Presidential Shift - Episode 1 (5 page)

What he’d found had left him sickened not
only for his country, but more importantly, for his own career. How
was he supposed to become a top platoon commander if the Marine
Corps gave him dumb farm boys from Arkansas and swamp people from
Louisiana?

Two months after reporting to his battalion,
Second Lieutenant Stricklin pleaded with his company commander to
allow him to pick new men from incoming School of Infantry classes.
The captain, a former enlisted Mustang who Stricklin had come to
loathe, practically laughed him out of the office.

As was his right, 2
^nd
Lt.
Stricklin requested mast with the battalion commander for the way
his own company commander, a man who was charged by the Marine
Corps to mentor 2
^nd
Lt. Stricklin, had treated him.
Steve also wanted to ‘suggest’ to the battalion commander that
maybe he be allowed to be re-assigned to another company.

The meeting had not gone as planned. With his
company commander and battalion Sergeant Major looking on, the
battalion commander had at first politely listened to
2
^nd
Lt. Stricklin’s tale, but had then narrowed his eyes
and spoken with utter disdain.

“Who do you think you are, Lieutenant? What
gives you the right to come in here and charge Captain Nanko?”

“Sir, I believe it’s my right under the
Uniform Code of Military Justice to—.”

“That’s the only reason I sat and listened to
your load of crap,
Lieutenant
.” The word
lieutenant
came out of the battalion commander’s mouth as if he’d vomited out
the vilest piece of food. “Here’s what you’re going to do,
Lieutenant. You will officially drop these ridiculous charges of
harassment, for which you have no merit, I might add, and get your
candy ass back to work.”

“But, sir,” protested Stricklin.

“I’m not finished,” growled the battalion
commander. “I’m willing to keep this quiet as long as you shut your
mouth and get back to what you were sent to this battalion for,
getting your Marines ready for war. I’m not sure if you’ve heard,
but we might be going over to the sandbox soon and you sure as shit
better have your act together. I’ll tell you something else. I
regularly talk to each of my company commanders about their troops.
I also talk to my Marines, private on up. I know more than you
think. I’ve heard about you, Lieutenant. I know you like to take
credit for what your Marines do. I know that you like to place
blame on others.”

“Sir, if you would tell me who told you these
lies—.”

“I told you to shut your mouth, Lieutenant.
And no, I will not tell you who told me. It doesn’t matter. Let’s
just say that once the Lance Corporal rumor mill starts up, there
isn’t much that can stop it. I’m willing to give you another
chance, and so is Captain Nanko, as long as you start learning what
it means to be a Marine officer. Despite what you might think,
Lieutenant, leading Marines is a privilege, not a right.”

Stricklin stood at attention in absolute
shock. How could the battalion commander be so blind? Couldn’t he
see that he was being bullied and thrown under the bus?

“So what’s it gonna be, Lieutenant?”

Stricklin hesitated, and then squared his jaw
and looked straight ahead. “Sir, I’d like to respectfully request
mast with the Commanding General.”

The battalion commander let out a sigh and
looked to Capt. Nanko, who nodded sadly.

“That’s your right, Lieutenant. Sergeant
Major, please provide Lieutenant Stricklin with the proper
paperwork and get the general on the line for me.”

The same thing had happened with the
Commanding General. Stricklin still didn’t understand. They’d all
been against him. In the end, he’d landed in the battalion’s S-3
(operations) shop where his daily routine was consumed with
inspections of the battalion armory, barracks and offices.
Surprisingly, he’d enjoyed the duty and took each and every
detailed inspection seriously. He’d busted no fewer than fifteen
Marines who were secretly drinking under age in the barracks. Over
the strong objections of the Marines’ platoon commanders, his own
naïve peers, the battalion commander had reluctantly disciplined
the minors. Instead of being praised for his hard work in the
successful raid, 2
^nd
Lt. Stricklin was reassigned to the
armory, permanently.

He served out his time with relative ease,
despite having to go off to war with the battalion.

The entire episode had shown Steve Stricklin
that he was the only person who could and would determine his fate.
With a glowing recommendation from a supply major he’d met in Saudi
Arabia, Stricklin applied and was accepted to the FBI Academy. At
the time, the FBI was looking for as many service members with
practical experience as it could find. Although he didn’t get
assigned to a field office as an investigating agent as he’d
originally wanted, his appointment to Internal Affairs came with
certain perks. He was allowed to make his own day for the most
part, and whenever he visited a field office, he was given a wide
berth. Steve liked the feeling of power that it gave him.

After grabbing a soda from the staff lounge,
he headed to his temporary office, a small but tidy corner office
that gave him the privacy he liked. Logging in to his email, he
scanned the various compartmental messages. An email from his
supervisor sat waiting. Steve clicked on it.

The message contained one of his department’s
weekly updates that kept the entire IA team informed about ongoing
investigations. Nothing peaked his interest until the update
labeled
FLOTUS ORANGE BEACH, ALABAMA
. FLOTUS was the acronym
used to describe the first lady of the United States. Just like the
rest of Americans, Steve had heard about the attack on the first
lady and the death of the vice president. The memo outlined the
first lady’s itinerary in Orange Beach and then asked for two
volunteers to augment the investigators doing local checks prior to
the first lady’s appearance starting the next day. Orange Beach
wasn’t far from Birmingham.

Steve was surprised that the first lady was
already coming out in public. Curious, he clicked on the link that
took him to a secure web page where he could see if anyone had
volunteered yet. There was one name. He didn’t recognize the agent.
His interviews in Birmingham could be finished the same day if
Stricklin kept the Birmingham staff at the office until he was
done, which would probably be well past midnight. They couldn’t
complain. It was his call to make. Even the special agent in charge
of the division had to listen.

Smiling, Steve entered his name to volunteer
for the temporary duty in Orange Beach. He could be there by
morning.

+++

“Is everything in place?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want any mistakes this time.”

“There won’t be.”

“Good. Call me when you get to Orange
Beach.”

Continued in Episode 2…

+++++

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