The Last Hour (Thompson Sisters) Sheehan-Miles, Charles (good beach reads .txt) 📖

Ray,” I said. “Lori ... thanks for your concern, but I can’t talk right now.”

She nodded. “It’s okay ... just ... if you need anything—anything at all. Call me.”

I swallowed, trying to hold back tears, and an awful sound escaped my throat. I couldn’t speak, so I nodded and walked for the front doors, reaching for my phone.

It rang and rang, and then went to voicemail. I sent him a text: CALL ME!!!!

There was no response.

Free to go (Ray)

“Come on, Willis. You can do it,” I said.

“You’re a prick, Sherman.”

“Yeah. But I know you can do this.”

Sergeant Manny Willis glared at his wheelchair like it was his worst enemy. Finally he reached over, planting both hands on the arms, and lifted himself bodily with his arms off of the bed and over to the wheelchair.

“Mother fucker,” he muttered as he sank into the chair. Sweat beaded up on his forehead. Willis didn’t have any legs, so it was understandable that it was difficult to move on his own. He’d been here for six weeks and was finally beginning to rebuild his upper body strength. And even though my job was to run messages and sweep the ward, I was getting to know the guys—and two gals—who were on the amputee unit.

“You’re getting stronger,” I said.

“But not any nicer,” he replied.

“Can’t ask for miracles,” I said, grinning.

He leaned forward and poked me in the chest. “I’m only gonna say this once, so you better soak it up while I’m feeling nice. Thanks.”

I nodded. I hadn’t done anything but taunt him, but sometimes that’s the best thing you can do for an infantryman.

That was when the door to the ward opened, and Major Smalls and Agent Dickhead walked in.

I sighed and stood up. Something about Smalls’ expression—grim, tightly controlled—worried me. I glanced up to the clock on the wall. It was 11:15 a.m.

They came face to face with me. Agent Coombs didn’t meet my eyes. That was a bad sign.

“Sergeant, we need to speak somewhere private. Is there an office we can use?”

I swallowed then said, “Yeah.” Absentmindedly, I turned back to Willis. “Catch you later, man.”

He nodded, then out of instinct said, “Good luck.”

I had the feeling I was going to need it. I led Major Smalls and Agent Coombs down the hall to the small office the orderlies used. It was rarely occupied. None of us took seats.

“What can I do for you, Major?”

“We’ll get the formal part over with first, Sergeant. As you know, I was appointed by the Commanding General of the Military District of Washington to conduct a RCM 303 inquiry.”

“Excuse me ... a what?”

“A preliminary investigation. I’ve completed that investigation and turned in my report last week.”

“I see.”

“The Commanding General has referred charges against you and five other soldiers in this case.”

My heart started pounding, and my throat was dry. “Against me?”

“That’s right. Your commanding officer has been notified, and at this time we are taking you before the officer appointed as the Article 32 Investigating Officer.”

“I don’t know what all that means.”

Coombs broke in. “It means you’re under arrest.”

Well, that was clear enough. “Can I call my girlfriend?”

“Not right now. Please come with us, and we’ll get this over with.”

I nodded.

I didn’t have far to go at all. We walked out of the main hospital building and down the block. Three buildings down we entered an unmarked, plain looking brick building. Inside, a busy office, except all the desks were staffed by service-members, not all of them Army. Walter Reed was a joint command, so the paper pushers tended to come in all stripes. I followed Smalls past the desks. She stopped and knocked on a door.

“Come,” a commanding voice called from within.

She opened the door and waved me in. Now wasn’t the time to be a smartass, so I walked in, came to a stop in front of the desk as I’d been trained at Fort Benning, and saluted, my eyes a foot above the head of the man sitting there. I barked out, “Sergeant Ray Sherman reporting as ordered, sir.”

“At ease,” the man said.

I relaxed a little, and let my eyes fall to the youngish looking Lieutenant Colonel behind the desk. He wore the combat patch of the Third Infantry division on his right shoulder. His name-tag read Schwartz.

“I’m Lieutenant Colonel Aaron Schwartz. I’ve been appointed by the General Court-Martial Convening Authority as investigating officer for an Article 32 investigation. You’re one of the accused.”

I cleared my throat, but didn’t say anything. I didn’t really have a response.

“I’m going to dispense with reading any official charges at this time, other than to advise you of your rights. In accordance with the Uniform Code of Military Justice, you cannot be compelled to make any self-incriminating statements. You’re entitled to a military attorney at no cost to you, or if you prefer, a civilian attorney at no expense to the government. This investigation will be conducted over the next several weeks, and you’ll have the right to be present, or to have your counsel present, at all proceedings. Is all this clear?”

I couldn’t breathe. Clear? It was clear I was completely fucked.

I nodded and coughed out, “Yes, sir.”

“Any questions?”

“Where do I find a military lawyer, sir?”

“You’ll be contacted by a member of the Staff Judge Advocate’s office.”

“I see. Am I going to jail?”

He sighed and stared at me. “The Commanding General left that to my discretion. Major Smalls has indicated that you aren’t a flight risk, and that you should be left at your current duties and living arrangements as long as possible. Is that correct, Major?”

She nodded. “Yes. I don’t believe you have to worry about Sergeant Sherman running off.”

I couldn’t stop myself from looking over at her. I was stunned that she’d made that recommendation.

“Well, Sergeant? Can we depend on you to show up when and where you are told? Or do we need to place you under confinement?”

“I’ll be wherever you order, sir.”

“I want to be clear about one