Duty(51)

Nadar's injury puts a damper on the good mood everyone has going into the afternoon's training, which has four teams going through in staggered starts while the other three teams act as range safeties. With me stepping out of Alpha Team of 1st Squad and Bravo Team, 3rd Squad losing their leader, we adjust, condensing down to seven teams.

“Okay everyone, remember, this is what happens in real life too,” I remind everyone as the team leaders work their people into new positions. “Stay sharp, and go by the numbers. There's no pausing this time—you go from station to station as your range safeties say so. Squad leaders, keep your teams safe, and we'll have a good afternoon.”

With the quicker pace and redistributed teams, things are rough the first run through, with the platoon suffering six more 'casualties' from missing angles or slow reaction times that miss the targets set for the exercise. I check my watch. It's only three o'clock, and I decide to run it again. We'll go past five o'clock, but that has to happen sometimes. “All right, one more time. Keep your heads on a swivel and do your jobs. We're not accepting fifteen percent dead!”

Thankfully, the second run through goes much smoother, and only three of the teams suffer 'casualties,' which isn't too bad. We run an evac drill for each team and start to head back to the company area. While I'm riding, I feel my phone buzz, and I pull it out, seeing that it's a text message from Lindsey. Whatever it is, it can wait a little bit, and I shift it aside to call Pillman. “What's the deal, Sarge?”

“We're waiting on a second eval of the X-rays, sir, but the tech thinks that Nadal might have just sprained the hell out of it. He'll be on profile a while either way, but I think he's looking forward to goldbricking it for a while.”

I laugh, relieved. “Okay, that's not too bad. Let me fill in the CO. We're headed back now.”

I take a moment to read Lindsey's text since we've got a few minutes left before reaching the motor pool, and as I read the words, I can't help it. I'm excited. I can barely contain my desire to call her back, but I feel like I need to be sitting down for this, and I don't want to have to rush things.

Walking from the motor pool back to the company area where my car is parked, I can't wait any longer, and I dial up Lindsey. “Hello?”

“Lindsey. I got your text. What's up?”

There's a pause, and I hear her tell Lance that she needs to step outside to talk on the phone about adult things, and the creak of her screen door opening and closing. “Hey, sorry about the delay. He's happily eating his dinner. So how was your day?”

“I've had better,” I admit. “One of my troopers had to go to the hospital. But what's up with your message?”

“Well . . . after seeing what Lance made for you in daycare, I made a decision. I think we should tell Lance who his father is. The four-day training holiday is coming up the weekend after next.”

I stop, stunned. “You know I’m all for it. But are you sure?”

“I’m positive. You should see the card he had his teachers help him write for you. It says, Big Brother Aaron, Thank you for the sleepover. I love you. Your Little Brother, Lance. The only thing I can think of that would make it better is if it said Daddy on it.”

I’m stunned, unable to form any words. I take a few seconds, then compose myself with a deep breath, ready to say the words I never did before, but I won’t hold back any longer. “I love you, Lindsey. I've loved you for years, and I don't want to lie about that anymore. I can’t wait to be a father to Lance.”

There's a moment of silence, and I pause, standing outside the company building when Lindsey speaks again. “I love you too, Aaron.”

I can't help the smile that's on my face. Finally, it's out. “Okay. Listen, I've got some company stuff to take care of, then we can talk maybe Thursday afternoon, make some plans?”

“That sounds good. Talk to you later, Aaron. I . . . I love you.”

“I love you too, Lindsey. Good bye.” I put my phone away, and I’m practically whistling when I head into the company offices, stopping when Captain Bradley calls my name.

“Lieutenant Simpson!”

There's nobody else in the office, but the CO sounds pissed, and some of my good mood evaporates as I head to his office. “Sir?”

Bradley's got his glare going, he and points at the chair across the desk from him. “Sit down, Simpson.”

He never calls me by just my last name anymore unless he's pissed about something. Fuck it, time to man up. “Sir?”

“You should be more careful about your phone conversations, Lieutenant. I happened to have my window open, and I overheard you,” Captain Bradley says, fuming. “Now, thank God that nobody else in the goddamn company knows who Lindsey is, but I happen to because I processed the paperwork on your enrollment for this Big Brothers program. For f*ck's sake, Simpson, what the hell are you thinking?”

“Sir . . .” I start, then shut up. Nothing to say, really. “What happens now, sir?”

“What happens is, I'd like to bust your ass,” Captain Bradley says, slamming his fist down on his desk. “I'd like to have you standing tall before the man. However, I can't. I've already got our asses in a sling with the Hardy situation, and now you've got another soldier in the goddamn hospital because you're too busy f*cking some admin clerk in the MPs instead of being a good platoon leader!”