but Sergeant First Class Lloyd had been in the army more than twice as many years as Thane. A platoon sergeant was a platoon leader’s right arm. The platoon didn’t run well without either one of them—and no NCO let his lieutenant forget it, either.
Sergeant First Class Lloyd was older, more experienced—and married, too. In other words, he’d enjoy razzing his bachelor platoon leader about his love life. Thane wasn’t going to give him a pink-fonted excuse to do it.
Thane kicked back in his government-issued desk chair and put his booted feet up on the gray desk that had probably served all the platoon leaders who’d come before him since Vietnam. Maybe even further back. The battleship-gray metal desk was old but indestructible. He liked it.
“I take it you didn’t come here to tell me the CO went home.” Retreat had sounded, the flag had been lowered, all the enlisted soldiers dismissed, but the lieutenants were still here because the company commander—the CO—was still here. It wasn’t a written rule, but Thane was old enough to know that it wasn’t wise for platoon leaders to leave before the company commander did.
“It’s Friday, sir. I wouldn’t still be here if the CO had left.” Just as the platoon leaders didn’t leave before the company commander, the platoon sergeants didn’t leave before the first sergeant did. Since the first sergeant didn’t leave before the company commander did, here they all were, waiting for Friday night to begin.
Thane watched his platoon sergeant head for the empty desk next to his own. Was the man going to take a seat and settle in for a chat? It wasn’t like him. Sergeant First Class Lloyd was a man of few words.
“Do you have any big plans for the weekend, sir?” asked the noncommissioned officer of few words.
“Just the usual.”
“Kicking ass and taking names?”
“Not tonight. Lieutenant Salvatore has duty.”
The man started pulling out desk drawers, then slamming them shut. “Whiskey and women then, sir?”
“Also not happening tonight.” Thane leaned back a little more in his chair and tucked his hands behind his head. “Sleep. Nothing but sweet sleep.”
His platoon sergeant spared him a quick glance. “You pulled another thirty-six hours, sir?”
An affirmative grunt was enough of an answer.
Without further comment, Sergeant First Class Lloyd sat in the desk chair and started testing its tilt and the height of its armrests.
“What are you doing?” Thane finally asked. “You planning on buying that chair after this test ride?”
“No, sir. Just seeing if I should permanently borrow it before the new platoon leader arrives.”
Thane sat up, boots hitting the floor. “Don’t get my hopes up, Sergeant First Class. Is there a new platoon leader coming in?”
“Yes, sir. In-processing on post.”
“About damn time.” Thane didn’t like the look on the sergeant’s face, though. “Let’s hear it. I can tell you got more intel.”
“Brand-new second lieutenant, fresh out of Leonard Wood.”
Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, was the home of the Military Police Corps. All new second lieutenants had to go through the four months of BOLC, Basic Officer Leadership Course, there. If that was all his platoon sergeant had on the new guy, it hardly counted as intel.
Thane leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head once more. “It’s that time of year. The college boys all graduate in May and complete BOLC in the fall. It would be too much to hope for to get someone with experience. It’s butter bar season.”
The term butter bar referred to the yellow color of the single bar that denoted the rank of second lieutenant. As a first lieutenant, Thane’s rank insignia was a black bar on the camouflaged ACUs he wore almost every day, or a silver bar on the dress uniform.
“Sergeant First Class Ernesto has broken in his fair share of lieutenants,” Thane said. “I’m sure he’ll handle this one. I just want someone to throw into the duty officer rotation. A butter bar will work.”
Sergeant First Class Ernesto was the platoon sergeant for fourth platoon. He’d been running fourth platoon without a platoon leader for three months, attending all the first sergeant’s meetings for NCOs and then the commander’s meetings for the platoon leaders, as well. Thane would bet money that fourth platoon’s sergeant felt the same way he did. Even a wet-behind-the-ears butter bar would be better than nothing.
“Well, sir, you’ll get to update that duty roster soon enough. The new LT already had one ride-along. A couple more ride-alongs this weekend, and you can add that name to your schedule.”
“Do you have a name yet?”
“Second Lieutenant Michaels. I’ll be right back.” Lloyd rolled the office chair out the door. Each office in the headquarters building held two desks. While fourth platoon had no lieutenant, Lloyd had been using the desk next to Ernesto, two NCOs doing their NCO thing, but the new platoon leader would be in Ernesto’s office now. Thane would have to get used to having his own platoon sergeant sharing this room again.
He picked up his cell phone and unlocked the screen. Pink words awaited him. Something came up, and I won’t be able to be by the phone tonight. There goes our Star Trek marathon. I’m sorry. The best-laid plans of mice and men...
They’d planned to write each other while watching the same channel tonight—so he knew Ballerina Baby lived in the United States somewhere and got the sci-fi channel on cable—but it looked like his evening was suddenly free. And more boring. The disappointment was sharp, but he had to play it cool. He wasn’t her boyfriend. He couldn’t demand to know why she was changing her plans, and he shouldn’t demand it. If Ballerina said she couldn’t make it, he believed her. Thane frowned. He also wasn’t sure who’d said the mice and men line.
Shakespeare? That was right nine times out of ten.
Gotcha. Robbie Burns. You’re not a fan of Scottish poetry?
Damn. She’d gotten him last week with Burns, raving about how she loved her new sofa that was the color of a red, red rose. No, but I’m a fan of Star Trek and I’m a fan of you. Now I only get one of those two things tonight.
His platoon sergeant came back in, pushing a chair with squeaky wheels ahead of himself. Thane turned his phone screen off. With all the pink and blue letters, it practically looked like a baby announcement. Lloyd would have a field day with that.
Thane stood up. “I’ll help you move the rest of your stuff. You prefer the squeaky wheels, huh?”
“No, sir. That’s why I just upgraded. I’m going to leave this chair here.”
“You’re not moving back in?”
Lloyd had that grin on his face again, the one Thane didn’t trust. “Well, sir, maybe an experienced lieutenant like yourself ought to show the new lieutenant the ropes. Maybe we should keep one office NCOs, one office lieutenants.”
“No. No way. You’re not sticking
