Chapter 11 - The Return to the Front
The predawn mist was still clinging to the surface of the lake when the matte-green military transport rumbled quietly down my driveway at exactly 6:00 AM on Monday.
I stepped out of the front door wearing my full Class-A Army uniform, the crisp collar adorned with the silver oak leaves of a Lieutenant Colonel. My service cap sat squarely on my head, and my duffel bag was packed with the precise, tactical efficiency of a soldier heading back into the field.
I locked the front door behind me—double-checking the deadbolt—and walked down to the waiting vehicle.
Captain Sarah Miller was standing by the passenger door, snapping a sharp salute as I approached.
“All gear loaded, Colonel. Flight manifest is locked, and transport to the airfield is standing by,” Sarah reported crisply.
“Thank you, Captain,” I replied, returning the salute before climbing into the back of the vehicle.
As we rolled away from the curb, I looked back one last time at the lake house. The morning sun was just beginning to crest the horizon, casting a brilliant golden glow across the water and the sturdy timber roof. It was safe, it was clean, and it was entirely mine.
Forty-eight hours later, I touched down at an overseas forward operating base. The humid air, the hum of tactical generators, and the endless sea of camouflaged uniforms instantly snapped me back into operational mode.
My executive officer, Lieutenant Colonel Marcus Vance, met me at the base command tent with a clipboard full of situation reports.
“Welcome back, Colonel. How was leave?” Marcus asked with a knowing, subtle smirk.
May you like
“Peaceful once the intruders were cleared out, Marcus,” I replied smoothly, unbuttoning my service jacket and stepping up to the main tactical map display. “Give me the rundown on sector four.”
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