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“HE SH.OT ME AT MY OWN MEDAL CEREMONY—THEN STILL CLAIMED I WAS ‘UNSTABLE.’” / Chapter 4 / 10

Chapter 4 - The Spin Machine

The recovery room at Naval Hospital Beaufort smelled of antiseptic and ozone. When I opened my eyes, the white fluorescent lights hummed with an agonizing clarity.

My right side was bound tightly in bandages, and an IV drip clicked steadily beside my bed. My squadmate, Technical Sergeant Marcus Diaz, was sitting in the vinyl chair by the window, his head tilted back, snoring lightly.

"Diaz," I croaked.

He bolted awake instantly, rubbing his eyes and leaning over the rail. "Julian. Hey, easy. Don't try to move that leg. The surgeon pulled a .38 caliber slug out of your iliac crest. Said it chipped the bone, missed the artery by two centimeters."

"Arthur?" I asked.

Diaz’s face darkened. "In federal custody down at the Charleston County Detention Center. Office of Special Investigations and the FBI are handling it since it went down on base." He hesitated, glancing at the small television mounted on the wall. The volume was muted, but a local news channel was playing a montage of the ceremony.

"What is it, Marcus?"

Diaz grabbed the remote and turned up the sound slightly.

A slick-haired civilian lawyer in a tailored suit was standing outside the courthouse steps, addressing a bank of microphones. Beside him, Arthur’s sister, my estranged aunt Clara, was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

"...my client, Arthur Pendelton, acted in a moment of extreme, justifiable panic," the lawyer was saying smoothly. "Julian Vance has suffered severe psychological deterioration following his overseas tours. For months, Mr. Pendelton has received erratic, threatening communications from his stepson. Arthur came to the base yesterday hoping for a reconciliation, carrying a licensed firearm solely for his personal protection after Julian threatened to murder him. When Julian advanced toward the crowd in an agitated state, Mr. Pendelton discharged his weapon in self-defense. The military is attempting to scapegoat a loving father to protect their public image."

I stared at the screen, my heart hammering against my ribs until the heart monitor began to beep in rapid, anxious rhythm.

"He doesn't stop," I whispered, the room tilting around me. "He never stops."

"It’s total bullshit, Julian," Diaz said fiercely, leaning close. "We’ve got two hundred witnesses. We’ve got the General."

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"It doesn't matter to Arthur," I said, cold sweat prickling my forehead. "He doesn't need to win in court. He just needs to make people think I'm dirty. That’s what he does. He poisons the water."

***

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Chapter 5 - Ward 4B
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