Whiplash

“So I guess this was the right stop,” he told her.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“You said you ‘supposed.’ Like you had some doubts. But you work here, so you knew.”

“You ‘suppose’ I work at the Pentagon,” she told him.

Da

Mary Clair Be

In the days before titles were engineered to replace pay raises, Ms. Be

“Well, thanks for getting me here,” Da

Ms. Be

The line led to a sophisticated biometric sca

The system checked a person’s identity by comparing a number of facial and physical features with its stored memory. The early Dreamland version had been somewhat larger, and tended to take its time identifying people; it would have impractical dealing with a workforce even half the size of the Pentagon’s. In the fifteen or sixteen years since then, the engineers managed to make it smaller and considerably faster. The detectors were entirely contained in a pair of slim metallic poles that rose from the marble foyer floor; they co

One couldn’t simply visit the Pentagon; his or her name had to be on a list. Even a general who didn’t have an office here needed a “sponsor” who made sure his or her name was entered into the system.

“Please wait, sir,” said the sergeant as Da

The more things change, the more they stay the same, thought Da

Then, the process could take as long as half a day. Now it took only a few seconds.

“Please step forward,” said the sergeant.

“Good,” said the second sergeant at the console, waving Da

Startled, Da

“Um, uh—you’re, uh, Colonel Freah.” The soldier, embarrassed by his outburst, stepped awkwardly away from the console and snapped off a salute.

It was u

“This here’s a Medal of Honor wi

Now it was Da

More specifically, remembering the men he couldn’t save, rather than those he did.

“It was…a while ago,” he mumbled before forcing a smile. “Thank you, though. Thank you.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” said the sergeant nearest him.

“You all have a good day,” said Da

It had happened a very long time ago, more than a decade, during his last assignment with Whiplash—his last assignment at Dreamland, in fact. Colonel Tecumseh “Dog” Bastian had just turned the base over to a three-star general, officially completing his mission and restoring the base to its former glory after an infamous scandal had threatened its closing. Da

Just one more job before you go, son. Can you do it?

The irony for Da

Those days were long gone. Da

In a perfect world the coveted star would have been presented to him on a velvet pillow, thanks to his service record. But the world was far from perfect. The enmity that Dog had earned throughout the military bureaucracy also extended to those closely associated with him, including Da

Still, professional back-biting, petty rivalries, and old boys (and girls) clubs wouldn’t have amounted to much of a block to Da

The new administration had come into office the previous year by promising to both balance the budget and hold the line on taxes. Other administrations had made similar promises. The difference was that this President, Christine Mary Todd, actually meant to keep her word. Every area of the budget had been cut, including and especially the military. The Air Force was looking to cut the number of generals on its rolls in half.

The man Da