Chapter 4 - THE BARTENDER’S INTERVENTION
Bull cracked his neck from side to side, taking three heavy, aggressive strides toward Alexis, his large hands reaching out to grab her by the collar of her field jacket.
CLANG!
A heavy glass pitcher slammed down against the mahogany bar top with deafening force.
"Gunny," Pete's voice cut through the silence of the tavern like an iron blade.
Bull stopped mid-stride, turning his head in annoyance toward the bar. "Stay out of this, Pete. The lady needs a lesson in military hierarchy."
Pete stood behind the counter, his hands resting flat on the polished wood. He didn't look angry; he looked genuinely, deeply concerned—not for the blonde woman standing by the rail, but for the decorated Gunnery Sergeant who was two seconds away from ending his military career on a barroom floor.
"You might want to stop right there, Marcus," Pete said softly, his voice carrying an intense, grounding gravity that made the surrounding patrons lean in.
Bull scoffed, letting out a short, sarcastic laugh as he gestured toward the overturned chairs and spilled beer. "What's the matter, Pete? You scared I'm gonna break your precious antique furniture?"
Pete kept his gray eyes locked squarely on Alexis's face, offering her a subtle, respectful tilt of his head before looking back at Bull.
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"No, Marcus," Pete said, his voice dropping into a somber, gravelly register. "I'm scared you're making the single worst mistake of your entire career."
The entire tavern fell into a dead, suffocating silence. The jukebox ended its track, leaving only the quiet humming of the beer coolers and the distant whistle of the wind against the front windows.
