“YOU LEFT MY BROTHER ON THE BATTLEFIELD… AND YOU’RE EATING LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED?”
The entire army canteen went silent.
Sergeant Ethan Cole stood beside a fallen tray, his chest rising heavily with anger.
Across from him, Captain Ryan Mercer slowly wiped water from his face.
A dozen soldiers stared at them.
No one moved.
No one dared to speak.
Ryan looked down at the food scattered across the floor.
Then he looked back at Ethan.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“My brother called for backup three times.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened.
“You weren’t there.”
“No,” Ethan replied. “But you were.”
Ryan grabbed Ethan by the collar and shoved him against the edge of a table.
“You don’t know what happened that night!”
Ethan pushed him away.
“Then tell me!”
The canteen doors opened.
Colonel Marcus Hale entered, followed by two officers.
Everyone immediately stood straight.
The colonel looked at the broken tray, the spilled water, and Ryan’s clenched fists.
“What is going on here?”
Ryan spoke first.
“Sergeant Cole attacked me without provocation.”
Ethan laughed bitterly.
“Tell him why.”
Colonel Hale turned toward Ethan.
“Explain yourself.”
Ethan reached into his uniform pocket and pulled out a folded photograph.
It showed three soldiers standing beside an armored vehicle.
Ethan pointed at the youngest man in the picture.
“That’s my brother, Noah.”
Then he pointed at Ryan.
“And that’s the last man who saw him alive.”
Ryan’s expression changed.
Only for a second.
But Ethan noticed.
“You told everyone Noah died during enemy fire,” Ethan said. “So why did you refuse to sign the death confirmation?”
The colonel’s eyes moved toward Ryan.
Ryan said nothing.
Ethan placed the photograph on the table.
“Answer me.”
Ryan stared at the picture.
Then, in a low voice, he said:
“Because Noah wasn’t dead when we left.”
Ethan froze.
The canteen seemed to lose all sound.
“What did you just say?”
Ryan looked toward Colonel Hale.
The colonel’s face had gone pale.
Ryan whispered:
“Because someone ordered us to leave him there.”