He didn’t know that the “costume” he was mocking belonged to the 3rd Brigade Combat Team.
He didn’t know that the man standing inches behind him was the Commanding General of that very brigade.
And he certainly didn’t know that the soldier he was currently humiliating was the sole reason the General’s son was still breathing today.
Lawson was busy enjoying his power trip, completely unaware that he was tightening a noose around his own neck with every insult he spoke.
“Pick it up,” Lawson sneered, pointing at the ID on the floor. “On your knees.”
Caldwell took one more step forward, his eyes cold as steel. The trap was set…
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