Casey - July
“Staff Sergeant Huxley,” the young private addressed him and saluted. “First Lieutenant Green will see you now.”
Nodding, Casey stood and followed the private down the hall where he pulled open a door and held it for Casey. Casey stepped into the conference room; the same room where he’d received each of his promotion pins. It hadn’t changed, and he had to force the fond memory aside. Sitting at the table, waiting for him, was First Lieutenant Green and he looked pissed.
Casey strode toward him, snapped to attention and saluted.
“Staff Sergeant Huxley,” Green greeted him.
“Sir,” Casey replied.
“Do you know why you are here, Huxley?”
“No, sir.”
Green tapped his pen against a pad of paper. “Have you ever heard of Project Catherine of Sweden?”
“No, sir.”
“It’s a high honor to be invited. A very prestigious program.”
“Oh?” Casey asked, curious. Maybe this meeting wasn’t about what he thought. “What is it?”
Green dropped his pen and leaned back in his chair. He clasped his hands and rested them on his stomach while he studied Casey.
Casey locked his knees. Green had an uncanny knack for making him feel small and insignificant. Today was no exception.
“You have been invited to a top-secret research facility in northern Missouri,” Green told him.
Casey blinked, doing his best to school his features into neutral. Gates? Fear clawed at his heart and closed his throat.
“It appears,” Green went on. “That a Private Forrester’s”—Lottie?—”test results have singled you out as a compatible donor for her, and the FAR have prepared a special invitation for you to join this program. At the completion of your term as a donor, you will be given a promotion to,” Green glanced down seeming to confirm, “Master Sergeant. Two paygrades above current.” Green’s gaze was piercing.
The ringing in Casey’s ears made it hard for him to concentrate, and his mouth went dry. He had to clear it. “Private Forrester, sir?”
Green leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with interest, and Casey wondered what he’d said to make his superior look at him in such a way. “Charlotte Lindbergh Forrester AKA Lottie Forrester. An asset that was recovered by you last September, correct?”
Casey felt a trickle of sweat drip along his ribs. “Ah, yes. I remember now. What about her, sir?”
“She has deserted her post,” Green replied.
“Deserted, sir?” Casey’s hands clenched at his sides, and he had to force them straight.
“You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”
“No, sir,” Casey responded. Deny everything, repeated on loop in his head.
“I see.”
He swallowed hard. Green didn’t believe him that much was clear. Had Casey answered too quickly? Had he not answered quickly enough?
Green flicked open a file that sat on the table. “It is curious that the asset you recovered should go AWOL only five months later.”
“Really, sir?” Casey asked. Play it cool… “My report did say she was a flight risk.”
“That it did. That it did. And the FAP at the facility had her in solitary confinement and under full guard.”
Oh, Lottie... Casey’s heart ached for her anew.
Green sat back in his chair, steepled his fingers under his slightly receding chin and stared at Casey. It took every ounce of Casey’s willpower not to fidget. Finally, he couldn’t stand it any longer. “Sir?”
“I believe you are lying, Staff Sergeant Huxley.”
“Lying, sir? Why, sir?”
Green looked at several sheets of paper and set each one in a line in front of him. “I’ve been studying this case for a little over a month and have noticed something quite disturbing.” He paused and pinned Casey with his stare. “Did you know, that not only did this asset desert, but she managed to suborn five others?”
Casey waited. Not sure how he should respond.
“They need to be returned.”
“Sir—”
“According to your report,” Green said, cutting him off and pointing to a document. “You recovered and detained Miss Forrester in September. You then followed protocol to get her into custody—I expected nothing less from you. You are one of the best in the field, after all—Yet, it was noted, that at the time, you held a level of reservation about the transfer that you normally do not exhibit when submitting a recovered asset.” Green pointed to another sheet of paper and read from it. “Subject shows physical signs of past pregnancy. When confronted, subject denied the possibility but later confirmed it.” Green looked at him as he set the document down. “Now, it wouldn’t be the first time an asset conceived, delivered and lost the infant while not under government control. But it is rare.”
Fuck… “I don’t understand,” Casey replied, even though he did, he really did.
He was so screwed.
“At first I thought the worst. You wouldn’t have been the first Staff Sergeant to abuse his power and father a baby on an asset you captured in the field. But it was made clear in the report that the asset in question had not had physical relations for an extended amount of time. And then I got this.” Green waved his hand toward a third document.
When Green didn’t elaborate, Casey asked, “May I?”
Green nodded.
Reaching forward, Casey picked it up and began to read. He felt the blood drain from his face. This was not good. Not good at all.
Fort Sutton detained and housed an asset matching that description two years ago. She delivered a son and spent the allotted eight weeks at the base. I raised several objections at the behavior I perceived as contrary to our mission here at Fort Sutton and indicated my concerns to my superior, Staff Sergeant Huxley. He assured me there was nothing to worry about, that he had everything under control, and when the asset was escorted back to St. Louis, I let the subject drop.
“It is clear from this report by Corporal Joplin that the asset in question conceived outside of your control and that you had—by all appearances—followed procedure. But then something went wrong. Do you know what that is Huxley? What went wrong?”
Casey felt frozen. His gaze glued to the report in his hands, willing himself not to shake, and knowing he failed miserably.
“Why did you hide her?”
His mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. Anything he said would incriminate him further.
“What is more perplexing to me is why you finally turned her in,” Green continued, drawing Casey’s attention from Lincoln’s report in his hands. He lifted his gaze and caught Green staring at him.
“Why go to all that trouble, Huxley? Clearly, you had a good thing going for you. At first, I thought maybe you did it because you were tired of fucking her,” When Casey flinched, Green paused and added as an aside, “It happens—but then I pulled records on the other assets that deserted the Catherine of Sweden program when she did. Three of the five appeared to go on their own volition, but one of the unaccounted for is registered as her biological mother. And another has ties to one of your Privates—a Tristan Bell—from before he was ARA.” Green glared at him. “Now it looks suspiciously like the reason Forrester submitted to being detained was to remove her mother and this other woman from the facility. Possibly at your orders.”
Green shook his head; disappointment etched in his face. “Your involvement cannot be overlooked.”
Casey cleared his incredibly dry throat. “My involvement, sir?”
“I mean,” Green stressed. “If this had come to light and she was still in the facility, you would have been demoted and transferred out of ARA for willfully disobeying orders. But you would have been given some level of control over where you went. CPS maybe, or IPD.”
“And now?” Casey asked. He’d always known hiding Lottie would end his career. It had only been a matter of when.
“Now, Bell is facing a formal inquiry to determine his involvement in Forrester’s disappearance. You are being stripped of your rank, given a Bad Conduct Discharge, and incarcerated indefinitely. And since we believe you know exactly where these missing assets are located, you will to take us to them.”
“If I refuse?” There was no way Casey would lead the army to the women who relied on him for protection.
“You’re already slated for Fort Twenty-four, Huxley. Don’t make this any worse.”
Doesn’t matter, he thought. I won’t tell you where they are.
When the silence dragged on for more than five minutes, Green sighed. “I had such high hopes for you, Huxley, high, high hopes, and you threw them all away.” Green shook his head, pushed away from the conference table and stood. He walked to the door and pulled it open. “Brown? Take Huxley into custody,” he barked and opened the door wider.
This was it.
He was going to prison.
Casey’s stomach turned, nausea burning in his gut and turned to face his fate as two CPS marched in and looked down their noses at him.
Their gazes sweeping him from head to toe, and the taller of the two men ordered him to turn around. “You are under arrest for…” he hedged.
“Treason,” Green replied, though Casey knew he hadn’t been obligated to answer the lower ranking man’s question.
The CPS soldiers’ expressions showed contempt when they huffed in acknowledgment of Green’s statement. “Turn around,” the man repeated more forcefully.
Casey nodded curtly and complied. If it meant Lottie and Greysen were safe, then he would do it. Gladly.
The cold metal closed around his wrist and then the other, securing his arms behind him. He tugged at his bindings. His heart beat hard at the immobility. How many times had Lottie been cuffed? More than twice on his watch alone. The admission brought a new sense of shame. Why she loved him after how he treated her? He didn’t know.
“Changed your mind?”
Shaking his head, he kept it high and made sure to meet Green’s gaze without flinching.
Green clucked in disappointment, reached out and yanked Casey’s pins of service from his breast. “Take him away.”
Casey swallowed past the lump in his throat. He’d worked hard for those recognitions, and as he was dragged backward, he knew he would never forget the sight of his life work sitting in Green’s single brown hand. Everything he’d worked for, reduced to nothing more than metal wrapped in colored thread with a piece of fabric from his coat dangling from one of the edges.
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