The older man extended his hand.
“Samuel Reed. Retired command sergeant major.”
I shook it.
The name stirred something distant in my memory.
Not a face.
A story.
An old conversation.
Then it clicked.
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“Reed,” I said. “Fort Benning?”
“Among other places.”
I stared at him.
“You worked with Colonel Mercer.”
“For nine years.”
That explained it.
Colonel Andrew Mercer had been one of my first battalion commanders.
Years later, when I had nearly talked myself out of applying for a difficult assignment because I believed I wasn’t ready, Mercer had been the one who told me readiness was often something people discovered after they stepped through the door.
Samuel looked toward the mat.
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Then at Ethan.
“I’m guessing nobody told you.”
Ethan folded his arms.
“Told me what?”
I knew what was coming.
“Sergeant Major—”
Samuel held up one hand.
“I’m not giving away state secrets.”
A few people laughed nervously.
Then Samuel looked at Ethan.
“She taught combatives.”
Ethan blinked.
Carlos Mendes slowly turned toward me.
“For how long?” he asked.
“Not that long.”
Samuel chuckled.
“Long enough.”
I felt heat creep into my face.
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The entire situation had become exactly what I had hoped it wouldn’t become.
