Look, we don’t need some local busybody telling us how to run a base. Go home, bake some cookies, and stay out of military business.” He waved her off like she was a nuisance. But Eleanor didn’t budge. “I need to see my grandson. I have a feeling something is wrong.”
Vance’s smirk vanished, replaced by genuine irritation. He lowered his voice, his tone turning venomous. “Miller is busy. He doesn’t have time for you. And if you keep hanging around here, I’ll have you trespassed. Do you understand?” He turned on his heel and walked back toward the barracks.
The MPs stepped forward, blocking her path. “Please, ma’am. Just go. It’s an order.” Eleanor didn’t say another word. She looked at the closed gate, then at the retreating back of Lieutenant Vance. She saw the fear in the young guards’ eyes. The pieces were falling into place: the fake sign, the hostility, the way they were hiding David.
Something was happening to her grandson, and this Lieutenant was the one behind it. She turned and walked back to her car. The guards sighed in relief, thinking she’d given up. But as she drove away, the “sweet grandma” persona evaporated. In its place was the iron-willed woman who had stood by a Colonel through three wars.
Nobody at Fort Sterling knew it yet, but a storm was coming. Eleanor spent the next week in a state of quiet fury. She couldn’t shake the image of Vance’s arrogant face. Finally, the next official visitation day arrived. Eleanor woke up at 4:00 AM, preparing a fresh meal and a birthday cake. The anxiety in her chest was heavy, but she moved with purpose.
The base looked different this time. The “quarantine” sign was gone, and the parking lot was full of families. She blended in with the crowd, carrying her bags into the visitor’s center. The guards didn’t notice her. The room was loud—families laughing, kids running around. Eleanor scanned the room, her heart racing. Then, she saw him.
In the far corner, sitting alone at a small table, was David. His shoulders were hunched, his head down. Eleanor felt a surge of relief, then a sharp pang of fear. “David!” she called out. He flinched at the sound of her voice. Slowly, he looked up.
Eleanor stopped dead in her tracks. The world seemed to go silent. David had a massive, dark bruise across his left cheekbone. His lip was split, and his eyes—usually so bright—were dull and full of shame. Eleanor felt the blood drain from her face. Her worst fears had been realized.
When David saw her, his eyes filled with tears. “Grandma,” he whispered, his voice cracking. He looked down, unable to hold her gaze. Eleanor reached out, her hand trembling as she touched his bruised face. “Who did this to you?” she asked, her voice a low, dangerous hum.
David just shook his head, the tears spilling over. He gripped her sleeve. “Grandma, do you have any money? I need cash. Please, just… whatever you have.” Eleanor was stunned. David had his own pay, and he was never one to ask for a handout. “I’ll give you whatever you need, honey. Но tell me what’s going on. Why do you need money?” David just kept repeating, “I fell. I just need the cash, Grandma. Please.”
He was terrified, constantly glancing over his shoulder. Eleanor didn’t need to ask more. This was extortion, plain and simple. Just then, the sound of heavy boots echoed across the linoleum floor. David started to shake. The soldiers at the nearby tables went quiet, looking down at their plates.
A shadow fell over their table. Lieutenant Alex Vance stood there, flanked by two large privates who looked more like henchmen than soldiers. Vance looked at Eleanor with a smug grin. “Well, look who made it back. The lady from the gate.” His voice was dripping with fake politeness.
Comments are closed.