Chapter 2 - Cold Coffee and Unspoken Names
The kitchen was warm, smelling of cinnamon toast and roasted beans, a scent Marcus had dreamed about in the arid grit of the operational outpost. He sat at the small round breakfast table, his broad shoulders dwarfing the wooden chair. Lily was on the rug near the pantry, quietly lining up colorful plastic blocks, her eyes darting back to her father every few seconds as if afraid he would vanish if she blinked too long.
Sarah pushed a mug of hot coffee toward him. The steam curled between them like a fragile boundary. ""You haven't slept,"" she said softly, sitting opposite him and crossing her arms over her chest. ""Your eyes look like they haven't closed in three days.""
""Sleep comes slow on the C-17s,"" Marcus replied, wrapping both hands around the ceramic mug. The warmth seeped into his scarred knuckles, but the chill inside his chest remained untouched. He hadn't told her that the transport hadn't come directly from the regional logistics hub. It had diverted through an auxiliary airfield in southern Germany, where men in plain dark suits had boarded to debrief his squad in utter silence.
""Lily asked about you every single night,"" Sarah continued, her voice dipping into that fragile register wives use when recounting survival. ""She thought every truck that passed the window was your truck. I didn't know what to tell her after month six, Marcus. When the letters stopped coming.""
Marcus dropped his gaze to the dark liquid in the cup. ""The network was cut. Outpost security protocol. We were operating beyond standard comms range.""
""Beyond range, or beyond orders?""
The question hung in the air, heavy and sharp. Marcus felt his jaw tighten. Sarah was an officer's daughter; she understood the lexicon of military obfuscation better than most. She knew that communication blackouts rarely lasted sixty consecutive days unless something had gone catastrophically wrong.
""We followed protocol,"" he said, the words coming out mechanical and practiced.
""And Miller? And Sergeant Vance?"" Sarah asked, her voice dropping to a whisper so Lily wouldn't notice. ""Their wives called me, Marcus. Clara Vance came to my door crying two weeks ago. The casualty notification officers hadn't visited, but no paychecks had been deposited. The unit liaison told them their files were temporarily flagged for administrative audit.""
Marcus’s hand tightened around the coffee mug until his knuckles turned chalk-white. A faint shudder passed through his wrist. He looked out the window into the quiet suburban backyard, where the swing set he built two years ago swayed slightly in the morning air.
Suddenly, Lily let out a small shriek of excitement and pointed out the kitchen window.
May you like
""Look, Daddy! Big black car!""
Marcus turned his head instantly. Parked at the curb directly opposite their driveway was an unmarked dark sedan, its engine idling, dark tinted windows reflecting the grey morning sky.
