Chapter 57: The Midnight Inspection

At 02:00, the barracks lights slammed on. It wasn't the shrill blast of a whistle that woke them; it was the rhythmic, heavy thud of combat boots—twenty pairs of them.

The "Old Guard" was back. Thorne, Jax, and Stitch stood at the end of the hallway, looking like they had just stepped out of a Chinook in 2012. I stood in the center, Charles at my shoulder.

"Front and center, Vance," I said. My voice wasn't loud, but in the silence of the barracks, it sounded like a gavel.

Vance scrambled out of his bunk, his boots half-laced. The rest of the recruits followed, shivering in the sudden chill of the open windows.

"I hear you boys like 'white-outs'," I said, gesturing to the floor. "Since you were so generous with the chalk in the armory, I thought we’d return the favor. This floor is currently 'black.' By 05:00, I want it 'white.' And I don't mean chalk. I want it scrubbed until the wax reflects the ceiling."

"Ma'am, it's 02:00..." one recruit started.

Thorne stepped forward, his massive frame casting a shadow that swallowed the kid whole. "The Colonel didn't ask for the time, son. She gave an objective. In the Kunar, 02:00 was when the Taliban liked to move. If you can’t handle a mop at 02:00, you sure as hell can’t handle a SAW."