Chapter 4 - Whispers in the CorridorThe next morning, the base hospital was buzzing with preparation for the annual commander's inspection, scheduled for the following week. It was the perfect stage. High-ranking generals from Washington would be arriving to tour the facilities, and Holt was desperate to present a flawless, highly disciplined unit.
I found Mara in the basement archives, organizing old patient charts. The air was cool and smelled of dust and paper.
"They are going to try to transfer you before the generals arrive, aren't they?" I asked, stepping into the quiet aisle.
Mara didn't look up from her filing cabinet. "Crane told me this morning. I'm being reassigned to an outpatient clinic in Alaska. The transfer papers are being processed on Monday."
"Because they are afraid of what might happen if you are here when the inspector general walks through," I said. "A Navy nurse with a tremor and a massive, un-cited burn scar is a liability to their perfect story."
She stopped filing, her fingers resting on a cardboard folder. "It doesn't matter. I don't have the strength to fight them anymore, Commander. I just want to do my job."
"They stole your honor, Mara," I said, stepping closer. "They took the medals that should be pinning your name to the walls of the Pentagon, and they used them to secure their own comfortable desks. We are going to stop that transfer."
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She looked at me, a flicker of genuine hope fighting through the exhaustion in her eyes. "How?"
"We are going to find the unredacted casualty report," I said. "The original one. Before Holt's red pen got to it."
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