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Carter shrugged. “I’m shit out of luck. I’m going to get my ass locked up. Everything is going to be taken away. What the fuck do I care about stupid shit like rank and what’s the word...decorum, there we go.”

“You’ve certainly mastered feeling sorry for yourself quickly,” Marshall noted.

“First off, go fuck yourself,” Carter told him. “Secondly, I think I deserve a nice pity party. I knowyoudon’t think so, along with a lot of other people but I go back to my first point, and I add ‘and everyone else’ as well.”

“Everyone?” Marshall asked, cocking his head.

No, not everyone, but Carter wasn’t going to give him that. Marco wasnotMarshall’s concern, or at least not as far as Carter was concerned.

And yet.

“How is he?” Carter asked, deflating as he caved in.

“I think ‘not happy’ is probably the best way to describe him,” Marshall told him, unlocking the door. “I’ll give you more of an update later. For now, General Winter wants to see you.”

“Fucking finally,” Carter muttered, pushing himself off the bed.

They’d left him cooling his heels for so long he’d begun to wonder if they were going to actually put him through a hearing or just let him rot in a cell. He stepped out into the hall, waiting for Marshall to close the cell door and lead him into another hall that wasn’t any less dismal.

“Is this the actual hearing?” Carter asked.

“Don’t ask me,” Marshall told him, escorting him to another door and swiping a card over it. “But if you ask me, it’s the preliminary. Technically, you’ve been under General Winter’s command this entire time, so he’s going to be the one who deals with you first.”

He was led to an elevator, sidling in so Marshall could push a button. As the doors slid closed, Carter glanced at Marshall’s reflection in the metal, trying to read his expression. There was nothing there, of course, just the stony expression of a man going about his business.

“Don’t give away a whole lot, do you?” Carter asked.

Marshall grunted as the doors slid open. “I give away what I need to when I need to.”

Carter rolled his eyes but said nothing as Marshall led him down a far better-lit hall. They were still in the MP building, but the floor they were on was less sterile, though he wouldn’t call it ornate. The lighting wasn’t as gloomy and industrial, and there was a stark blue carpet runner over the plain, white floor.

They stopped at a door Carter assumed led to an office. Marshall reached out, knocked on it, and waited until a deep voice told him to enter.

Carter made to step forward, but Marshall stopped him. Again, he found he couldn’t read the man’s expression, though he could see a great deal of thought behind his eyes.

“I don’t have time to go into everything right now,” Marshall told him quickly but quietly. “But there’s been a lot going on. General Winter is a good man, a fair man. Remember that before you get an attitude because youthinkeverything is lost.”

Before Carter could even ponder what that meant, he was pushed into the office. It was sparse and without any decoration or personality. There was a desk, two chairs, a window with closed blinds, and a rug in front of the desk.

And behind the desk sat a man. Carter imagined being a general, he was probably in his late forties or maybe early fifties. On the street, Carter would have pegged him as younger. There were lines around his eyes and a few around his mouth, but it was otherwise unblemished. His hair had about as much pepper as salt, and his eyes were bright blue and incredibly alert. When they snapped to Carter’s face, the smart comment he had ready about the spartan office died in his throat. Instead, he felt himself straighten, saluting the older man without hesitation.

“Corporal Grant,” General Winter said. “At ease. Have a seat. You and I have a great deal to talk about.”

“You’re doing the preliminary hearing here?” Carter asked, his surprise making him blurt it out.

“Unless you’d prefer to be dragged across the Fort like a criminal, in sight of everyone just so we can talk in my office,” General Winter offered calmly.

Carter grimaced. “No offense, sir, but I pretty much considered that a fact until now.”

“Is it?”

“I...well, I thought so.”

“Very few people are aware of what happened. When it comes to certain cases, I prefer to deal with them privately,especially when they involve touchy situations or...touchy individuals.”

“Oh, no one knows?”

“Not unless I have notorious gossips among my trusted staff. Now, here or my office?”