Page 117 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

As much as he’d known being locked up would be a miserable experience, the reality was far different.

Time had quickly lost all meaning, even as he knew it was passing, albeit at a glacial pace.

The only marks separating one time period from another were the meals and how the light faded in the row of jail cells, only to be lit by the indoor lights.

The thought might have just pissed him off once upon a time, but his mind flashed, as it so often did, to Marco. Thinking of the man brought warmth and a great weight upon his chest.

He should have known better.

Misery was something he’d always denied himself. Self-pity was for others, and it never served him to wallow when he could be better served by doing something about his life, even if that meant hitting something.

Ironic that when he’d finally found something worth being truly happy about, worth keeping, was when he allowed himself to wallow.

It felt like that’s all he did when he wasn’t sleeping or eating the food that tasted like sawdust. Like the tide, the misery swept over him and refused to let him go, dragging him out to sea.

And he was content to let it.

“Corporal Grant,” a gruff voice demanded, ripping Carter out of his thoughts.

He pushed himself upright and sat on the edge of the bed. Carter couldn’t tell if he was surprised by his new visitor or not.

“Sloane,” he said.

“Really?” Marshall asked, raising a brow. “That’s what you’re going with?”

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 know you don’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 was not Marshall’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 you think everything 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?”

Carter sat down swiftly. “Here is fine...sir.”

“I thought as much.”

Silence fell between them, and Carter found himself watching the older man carefully. He also felt that while they were both evaluating one another, General Winter was seeing far more of him.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you,” General Winter said, voice as steady as it had been when Carter walked in, “how serious the charges being leveled against you are. Your record alone is enough to raise an eyebrow, but I requested you come here all the same. And?—”

“You asked?” Carter blurted out, shocked.

General Winter raised a brow. “Yes. And having said that, you can imagine how unhappy I was to hear about your altercation with Sergeant Reynolds.”

Carter scowled. “Yes, I imagine you would be. Though I don’t?—”

General Winter continued. “Particularly when, at face value, it appeared completely unprovoked. Made even worse by your rather lackluster and flimsy defense that threatened to snap at the slightest push.”

Carter waited in silence until he realized he was supposed to speak. “I stand by my statement. I shouldn’t have said it, but I said it, so there it is...sir.”

General Winter tilted his head. “Commendable. But it hardly changes much. Between your history and Sergeant Reynolds’ testimony, and with no real defense, you hardly have a leg to stand on.”

“I know,” Carter said, looking down at his lap. “But I’m not naming names. Other than Reynolds’, I’ll name that one happily.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you refuse to give a name? If what you said is true, then a witness would help you greatly.”

Carter looked up. “It is true.”

The General motioned vaguely. “And yet?—”

“Because I’m not putting...them in a position they don’t want to be in. Bad enough that Reynolds...well, they were put through enough shit. I wasn’t going to be the one to drag them through it against their will,” Carter said, leveling his gaze with the older man.

“Noble, but it doesn’t help you or your future, now does it?” General Winter asked.

“Nope,” Carter said, internally apologizing to Marco again.

The seconds ticked by as General Winter watched him. After what felt like an eternity, Winter reached for a file. It was thin, with only a few pieces of paper in it. He set it on the desk between them, his hand resting comfortably on it.

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing for you that Private King came forward of her own accord and gave her account,” General Winter said.

Carter froze. “What?”

The general’s brow quirked slightly. “Oh yes. Came to these offices the other day and spoke to Staff Sergeant Marshall herself. Gave him the entire account and put it down in writing.”

Carter watched as the general tapped the folder. “That?”

“The whole thing,” he said. “Weeks of harassment, followed by the fateful day where Sergeant Reynolds made his move. And then your involvement and how you spared her from her fate.”

Carter made a choking noise. “W-why?”

General Winter turned his hands upward, almost in a shrug.

“A strange thing, isn’t it? I spoke to her privately, listened to her story, and put a few pieces together.

The most curious part was that she mentioned you by name and absolutely insisted that you not be punished for doing the right thing. ”

Carter looked from the folder to General Winter. “She...she did?”

The corner of General Winter’s mouth turned upward. “Yes, it seems I do have gossips in my circle of trust. I would be most curious how she found out about your arrest.”

“But she could be lying, just like I could be,” Carter protested, not caring he could be screwing himself over as the idea popped into his head. “Reynolds isn’t exactly liked.”