Chapter 6
I requested my father’s service records the next morning.
It was stupid timing.
The base was still locked down.
Federal investigators were everywhere.
Recruits were being questioned.
Whitmore’s father was on every news channel, denying everything through expensive lawyers.
But I could not stop thinking about my father.
Sergeant Aaron Hale.
Dead at thirty-six.
One folded flag.
One closed casket.
One mother who never slept through storms again.
I filled out the request form with shaking hands.
When Commander Rourke found out, he summoned me.
His office smelled like coffee and old leather.
He stood by the window, looking out at the training yard.
“You requested casualty records.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why?”
“My father died overseas, sir. Vehicle explosion.”
Rourke turned slowly.
“When?”
“Ten years ago. Two months before Karsik.”
His face changed.
Just enough.
“Unit?”
“Third Logistics Support, sir.”
He closed his eyes.
My stomach dropped.
“You know something.”
Rourke opened a drawer and pulled out a sealed folder.
He did not hand it to me.
“Recruit Hale, some files are not easy to read.”
“My mother has lived ten years with no answers.”
“That is not what I said.”
I stepped closer.
“With respect, sir, if my father died because of the same people, I need to know.”
Rourke stared at me for a long time.
Then he picked up the phone.
“Send Major Vance.”
She arrived five minutes later.
When she saw the folder, she understood immediately.
“Who?” she asked.
Rourke said, “Sergeant Aaron Hale.”
Her eyes went to me.
For the first time, she looked shaken.
“You’re Aaron’s son.”
My throat tightened.
“You knew him?”
She sat down slowly.
“He transported my team twice before Karsik. Good man. Talked about his wife and kid constantly.”
I could barely breathe.
“What happened to him?”
Rourke put the folder on the desk.
Vance opened it.
Her fingers were careful.
Too careful.
She read the first page.
Then the second.
Her jaw tightened.
“Same armor supplier,” she said.
The room tilted.
Rourke looked away.
I grabbed the edge of the chair.
“Was it faulty?”
Vance did not soften the truth.
“Yes.”
The word hit harder than any punch.
For ten years, I had believed my father died because war was cruel.
Now I knew men had helped cruelty along and got paid for it.
I thought I might throw up.
Vance pushed the folder toward me.
Inside was a photo of my father.
He was smiling beside a transport vehicle, one hand lifted toward the camera.
I touched the picture.
I was ten again.
Standing in a black suit that did not fit while adults told me to be proud.
I had been proud.
I still was.
But now pride had rage beside it.
“Did my mother know?” I asked.
Rourke said quietly, “No.”
“Who signed the report?”
Vance turned a page.
Her face hardened.
“Harland.”
I laughed once.
It came out broken.
“Of course.”
Vance closed the folder.
“Caleb, listen to me. If you testify, this becomes personal. The defense will use that. They will say you are biased.”
“I am biased.”
“No,” she said. “You are informed. There is a difference.”
I looked at her.
“You spent ten years doing this.”
“Yes.”
“Did revenge keep you alive?”
Her eyes held mine.
“At first.”
“And now?”
“Now justice does.”
That night, I called my mother from a monitored line.
I was not allowed to tell her everything.
Not yet.
But she heard something in my voice.
“Caleb, what is wrong?”
I closed my eyes.
“Mom, I found something about Dad’s death.”
Silence.
Then her breath broke.
“What kind of something?”
“The kind that means it may not have been only war.”
She did not speak for several seconds.
When she did, her voice was small.
“I always knew.”
My heart cracked.
“What?”
“A wife knows when the Army is telling half a truth.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because nobody listens to widows when contractors and generals are in the room.”
I pressed my fist to my mouth.
“I’m going to make them listen.”
“No,” she said sharply. “You are going to stay alive first.”
“I will.”
“Promise me.”
I looked across the barracks at Whitmore’s empty bunk.
“I promise.”
May you like
But even as I said it, I knew the truth.
Staying alive and telling the truth were about to become the same fight.
