Nothing but Trouble_ A Kevin Kerney Novel - Michael Mcgarrity [25]
Sara sat. TDY meant temporary duty. “What would the job entail, General?”
“You’d serve as a member of a special project team tasked with preparing an advanced military-police-officer curriculum for reserve and National Guard units. It must be accomplished in six months.”
Sara nodded, wondering why the training branch would be given a project that rightly fell under Thatcher’s purview.
“However, if you choose, you could remain in your present position until your permanent orders come through. That would allow you to take your scheduled thirty-day leave next month.”
“Sir,” Sara said, “would it be possible for me to start on the TDY project after my return from leave?”
Thatcher almost sneered with delight. “I rather doubt it. The assignment has the highest priority. What shall it be, Colonel?”
Stone faced, Sara parried Thatcher’s squeeze play. “If possible, General, I would appreciate it if you would query the training branch on my behalf to determine if I could begin the assignment after I return from leave.”
Thatcher shook his head. “I’m afraid I need a yes or a no from you, Colonel.”
Sara stood and snapped to attention. “With all due respect, you have my answer, General.”
“I doubt your answer will be well received,” Thatcher said. He looked decidedly pleased with the prospect of keeping Sara under his thumb for a while longer. “But I will pass your request along. You’re dismissed, Colonel.”
Sara saluted, did an abrupt about-face, and left Thatcher’s office. He waited a few minutes before dialing the number of the aide-de-camp to the vice chief of staff, who was organizing the special team.
“General Thatcher here,” he said when the aide answered.
“Yes, General.”
“I’m calling about Lieutenant Colonel Brannon.”
“Sir, will you hold for the vice chief?”
Taken aback, Thatcher said, “Of course.” He’d had no inkling of the vice chief’s personal interest in Brannon or the project.
Quickly, General Henry Powhatan Clarke came on the line. “What did the colonel decide, Stuart?” he asked.
“I believe Colonel Brannon would rather remain in her current position, sir.”
“What makes you say that?” Clarke asked.
“She seems quite satisfied here, General.”
Henry Powhatan Clarke knew better. As a four-star general recently installed as the vice chief of staff, he’d checked up on Sara Brannon without her knowledge. She’d been one of the best young officers to serve under him in Korea, winning the prestigious Distinguished Service Medal and a meritorious field promotion to her present rank. Under Thatcher, a man who should never have been allowed to pin a star on his collar, she was languishing, not being used to her full abilities.
“Did she turn down the assignment?” Clarke asked.
“Not in so many words.”
“What exactly did she say?”
“She asked if she could take the TDY assignment after completing her leave. I told her it was unlikely.”
“Did you, now? Well, you tell her I want her bright eyed and bushy tailed when she reports to the training branch after her leave is over.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where in the hell did you get this notion she had to start the job immediately?”
“I believe that’s what your aide told me, General,” Thatcher replied.
“Negative, Thatcher. My aide made the call to you from my office, and he said no such thing.”
“I must have misunderstood, General.”
“Indeed you did,” Clarke snapped. “When does Colonel Brannon start her leave?”
“In about two or three weeks, sir.”
“Very well. Before she departs, make sure you’ve done her efficiency rating and forward a copy of it to me immediately. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And let Colonel Brannon know ASAP that she’s good to go as the team leader of the TDY assignment.”
The line went dead before Thatcher could respond. His hands were sticky with sweat. He dropped the receiver in the cradle, rubbed a hand through his buzz-cut hair, stared at the palm print on the desktop, wiped it dry with his shirtsleeve, and let