Chapter 4
Colonel Warren turned fully to address the yard. "Fall out. Report to the training office for reassignment of today's evaluation. This block is being redone, properly, starting with a briefing I clearly should have given you all myself." He glanced at me, something like genuine respect settling into his expression now that the shock had passed. "Ma'am, will you need transport back to the strip, or are you continuing the assessment?"
"I'm continuing it," I said. "Three more units to visit this week, Colonel. This is just the first stop." I adjusted the torn shirt over my shoulder, picked my weathered backpack back up, and walked toward the next obstacle station without waiting for an escort, because I never had, and I wasn't planning to start now.
Behind me, I heard Reeves ask quietly, to no one in particular, "Who is she, actually?"
May you like
Colonel Warren's answer carried just far enough for me to hear it. "Son, you're better off not knowing exactly. Just know that whatever she reports about how we treated her this morning follows every one of us for the rest of our careers. Let's make sure the next report reads better than this one."
I didn't look back. I never do. But I made a note, the way I always did, that this particular unit had learned the lesson the hard way, and that the next one, hopefully, wouldn't need a torn shirt and a colonel's salute to understand the same thing I'd been trying to teach every training yard I walked into for the last six years.
