Part 16 (1/2)
Miz? Mister? What the f.u.c.k? I thought that went out with c-rations.
Jamie fended off a wave of dizziness. Oh. I get it. They're being polite 'til they disarm me. After which I'll get dragged away in chains. She laid down the Chinese rifle, then pulled her pistol from its holster and put it on the ground.
”Yes, ma'am,” Jamie said. Turning to face Embry, she caught Zachary's smile. A small, satisfied smile. What the f.u.c.k?
”...And our momentum,” Embry was saying into his comlink, ”depends on having reliable leaders.h.i.+p now in those key units.” Embry listened, then shook his head. ”In my judgment, sir, we have no other option...Mmm, let's just say several...Yes, sir, I'll make d.a.m.n sure they stay below the media radar.”
Having induced the air to leave her lungs, Jamie found inhaling difficult. She managed only a strained, wheezy, ”Sir!” when the major general terminated the link. Oh G.o.d, here it comes.
”Mr. Koenig has been relieved,” Embry said as soon as he steered her out of the corpsman's earshot. ”I'd like you to take his command.
And his rank. Right now, so this platoon remains mission-ready.” Jamie gaped at him. ”What?”
”It's a combat appointment-what civilians call a battlefield commission,” Zachary said, her tone congenial despite Jamie's lapse in military decorum. ”Will you accept it?”
Zachary held out Koenig's rank insignia in the palm of her hand.
Jamie stared at them, blinked, and gaped once more at the major general.
”You want to make me a first lieutenant?” she asked, heretofore unaware that such a thing was even possible. ”You can do that? After I-? Sir, you saw what I-”
”Yeah, I saw. In my judgment, you made the best possible move.
And yes, I d.a.m.n well can kick your a.s.s into a commission. Only one person can stop me now: You.”
* 136 *
”But-”
”Look, Jamie.” Embry's hand claimed her shoulder. ”I know you'll see some flak. The Pentagon likes to pretend there hasn't been any need for combat appointments since the Viet Nam Conflict back in the nineteen sixties and seventies. But even the Joint Chiefs admit to a leaders.h.i.+p problem that business-as-usual promotion rules have made worse. So they've developed some legal workarounds to keep this brigade at required force levels. Fact is, you're not the first we've boosted this way, and you sure as h.e.l.l won't be the last. We need to leverage the experience of people like you who know their way around here, know what works and what doesn't. Because for this one we've always got to occupy the moral high ground. We absolutely must keep the population of Palawan on our side. And that takes skill.”
”Iron fist in a velvet glove.”
”Exactly.” Embry's eyes flashed with a man-do-I-know-how-to-pick-them delight that Jamie could see but couldn't quite believe.
”We'll win faster and our win will stick if we can avoid significant uptick for as long as possible. Maybe even avoid it altogether. So we need leaders in the right positions who grasp that, who work hard, work smart, and can keep marines alive and effective without beating the c.r.a.p out of this place. I had you figured for this after what you did in Puerto Princesa.”
For a second, just a second, the light in Embry's eyes changed.
Jamie could have sworn his eyes twinkled. No! This is insane!
”I just didn't figure it'd happen this soon. But I learned a long time ago to take opportunity where I find it.” Embry's hand, still on her shoulder, firmed its grip and kept rhythm with his words. ”You made a difference today. Proved you can do a one-lite's job. And the Three-Eight needs a one-lite-not a two-lite, not an NCO-running its snipe platoon.”
”Sir, I don't think I'm suited for-”
The index finger of Embry's other hand pressed lightly against her lips and she stopped breathing. ”I saw you there,” he almost whispered, ”that night at the airport, thumping and pounding away. I saw you give your people exactly what they needed exactly when they needed it.
Real leaders.h.i.+p.”
Are you crazy? I wasn't leading anyone. I was fighting with my girlfriend. I stubbed my d.a.m.n toe...
* 137 *
”And I need that leaders.h.i.+p, Jamie. The Three-Eight needs that leaders.h.i.+p. Don't stop now. Not now.”
His eyes drilled into hers while his finger slowly retreated from her lips. Released, she gulped for air. Oh G.o.d. Marty. Jamie ripped her gaze away from Embry and let it float upward. The sky had deepened into a rich, soothing blue. Oh G.o.d. She ached to escape into the calm, the freedom of so much blue.
On her shoulder, Embry's hand twitched. Reluctantly, Jamie brought her eyes back to him and exhaled. ”Okay. I'll accept the appointment, sir.”
”Good girl,” Embry said and proffered his right hand. His grip was strong but had no need to dominate; he didn't release Jamie's hand until he finished speaking.
”Your appointment is permanent. Already approved upchain.
Takes effect today. Right now. Means your enlistment has ended and you're no longer a scout/sniper, since commissioned officers are not permitted that honor. But you will have the honor of commanding scout/snipers.”
”Yes, sir.” Jamie couldn't pull her eyes away from the man. She had plunged and now she was falling and falling and everything was upside down. She had no idea what to do next.
Perhaps it showed, because Embry returned his hand to her shoulder in a way that struck her as fatherly. ”When you get off this mountain, go straight over to Eighth Regiment HQ to sign on those dotted lines and pick up your certificate of commission. It'll be ready by the time you get there. Zach's informing your battalion commander of your appointment as we speak. He'll approve whomever you recommend to replace you, and he'll be instructed to run interference with the desk jockeys to get it done ay-sap. Especially if you promote from within your platoon, which I encourage you to do.”
”Yes, sir, I certainly will.”
”After that, I want you to just keep on doing what you've been doing. Your S-Two-Pinsof, right?-will help you with the admin bulls.h.i.+t. And good luck , First Lieutenant.”
”Thank you, sir.”
A smile, a final pat on her shoulder, and the major general walked off, already talking into his comlink again. Wait! she wanted to call to him. I'm not ready yet.
* 138 *
Chapter Fourteen.
Ma'aM Christ all-f.u.c.king mighty. Propped on a stool, elbows splayed on the rough wooden bar, Jamie put her hands to her face and rubbed. I can't f.u.c.king believe I f.u.c.king said yes. She kept her eyes closed. Otherwise she'd look at Rhys again. That had been hard enough the first time, after she'd returned from the regimental FOB. Because of course, Rhys already knew. Rhys even knew where to find her and when.
”So is there anything you don't know?” Jamie had joked when she came upon Rhys standing just outside the Three-Eight's FOBCOC.
”Oh yeah.” Rhys didn't smile. ”Plenty. Ma'am.” Ma'am. Jamie's stomach had turned at the sound. She wanted to halt on the spot and plead with Rhys to have some pity, try to understand; she wanted to yell at Rhys to never, ever call her that. But she said only, ”Wait for me, okay?”
When she came out of the FOBCOC, she carried the papers that made Rhys's promotion official. This time Rhys didn't look at her at all. The ground had become much more interesting. So Jamie had slapped the papers against Rhys's chest, against those b.r.e.a.s.t.s she tried so d.a.m.n hard not to think about, and walked on without a word. She'd wanted to go back to their hooch, that tiny movable s.p.a.ce they'd shared for six months which was almost like a home-but she figured Rhys wouldn't follow, so there she'd be, all alone, engulfed in the misery of her lieutenantness.
Better to head for neutral territory: The makes.h.i.+ft, rank-blind joint just inside the Three-Eight FOB's outer perimeter where everyone went for ”light refreshment” whenever they'd been told there'd be no mission * 139 *
the next day. By the time the bartender plunked down the seltzer water Jamie ordered, Staff Sergeant Rhys, the new Three-Eight scout/sniper platoon senior NCO, had taken the seat next to her.
Jamie picked up the seltzer water and drank half of it in one throat-stinging gulp before she glanced over to see how Rhys was doing.
Rhys stared, no longer bothering to camouflage her surprise and anger.