Chapter 5 - The General at the Door
At first, I did not turn.
People had been coming and going all morning.
Then the courtroom changed.
Not loudly.
Row by row.
Whispers stopped.
Phones lowered.
My father looked up and stopped moving.
Grant’s smirk disappeared.
Even Judge Morrison lifted his eyes from the bench.
A tall older man stood in the doorway wearing a dark civilian suit. His silver hair was cut close. One hand rested on a cane, but nothing about him looked weak.
Beside him stood a female Air Force officer in dress blues, holding a sealed envelope with unreadable markings.
I knew him before the reporters did.
Brigadier General Thomas Halbrook.
Retired now.
But still unmistakable.
The last time I had seen him in person, blood had soaked through my glove while I dragged him behind concrete and kept him alive long enough for extraction.
He walked down the aisle without looking at my family.
Every camera turned.
Every whisper died.
He stopped beside my table.
Then, in front of my mother, my father, my brother, the judge, and the reporters who had come to watch me burn, General Halbrook raised his hand.
And saluted me.
“Colonel Mercer,” he said. “Permission to speak on your behalf.”
For the first time all day, I lifted my eyes.
Not to my family.
May you like
To him.
“Granted, General.”
