Duty(44)

Five grand? I mean, it’s better than nothing, but still. “What's behind door number two?”

“Longer terms, but bigger bonuses. Basically, a three-year term gets you an eight-grand bonus, and with a five-year hitch, they get really generous—fifteen grand, and you have your choice of duty assignments, based on what the Army has available at the time. Pretty sweet deal, but seeing your record, I can see why. Hell, Morgan, if they gave me that, I'd be sitting on some General's staff and making coffee for the rest of my career.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Beanie, I know you well enough to know that there's no way that you'd be happy on a General's staff. That takes someone who knows how to stay buttoned up, stay in the background, and be Johnny on the spot.”

“So what's looking good to you right now?” Beanie asks, and I know he's shifting into pitch mode. “You know what the Army would like. You sign the five-year, and that gets you halfway to a twenty-year retirement. Halfway to retirement at thirty years old. That's pretty sweet.”

“I bet you say that to everyone in my position,” I tell him, smirking and leaning back. “Does it ever work?”

“Sometimes,” Beanie acknowledges. “Honestly, though, you're one of the ones that I don't think it would. You'll make your decision for other reasons. Your son, for example. I'm not trying to go there hard, but you're a single mother. The Army does a pretty decent job of helping out with that. Schools are pretty good, you can't knock the benefits, and the scholarships available for Lance would be good too. If you want, I'll get you a little booklet on it, and you can read it over.”

“What, no high pressure to sign now?” I tease, and Beanie laughs.

“Nah. You've got a while left still. Six months from now, I might be pushing more, but hey, the earlier you sign, the earlier we can throw you a keg party,” Beanie says.

“I thought we're in the new Army, where we don't fuel everything by beer?” I ask, mock shocked.

“We'll party responsibly. Sergeant Washington, in Alpha Company, can't drink alcohol at all. He can be the designated driver. Stuff like that,” Beanie says, gathering his papers. “Here, keep these. I'll get you that packet I was talking about for when you and the CO are done. I have the websites saved. You leaning one way or another?”

I shake my head, gathering up the papers. “Not yet. I've got to think hard about this, Beanie. You know that. But thanks for the information.”

“No worries,” he says, standing up. “If you need any more help, gimme a ring. I know I'm the re-enlistment NCO, but I'm not totally biased.”

I leave Beanie's office and knock on the CO's door, where he has me wait a moment while he finishes up a phone call and waves me in. “Have a seat, Morgan.”

“Sure, sir. Beanie said that you wanted to talk with me about something?”

Captain Lemmon nods, then gets up and closes his office door. “Sorry. This is highly unofficial. I just wanted to give you a chance to explain something that Top saw this weekend. He brought it to me, and I felt like I should be the one to ask about it.”

“What's that, sir?” I ask, confused. “You sound pretty grim about it.”

“Sorry, I just wanted to talk with you before someone else gets involved,” Captain Lemmon says. “Basically, Top was doing a drive through of the housing area Saturday night with the guys on patrol. He went by your place, and he saw an officer's car parked out at the curb. He brought it to me after he ran the post tag, mainly because I was a little surprised at who it was.”

“Lieutenant Simpson?” I ask, trying to control the stab of fear that goes through me. “Oh yeah, he mentioned that you two were in the same company at West Point.”

“Yes, he was two years behind me. Now, I'm not saying you did anything wrong, Morgan, but what was he doing at your house that late on a Saturday night?”

At least I have a good reason for it, and I lean back, smiling. “Sir, I pulled weekend duty Saturday, remember? Aaron signed up through his battalion for their Big Brothers & Sisters program, and he agreed to watch Lance on Saturday. The fight in the barracks delayed my getting home. Aaron stayed late to make sure that Lance was put to bed properly, and then he let me vent about my frustrations for the day, that's it. Nothing inappropriate happened.”

Captain Lemmon hums, then nods. “Okay. I'll talk to him face to face on it, just to confirm. I'm a little pissed that someone at the battalion level, his or ours, didn't notify me that you had signed up for it, but that's not on you. Can I give you a bit of warning though, Sergeant Morgan?”

“Go ahead, sir.”

Captain Lemmon sips his coffee and sets the cup down, taking a deep breath. “I try to treat the work of every soldier professionally, evaluating you on the merits of your work alone. But I'm not blind. You're an attractive single woman, Lindsey. And Lieutenant Simpson is a single guy. I'm not saying that you two were fraternizing on Saturday, and I'll make sure that Top knows what happened so that any rumors can be squashed, but I can't promise that people won't talk. I know you need help with Lance, and I'll be honest, Aaron's one of those guys that I would put first in line for being a good role model. Just be aware that you might need to be loud and proud about the setup, and still . . . just be careful, got it?”