Chief Michaels was the last man in the room, and closed the door behind him. Faith made his way to the far side of his office and slid in behind his desk. Michaels sat down in the chair immediately in front of the desk, but Faith noticed that the other men waited until they were invited to sit down before they pulled chairs and a footlocker across the floor and took a seat.
“Captain Faith, I wanted to introduce you to some friends of mine,” Michaels began, “these men are from ODA 2225. They have something they want to say to you.”
“Nice to meet all of you,” Faith said, shaking their hands. Based on the numeric designation of the ODA, Faith knew that these men were in the same company his father had been in. The first digit of the ODA designation was the Group, in this case 2nd Group. The second digit was the battalion, the third the company, and the fourth and final digit was the specific ODA within the company. So, these men happened to be from B/2/2, the same company to which Faith’s father had been assigned, although they were all far too young to have served with him.
The introductions completed, the men with Chief Michaels seemed a bit uncomfortable, and no one seemed to be in a hurry to say whatever it was they had to tell to Faith. “You men are B/2/2? My father was in that unit, back in the day,” Faith offered as a means of starting the conversation.
“So we heard,” one of the men replied, “that’s pretty cool, that you’re keeping it in the family. So when are you going to go to the Q Course and come join his old battalion?”
Faith laughed. “I’m happy being an intel guy, thank you very much. Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?”
The man Faith was speaking to shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Hey sir,” said another man, who Faith recalled introduced himself as “Drew,” “I’m the team sergeant for 2225. That big-ass safe that is downstairs, outside the SCIF? It’s ours. When we got back from our last trip to Afghanistan four months ago, we told our junior 18E he had to get it turned in before he went on leave. He said he took care of it, and we never go down to the SCIF so we didn’t know he just dropped it off and dumped it on you guys.” Drew paused for a moment before continuing. “Chief Michaels explained to us what happened, and that you got a little hemmed up over it. I wanted to say we’re sorry about that, our 18E was a bit of a problem child, always taking shortcuts and whatnot, he ended up getting a DUI during block leave right after that deployment, so we put his rucksack in the hall and DX’d him for someone a little more competent,” he added, jerking his thumb in the direction of one of his teammates, a much younger-looking man whose name Faith couldn’t recall at the moment.
“Well, not that much more competent,” Drew added, clearly meaning it as a joke. “At any rate,” he continued, “We came by to offer our apologies, and if you want, we’ll carry that safe back over to our team room and get it out of your hair.”
Faith considered what Drew had just said. Slightly confused, Faith turned towards Chief Michaels. “Chief,” Faith enquired, “How did you know that the safe belonged to 2225?”
“There was a classified control cover sheet in the safe, it had the appropriate identifying information on it,” Michaels replied.
“But there weren’t any of those sheets in the safe when the inspection team went through the safe,” Faith said, now even more confused.
“No sir, there wasn’t anything in that safe when the inspection team got here, that didn’t need to be in that safe when the inspection team got here.”
“I… see,” Faith said, although he wasn’t sure that he actually did see.
“So, about that safe,” Drew interjected. “Want me to have my guys go get it? We have a dolly out in the truck.”
Faith considered the offer. “Well, do you guys need a safe like that?”
“No sir,” Drew answered, “That’s why I wanted our former 18E to turn it in.”
“Well, if it’s just going to sit around taking up space somewhere, we might as well keep it. I already asked one of my guys to get it moved into the SCIF, don’t worry about it, we’ll get it taken care of.”
“Great,” said Drew.
“And yeah this whole thing was a bit of a pain in the ass,” Faith continued, “Well, actually it’s a bit of an ongoing pain in the ass, but ultimately my guys should have noticed an enormous freakin’ safe outside the SCIF for six months, and done something else about it other than use it as a hat rack. So as far as I’m concerned, this is an intel problem and it’s going to get sorted out by intel people.”
“Roger, sir,” said Drew, standing up to leave. Faith walked them to the door, noticing that Chief Michaels was still seated, and apparently was sticking around.
“Hey, sir, thanks for being cool about this,” Drew said as he shook Faith’s hand on the way out. “If you need something from B/2/2, or 2nd Battalion for that matter, ask for “Razor,” I’ll get you taken care of.”
“Why do they call you “Razor?” Faith asked.
“Probably because he’s in desperate need of a shave,” Chief Michaels chimed in from across the room. Drew/Razor smiled as he walked out of Faith’s office. The other men from ODA 2225 filed out after him. As the last man walked out, he turned to Faith and said, “Hey sir, I’m Paul. I’m new to the Group but I’m pretty sure I’ll be sticking around for a while. Thanks for helping us out with this safe thing, maybe I’ll be able to do something to help you out one day.”
“Thanks Paul, I look forward to working with you,” Faith replied.
Scandalous!
:-"
