
“What is?”
“Everything. The hearing, the investigation—”
“My career,” KD cut in. Her eyes were suspiciously shiny, but no tears were falling. Yet. “I’ve been ordered to get out and shut up. Either that, or face a possible court-martial.”
“They’re also giving you a Purple Heart,” Bill reminded her.
“Whoop-de-do.”
Richard stood over them, feet spread, arms crossed over his chest, jaw clamped against rising anger as Bill explained that new evidence had come to light that convinced the army to cancel the hearing.
“What evidence?”
“Opposing counsel said it was classified. All he could tell us was that it was medical in nature and to say more would violate doctor-patient privacy.”
“This is the army,” Richard argued. “They own us. We have no privacy.”
“I know. Weird, isn’t it? They also attached two stipulations. KD and everybody she’s talked to about the shooting have to sign classified nondisclosures. As added incentive, she’ll be given a medical separation, along with full veteran benefits and a Purple Heart.”
“It’s blackmail!” KD burst out.
She was breathing fast again, that frantic look in her eyes. Richard wondered if she was having another anxiety attack, and what he could do to help her. Yet this time seemed different than before. Less anxiety and more fury. He didn’t know if that was an improvement or not.
“They wouldn’t even give me a chance to pass the fitness tests. Damn them!”
“They want her out and fast,” Bill said. “I’m not sure why.”
Richard thought of his last conversation with Dr. Erickson, and his earlier one with Chief Stranton. It was beginning to make sense. Maybe Erickson had found evidence of other victims of Farid’s pederasty, which would mean it had been going on for a while and right under the army’s nose. A PR nightmare. The big brains in the Pentagon must have decided that the best way to control the damage and cover their asses would be to classify the entire incident, cut KD out of the picture, and make everyone involved sign a nondisclosure agreement. “They’re afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Exposure.” Richard shook his head in disgust. “Politicians and bureaucrats, including those REMFs in the Pentagon, are like roaches. As soon as you shine a light on them, they run for cover. Their shortsighted look-the-other-way policy has created a PR nightmare, and now they’re trying to get out from under it.”
Richard told them about the heat Stranton had been getting from the press and Pentagon. “Apparently, even the SASC is involved. And a senator named Roy Bob Tomlinson.” He gave KD a thoughtful look. “Know anything about that, KD?”
She blinked up at him, a frown furrowing her brow. Then her eyes widened as understanding dawned. “Shit!” The frown gave way to baffled astonishment, which built into a full-throated laugh that held more despair than amusement. “Son of a bitch,” she cried, rocking on the bench, hands clasped to her head. “I was wrong. Mama really can boss everything.”
CHAPTER 10
Bill left that afternoon. KD was at her final appointment with the physical therapist, so Richard stood alone at the terminal window, watching his buddy’s westbound transport lift off the runway.
Now that Richard had decided to leave the service, they both knew they might never see each other again. The transient nature of military life didn’t encourage long friendships, and without that bond holding them together, it was easy for soldiers to drift apart once they separated from service.
Richard hoped that wouldn’t happen to him and Bill. He wasn’t close to many people, and being more solitary than social in nature, he didn’t collect friends as easily as others did. It hit him hard to see Bill go.
His mood was somber as he left the airport and drove to the Fort Hood Transition Center to start the long process of separating from the army. It wasn’t that he was second-guessing his decision to leave. Richard knew it was time. But by not re-upping, he would be walking away from a job he’d been good at, a rank he’d worked hard for, and a nice re-enlistment bonus. Not that the bonus was a deal maker or deal breaker. He wasn’t much of a spender or barfly, and without the expenses of a car, a house, or dependents for the last eight years, most of his pay had gone into the bank. But now he’d have to dip into those savings. Transitioning to civilian life would be costly.
Costly, but also exciting. Driving KD’s Camry these last few days had reminded him how much he enjoyed being behind the wheel. He was looking forward to picking his own destinations, going when and where he chose, maybe even taking a road trip through someplace he wanted to know better. Like Texas.
There was a word for that.
Oh, yeah. Freedom.
He soon learned that separating from the army was more complicated than joining it had been. Luckily, he’d had his annual medical and dental exams before he went to Afghanistan, so he could cross that off. And since he’d been undecided about re-upping, he’d already gone through pre-separation counseling, too. All he had left to do was fill out a pile of forms, then fly back to CENTCOM to complete the process, relinquish his badge and army-issue SIG M11 handgun, turn in his tactical gear, exchange his CID identification for a veteran ID card, then pack up his personal belongings. His last chore would be the discharge interview with his next-in-command, Chief Warrant Officer Stranton.
He wasn’t looking forward to that. Hopefully, Stranton would release him with minimal fuss and an honorable discharge. Then the separation process would slide beyond Richard’s reach into the shadowy, slow-moving realms of army bureaucracy. And that would be the end of his army career.
The finality of it panicked him a little. He would be on his own. No room and board. No military safety net. But no one breathing down his neck all the time, either. And assuming Stranton didn’t cancel his leave, Richard would depart with almost a month’s terminal leave pay in his pocket.
Several hours later, he left the Transition Center with a thick pouch of discharge paperwork, a confirmed seat on tomorrow’s early transport to MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, and a confirmed commercial return ticket to Killeen. In twenty-four hours, he’d be a free man with no home, no car, no job, but limitless options to go anywhere, do anything, or be whatever he wanted.
At 1530 hours—or 3:30 p.m., now that he was practicing to be a civilian—he was sitting in the CRDAMC parking lot, waiting for KD to finish her final appointment, and wondering if he’d soon be saying goodbye to her, too. He hoped not. His attraction to KD grew stronger every day, and the thought of her drifting out of his life forever bothered him a lot. More than a lot. But he didn’t know what to do about it.
She was a complicated lady. Tough, smart, capable. And as different from his ex-wife as a woman could be. But she was also suffering from the blow the army had dealt her that morning. He’d like to help but wasn’t sure how. Not that he wanted to be her rescuer. She wouldn’t allow that anyway. But what was he supposed to do with all these feelings he couldn’t act on? How was he supposed to break through all that armor she wore? Or should he even try?
A sudden thought bounced through his head and made him smile. KD hadn’t been in the army long enough to make many friends, and the person she’d felt closest to, Captain Mouton, had died. She probably felt as isolated as Richard did. Why else would she share a hotel suite with a man she barely knew? Maybe she needed him as much as he needed her.
His smile grew. Now that was something he could work with.
A few minutes later, she climbed into the car. “Lord, it’s hot. Quick, turn on the AC. Bill make his flight?”
Richard nodded and started the car. As soon as the AC came on, she leaned forward and held her collar open to the blast of air coming from the vent.
“How’d your appointment with PT go?” he asked as he pulled out of the lot.
“Good.” After adjusting the temp and fan speeds, she sat back with a deep sigh. “He said I’m done with rehab, as long as I walk two miles a day and don’t fall on my hip. Since McCready made me sign all the separation papers at the meeting yesterday—that jerk—all I have left is my therapy group tomorrow. I’ll have to come back later to pick up my Purple Heart and a copy of the completed DD 214, then I’m done. How about you?”
“Signed, sealed, and delivered, except to turn in my equipment and have my discharge interview with Stranton at CENTCOM tomorrow.”
“You have to go to Florida?”
Was that regret in her voice? Richard hoped so. “It’s a turnaround trip. I fly back into Killeen tomorrow night.” He wanted to ask if she’d still be here but was reluctant. He might not like the answer. “The army must be anxious to get rid of us. I never heard of separations happening so fast.”
She looked out the window as a squad trotted by, shouting out the Bravo on the Go marching cadence that was burned into every army recruit’s heart. “It’s sad,” she said in a wistful tone, “knowing we’ll never be a part of it again. I really loved being a soldier.”
Change was never easy. And for KD, leaving the army was more than just a change of career. It was also the loss of a dream. Reaching over the console, he took her hand in his. “So what do you want to do, babe?”
“I’m not hungry. You?”
“I mean what do you want to do now that you’re footloose and fancy free until you come back next month to get your Purple Heart.”
She thought for a moment. “After my group session tomorrow, I’d better go home to Rough Creek and tell my family I’m no longer in the service. That’s the bad news. The good news”—she shot him a weak imitation of the saucy grin that kept him awake at night—“is I’m hoping you’ll go with me.”
He grinned. Progress.
* * *
* * *
While Richard did laps in the hotel pool, KD changed into shorts and a tank top. As she packed her uniform into her suitcase, she realized when she returned to Hood in a month to get her Purple Heart, she would probably wear her dress blues for the last time. Next month might also be the last time she would hear “Reveille” blasting over the huge base speaker system, signaling the beginning of the duty day, or hear “Taps” played as the flag was lowered in the evening. Never again would she fall asleep to the distant whump of rounds exploding on the artillery range, or hear a troop leader call out the cadence as recruits trotted across the drill field. She had been so pumped to be a part of all that, so proud to wear the uniform. She had felt that she was making a difference being a part of something bigger than herself.
What was she to do now? And what was she to do about Richard? It surprised her to realize that separating from him might be harder than leaving the army.
With a sigh, she sank onto the foot of the bed and texted Mama that the Article 32 had been canceled and she would be coming home sometime this weekend. I’ll text you when. Since Warrant Officer Murdock is on leave, and Dalton wanted to talk to him, I’ll see if he wants to come with me. No texting shortcuts for Mama. Proper punctuation expected.
KD paused, wondering if now would be the time to tell her mother she was no longer in the military. She decided against it. She was still too angry. It had been a bad enough day without opening herself up to dozens of questions she wasn’t yet sure how to answer. So she ended with a simple Text you later. KD.
She was rummaging in the refrigerator, deciding what could be eaten and what should be tossed, when Richard came in, wearing trunks and a towel.
“I’m starved,” he said, tossing the key card on the counter and bending over the duffle by the door. “What’s for supper?”
“There’s a pack of chicken breasts left.” She turned to watch as he dug through his duffel, enjoying the play of muscles across his shoulders. Amazing how many muscles it took to accomplish such a simple task. When he straightened, clean shorts and a T-shirt in his hands, she shifted her attention back to the refrigerator. “Think they’re still good?”
“You’ll know when you open the package. I’ll get changed, then cook them on the grill by the pool.”
A few minutes later, after a thorough sniff test on the chicken breasts, Richard took them to the courtyard while KD put together a side dish containing everything that was still edible. Sort of a cross between a cold casserole and a salad. Strange but filling—if you were hungry enough and swallowed fast. That was something you learned in the military: Eat when you can, whatever you can, because you never know when you’ll have the chance again. She wouldn’t miss that.
They didn’t talk while they ate. Perhaps the day had been as hard on Richard as it had been on her since he’d invested a lot more years i
nto the army than she had. It had to bother him to walk away. Or maybe he was worried what her spontaneous invite to Rough Creek might mean. Introducing him to her family would push whatever was going on between them to a whole new level.
She felt like everything was changing around her and within her. She needed to adapt. Reinvent herself. Lieutenant KD Whitcomb was no more. So who was she now?
She looked over at Richard, head bent, totally focused on his meal. Maybe she could take her cue from him. He didn’t think of her as a soldier, or as Lieutenant Whitcomb, or Katherine Diane. To him, she was simply KD.
So from now on, that’s who she’d be. Simply KD Whitcomb.
* * *
* * *
Richard watched KD toy with her food and wondered why she was so quiet. Probably still upset about being forced out of service. Or maybe she was regretting that off-the-cuff invitation for him to come with her to Rough Creek.
He had concerns about that himself. Showing up at her home would bring questions he wasn’t sure how to answer. They weren’t a couple. And they certainly weren’t lovers. Not yet anyway, although he had high hopes. Buddies? Not on his part. He’d never felt about a buddy the way he felt about KD. But having whatever was happening between them play out in front of her family? That would be awkward as hell. Or it could be fun. He’d never know if they didn’t talk about it.
“So.” He pushed away his empty plate and leaned back in the chair. “Were you serious about me going with you to Rough Creek?”
She studied him for a moment. “Having second thoughts?”
Why did she always answer a touchy question with another question? “More like first thoughts, since you didn’t actually invite me and I didn’t actually accept.”
“Oh. Well, then.” Moving her own plate aside, she folded her arms on the tabletop and said in solemn tones, “Will you please come with me to my home in Rough Creek, Richard-something-Murdock-the-Third?”
