Read Online The Severance by Elliott Sawyer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elliott Sawyer
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redeployment flight. You got it?”
“I think I can handle it,” Jake replied.
“Please, Jake, make sure the boys look their best. Clean uniforms, good boots, fresh haircuts, and shaves. The works,” Wes said.
“No problem, Wes. They’ll be in their Sunday Finest,” Jake replied, as he finally stood up and stretched.
“You ever going to crop that mop?” Wesley asked, motioning toward Jake’s hair.
While his fellow officers kept their hair neatly cropped, Jake allowed his, dark and brown, to grow a bit longer. Shaggy by Army standards.
“I’ll get a cut when I need one.”
Wesley rolled his eyes.
“The colonel also wanted me to tell you to make sure Eastman is kept under control. He doesn’t want a repeat of what happened at his last awards ceremony,” Wes said, looking over at the still-sleeping soldier.
“Wes, he wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Jake replied.
“Yeah, well, there’s one lieutenant with sparkling new dentures that would disagree with you.”
“He should have brushed and flossed more,” Jake said.
“Looks like you might break even before they put you out, Jake,” Wes said.
“What are you talking about? I always land on top of the stack,” Jake shot back.
“If you say so,” Wes said, shrugging his shoulders.
Medal or no medal, Jake Roberts had made sure he was coming out of the army better off than when he went in.
Wes was walking out of the tent, when he suddenly stopped and turned around. “Oh, yeah, I forgot. There is going to be a CNN crew doing a story on the whole thing. They might want to interview you. Just so you know and you’re ready.”
Jake had friends, parents, and a wife. All of them would be impressed and proud to see him on TV, doing something good for a change.
“I know I can handle that,” Jake said, with a slight smirk of satisfaction.
“Good, let me know if you need anything from Battalion before you leave,” Wes said, exiting before Jake could respond.
Wesley Parker was jealous of his friend, Jake, even though Wes had made all the right choices in life and Jake hadn’t. Wes was a prime example of everything an army officer should be and Jake was the antithesis. Wes had graduated in the top of his class at West Point, and he and Jake had been platoon leaders together in Iraq. Jake had been undeniably a more popular and successful leader. This was largely due to dumb luck, but the higher-ups didn’t see luck, only results. When it was time to select someone to become the personnel officer, a mundane and unglamorous position, it was Wes who was chosen. After Jake got himself in trouble and blacklisted, instead of tasting failure, he was given another platoon, a second chance.
Wes had languished behind a desk while Jake had gone out and fought the good fight again. Now Jake was being decorated. Physically, the two were almost the same, except that Jake could always be counted on to outdo Wes, if only by one push-up or a few seconds on a run. Being good at everything just came naturally to Jake, or so it seemed.
Wesley Parker didn’t hate Jake Roberts, but he found it hard to be happy for him.
Jake stumbled around his cot in an effort to collect all of the necessary items for a shower. He adjusted his pants; a year in Afghanistan had caused his weight to drop from 165 to 150 pounds.
“Hey, Sir, what’s all this talk about going to Bagram today? What’s going on?”
Jake was startled. Despite all the noise he and Wesley had made, no one in the tent had appeared to be awake.
There was Big Joe, sitting up and finally taking off the boot he’d left on his foot a few hours earlier. The big man had been clever enough to pretend to be asleep while Jake and Wes had been talking about him.
“Well, Joe, after I shower, I’m going to call a platoon meeting and tell everyone. The long and the short of it, though, is that we are all getting medals for last night,” Jake said softly, now aware of the other sleeping soldiers.
“Medals? What for?”
“I think I can handle it,” Jake replied.
“Please, Jake, make sure the boys look their best. Clean uniforms, good boots, fresh haircuts, and shaves. The works,” Wes said.
“No problem, Wes. They’ll be in their Sunday Finest,” Jake replied, as he finally stood up and stretched.
“You ever going to crop that mop?” Wesley asked, motioning toward Jake’s hair.
While his fellow officers kept their hair neatly cropped, Jake allowed his, dark and brown, to grow a bit longer. Shaggy by Army standards.
“I’ll get a cut when I need one.”
Wesley rolled his eyes.
“The colonel also wanted me to tell you to make sure Eastman is kept under control. He doesn’t want a repeat of what happened at his last awards ceremony,” Wes said, looking over at the still-sleeping soldier.
“Wes, he wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Jake replied.
“Yeah, well, there’s one lieutenant with sparkling new dentures that would disagree with you.”
“He should have brushed and flossed more,” Jake said.
“Looks like you might break even before they put you out, Jake,” Wes said.
“What are you talking about? I always land on top of the stack,” Jake shot back.
“If you say so,” Wes said, shrugging his shoulders.
Medal or no medal, Jake Roberts had made sure he was coming out of the army better off than when he went in.
Wes was walking out of the tent, when he suddenly stopped and turned around. “Oh, yeah, I forgot. There is going to be a CNN crew doing a story on the whole thing. They might want to interview you. Just so you know and you’re ready.”
Jake had friends, parents, and a wife. All of them would be impressed and proud to see him on TV, doing something good for a change.
“I know I can handle that,” Jake said, with a slight smirk of satisfaction.
“Good, let me know if you need anything from Battalion before you leave,” Wes said, exiting before Jake could respond.
Wesley Parker was jealous of his friend, Jake, even though Wes had made all the right choices in life and Jake hadn’t. Wes was a prime example of everything an army officer should be and Jake was the antithesis. Wes had graduated in the top of his class at West Point, and he and Jake had been platoon leaders together in Iraq. Jake had been undeniably a more popular and successful leader. This was largely due to dumb luck, but the higher-ups didn’t see luck, only results. When it was time to select someone to become the personnel officer, a mundane and unglamorous position, it was Wes who was chosen. After Jake got himself in trouble and blacklisted, instead of tasting failure, he was given another platoon, a second chance.
Wes had languished behind a desk while Jake had gone out and fought the good fight again. Now Jake was being decorated. Physically, the two were almost the same, except that Jake could always be counted on to outdo Wes, if only by one push-up or a few seconds on a run. Being good at everything just came naturally to Jake, or so it seemed.
Wesley Parker didn’t hate Jake Roberts, but he found it hard to be happy for him.
Jake stumbled around his cot in an effort to collect all of the necessary items for a shower. He adjusted his pants; a year in Afghanistan had caused his weight to drop from 165 to 150 pounds.
“Hey, Sir, what’s all this talk about going to Bagram today? What’s going on?”
Jake was startled. Despite all the noise he and Wesley had made, no one in the tent had appeared to be awake.
There was Big Joe, sitting up and finally taking off the boot he’d left on his foot a few hours earlier. The big man had been clever enough to pretend to be asleep while Jake and Wes had been talking about him.
“Well, Joe, after I shower, I’m going to call a platoon meeting and tell everyone. The long and the short of it, though, is that we are all getting medals for last night,” Jake said softly, now aware of the other sleeping soldiers.
“Medals? What for?”
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