When HEROES don't come HOME

Chapter Fifteen – The Office

The blinds cut the afternoon sun into narrow bars across the polished desk. The air inside Major Collins’s office felt heavy, almost suffocating. On the shelf behind him, thick binders stood like soldiers at attention. The smell of coffee gone cold clung to the air.

Colonel Matthews was already pacing when Collins entered. His boots struck the floor hard, sharp, as though each step was an accusation. He was red in the face, fists clasped behind his back like a man trying to chain down his temper.

“You’ve lost control of your people, Collins,” Matthews snapped, turning on him before the door even shut. “That woman—your medic—is a goddamn liability.”

Collins closed the door quietly, moved behind his desk, and set his glasses on the file before him. “Her name is Corporal Carter,” he said, voice calm. “And she is not a liability. She’s grieving.”

“Grieving?” Matthews barked a humorless laugh. “She’s insubordinate! She asks questions, ignores boundaries, pokes her nose into classified operations. That isn’t grief—that’s recklessness.”

Collins met his glare evenly. “It’s both. You can’t separate them. You took her husband, buried him in an empty box, and told her to smile for the flag. What did you expect?”

“I expected a soldier,” Matthews thundered. He slammed his fist onto the edge of the desk. “Not some loose cannon making noise. We gave her honors, respect, a folded flag. That’s the end of the Army’s responsibility.”

Collins stood slowly, his calm cracking. “The end? You call that the end? A folded flag doesn’t bury the questions, Colonel. A folded flag doesn’t erase the lies.”

Matthews’s lip curled. He leaned over the desk, his breath hot with anger. “Watch your tone, Collins. You’re not above me.”

“I don’t need to be above you to see the rot in this,” Collins shot back. “She’s a soldier, yes, but she’s also human. And she’s smart. Smarter than you give her credit for. She sees the gaps, the holes, the things we paper over. That terrifies you.”

Matthews straightened, face hardening into fury. “What terrifies me is losing a project that will redefine warfare. Do you have any idea what’s at stake? If the serum passes clinical trials, combat endurance doubles. Reflexes increase by thirty percent. Recovery time cut in half. Do you understand the leverage that gives us? Contracts in the billions. Superiority over every adversary. This isn’t about one widow’s pain. This is about the future of the military as we know it.”

Collins’s fists clenched at his sides. “You’re turning soldiers into guinea pigs. Into data points. And when one dies, you don’t even give his wife the courtesy of truth. You think you can build history out of lies, but all you’re building is collapse.”

Matthews’s eyes flashed. “You self-righteous bastard. Do you know how many lives this could save? How many wars it could shorten?”

“Do you know how many lives it’s already cost?” Collins shot back. His voice cracked like a whip. “How many of our men and women have been shoved into experiments without their knowledge, without consent, treated as assets to be traded? Carter is only one. How many more, Matthews? How many widows are we making?”

Matthews’s face twisted. “Don’t pretend you care more than the rest of us. You sit here, tidy in your office, pretending you’re better. But you know as well as I do—progress is ugly. We don’t get to be choosy about the cost.”

Collins stepped out from behind his desk, his voice rising now. “Progress without honor isn’t progress. It’s corruption. You want to push your serum? Fine. But don’t you dare destroy her for asking why her husband never came home.”

Matthews leaned in, voice low and venomous. “She’s dangerous, Collins. And if you don’t rein her in, someone else will.”

Collins’s jaw tightened. He refused to break the stare. The silence stretched until Matthews sneered, shaking his head.

“You always were too soft,” Matthews muttered. “It’s going to bite you.” He turned sharply, pacing toward the window, then back. His boots struck like hammer blows. “You’re blind if you think she’s just a grieving widow. She’s a threat to all of this. And if this project goes down because of her, you’ll have her blood on your hands, not me.”

Collins’s voice dropped, softer but sharper. “If it goes down, it’ll be because of your arrogance. Not her questions.”

Matthews’s face flushed deeper. “Arrogance? You think you’re the moral compass here? You think you’re the voice of reason? You’re nothing but an obstacle. And obstacles get removed.”

Before Collins could answer, there was a knock at the door.

“Sir,” an aide said, poking his head in, “Corporal Carter is here to see you.”

Matthews froze. His rage boiled over. “Unbelievable. She dares—” He cut himself off, his fists trembling. “This isn’t over, Collins.”

He stormed out, boots pounding the floor, the door slamming hard enough to rattle the blinds.

Silence returned. Collins exhaled slowly, as if releasing the poison Matthews left behind.

“Send her in,” he told the aide.

—

The door opened again. Emily stepped inside.

The room smelled of leather, coffee, and something sharp—anger still clinging to the air. She felt it before she saw it.

She saluted. “Sir.”

Collins gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit.”

She lowered herself into the chair, back straight, palms damp against her knees.

“You asked to see me,” Collins said. His tone was measured, but softer than the exchange before.

“Yes, sir,” Emily said firmly. “I want to return to duty.”

Collins studied her. His gaze lingered, as though weighing more than her words. “Why?”

“Because if I don’t work, I’ll break,” she said. Her voice wavered, but she steadied it. “Sitting at home is worse than anything. I need purpose. I need to be useful.”

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the desk. “Purpose can cut both ways, Carter. It can keep you standing—or push you into fire.”

“I understand,” she said. “But I have nothing left except this. I can do the work.”

Collins let the silence stretch, testing her. “Can you follow orders? Even when you disagree?”

She drew a long breath. “I can.”

“Can you put aside your questions long enough to do the job in front of you?”

Her eyes flickered. “I can try. But you know as well as I do—I see things. I notice. I can’t unsee them.”

A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. “Yes. That’s what Matthews hates about you.”

Her chest tightened. “Matthews?”

Collins leaned back, sighing. “He was here before you came. He wanted me to shut you out. To label you unstable. He sees you as a threat.”

Emily’s throat tightened. “Am I?”

“Only to people who fear the truth,” Collins said softly. He paused, then added, “Emily, listen. I want you to hear this clearly. I’m sorry. For everything. For Daniel. For the child. None of this should have happened to you. And if I approve your return, it’s not for the Army’s sake. It’s because you need it. Because maybe this is the only thing that can hold you together.”

Her vision blurred for a second, but she forced the tears back. “Thank you, sir.”

“I’ll help you as much as I can,” Collins continued. “But I need your word. If I see you’re slipping, if I think you’re drowning, I will pull you back myself. Understand?”

She nodded once. “Yes, sir.”

“Then report tomorrow morning. You’ll be reinstated.”

Relief flooded her chest, though her face stayed composed.

Collins gave a small nod. “Don’t thank me yet. Just do what you’ve always done—more than what’s asked.”

She stood, saluted again. He returned it crisply.

When the door closed behind her, Collins sat back in his chair, pinched the bridge of his nose, and exhaled. Matthews had been right about one thing: Emily Carter was dangerous. Not because she lacked discipline—but because she refused to break.