The Name on the Orders
1308 Words
SERENA
Some people make an entrance.
Others make a reputation long before they arrive.
I still didn't know which one described the mysterious colonel.
All I knew was that after our conversation, his words refused to leave my mind.
"You don't rely on anyone."
"The mission in Sierra Madre will test more than your skills."
They replayed over and over in my head like a radio that couldn't be switched off.
How could a man who had met me only once understand me better than most people who had known me for years?
The afternoon training resumed as if nothing had happened.
Whistles echoed across the obstacle course while squads rotated through different drills. Some practiced close-quarter combat. Others trained in tactical movement and emergency casualty evacuation.
Maya and I were assigned to the shooting range.
The familiar smell of gunpowder usually helped clear my thoughts.
Today...
It didn't.
"Lieutenant Castillo."
"Sir."
Our firearms instructor handed me a rifle.
"Five hundred meters."
I nodded and stepped into position.
Breathe in.
Hold.
Exhale.
The crosshair settled perfectly on the center of the target.
Bang.
A clean hit.
Another round.
Bang.
Bullseye.
Again.
Bang.
Bullseye.
One after another, every shot landed almost exactly where I wanted it.
The instructor lowered his binoculars.
"Excellent shooting."
"Thank you, sir."
Maya walked over carrying her own rifle.
"Show-off."
"I wasn't trying to."
"You never try."
She shook her head dramatically.
"That's what makes it worse."
I smiled despite myself.
"Focus on your own target."
"Oh, I am."
She leaned closer with a mischievous grin.
"I'm just wondering why our mysterious colonel requested your personnel file."
"I already told you."
"You also told me you don't know why."
"Because I don't."
"Hmm."
That single sound meant trouble.
"What?"
She pointed toward headquarters.
"I think you do."
I followed her gaze.
The colonel stood several meters away, speaking with our commanding general.
Even from across the field, his posture demanded attention.
He wasn't loud.
He wasn't intimidating.
Yet everyone around him instinctively listened whenever he spoke.
Authority didn't always need to be announced.
Sometimes...
It simply existed.
Then, unexpectedly...
His eyes shifted.
For one brief second...
Our gazes met.
I immediately looked away.
Why did that suddenly feel awkward?
By sunset, the base had quieted again.
Soldiers gathered outside the barracks, some cleaning their weapons while others played cards or shared stories from previous deployments.
It was one of the rare moments when everyone seemed...
Normal.
Not officers.
Not soldiers.
Just people.
I sat alone on a wooden bench near the parade grounds, cleaning my service pistol.
The repetitive motion helped organize my thoughts.
Or at least, it usually did.
"You always clean your firearm twice."
The voice startled me.
I looked up.
The colonel stood a few steps away, his hands behind his back.
I immediately rose.
"Sir."
"At ease, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir."
He glanced at the disassembled pistol resting on the bench.
"You already cleaned it this afternoon."
"Yes, sir."
"So why again?"
I looked down at the weapon.
"It's a habit."
"No."
His answer came so calmly that it almost sounded gentle.
"It's a distraction."
I blinked.
"Sir?"
"You clean your weapon whenever you're thinking too much."
Silence.
Again.
How did he keep doing that?
He noticed my expression.
"I've served with soldiers like you."
"I don't understand."
"They convince everyone they're fine."
His gaze remained steady.
"But they carry more weight than anyone realizes."
I tightened my grip on the cleaning cloth.
"I'm fine, sir."
"I know."
His answer surprised me.
"That's not the same as saying you're okay."
For several moments, neither of us spoke.
The sounds of laughter echoed faintly from the nearby barracks.
Somewhere across the camp, a bugle signaled the approaching evening formation.
The colonel finally broke the silence.
"Your brother."
My entire body stiffened.
He noticed.
"You read my file."
"I did."
I swallowed.
"He died during Operation Kalasag eight years ago."
"Yes, sir."
"You've spent every year since trying to become the kind of soldier he never had the chance to be."
The words struck deeper than I wanted to admit.
No one had ever said it out loud before.
Because it was true.
Every promotion.
Every medal.
Every sleepless night.
Every hour spent training.
A part of me believed that if I became strong enough...
Maybe his sacrifice would mean something more.
The colonel looked toward the darkening sky.
"Honor the dead."
He paused.
"But don't punish yourself for surviving."
My throat tightened.
Before I could respond, he simply nodded once.
"Dismissed, Lieutenant."
He turned and walked away.
I watched him disappear into headquarters.
Only when he was completely out of sight did I realize...
I still didn't know his name.
Later that night, Maya burst into my room without knocking.
"I have news."
I looked up from the mission documents spread across my desk.
"You always say that."
"Because I always do."
She dropped onto the chair opposite mine.
"I found out who the mysterious colonel is."
My attention sharpened immediately.
"You did?"
She grinned proudly.
"I have connections."
"You bribed someone with coffee."
"...Maybe."
I laughed quietly.
"So?"
She leaned forward dramatically.
"Colonel Aiden Reyes."
The name sounded familiar.
Where had I heard it before?
Maya continued before I could ask.
"Special Operations Command."
I listened silently.
"Decorated officer."
She counted on her fingers.
"Multiple combat medals."
"Counterterrorism specialist."
"Hostage rescue expert."
"Youngest colonel promoted in the division."
She lowered her voice.
"And according to literally everyone..."
I waited.
"...he has never failed a mission."
I frowned.
"Never?"
She shook her head.
"Not once."
That wasn't normal.
No soldier had a perfect career.
Luck didn't exist forever.
Neither did perfection.
"There has to be something."
Maya shrugged.
"If there is, nobody talks about it."
She stood and stretched.
"Oh."
"What?"
"Guess who's leading Operation Sierra."
A strange feeling settled in my chest before she even answered.
"Colonel Aiden Reyes."
The room suddenly felt quieter.
So...
He was our classified team leader.
Everything made sense now.
His questions.
The evaluation.
Reading my file.
He wasn't judging me.
He had been studying the people under his command.
The following morning, every member of the operation assembled inside Briefing Room Three.
The atmosphere was noticeably different.
No casual conversations.
No jokes.
Everyone understood that once the briefing ended...
Preparation would become reality.
Exactly 0800 hours.
The conference room door opened.
Colonel Aiden Reyes walked inside carrying a classified folder.
Instantly...
The room stood.
"At ease."
His voice was calm.
Firm.
Confident.
He placed the folder on the table before looking around the room.
His eyes stopped briefly on each soldier.
Evaluating.
Observing.
Remembering.
When his gaze reached mine...
It lingered for half a second longer.
Then moved on.
"I'll keep this briefing simple."
The projector illuminated the wall.
A satellite image of Sierra Madre appeared once again.
"Our mission begins in thirty-six hours."
No one moved.
No one spoke.
"This operation is no longer reconnaissance."
Several officers exchanged confused glances.
Colonel Reyes continued.
"New intelligence confirms the insurgents have obtained highly classified military information."
The room grew colder.
"If that information leaves the country..."
He paused.
"...national security will be compromised."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Then he looked directly at every member of the team.
"I chose each of you for a reason."
My heartbeat quickened.
"You are the best this division has to offer."
No pride filled the room.
Only responsibility.
"Failure..."
His voice remained steady.
"...is not an option."
For the first time since joining the military...
I understood exactly why people respected Colonel Aiden Reyes.
It wasn't because of his medals.
Or his rank.
It was because when he spoke...
He made everyone believe that impossible missions could still end with everyone coming home.
And somehow...
That frightened me more than the mission itself.
Because the higher the hope...
The harder the fall.
- Writer
