Robin Hood

Chapter 1

Lieutenant Maid

Sharp measured steps echoed throughout the hall as secretaries, lawyers, MP’s, and anyone else with an excuse to be there bustled back and forth past her. All of those shapes rushing by, paying her no mind. Her ears were filled with the sounds of conversations about misconduct, the sounds of papers being shuffled and the ancient ceiling fan trying to cool down the giant sweaty hotbox of a courthouse. As she sat there in her hot uncomfortable uniform in an even more uncomfortable brown metal chair, staring intensely at the wall in front of her, anxiously pushing back her cuticles she found herself thinking, This is it, your career’s over. You goddamn idiot. They’re gonna fucking crucify you. Three tours in Shah-i-kot, on the fast track to Colonel, what the fuck Mari. All you had to do was look the other way one god damn time. As she found herself going to that place, she tried to push those thoughts aside. Snap out of it. You’ll be fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.

Then suddenly, the door next to her jerked open. Her head snapped toward the sound like a deer hearing a twig snap.

“Lieutenant!” She jumped up to attention. “Now.” Barked a tall square-jawed MP from inside the courtroom. She nodded, steeling herself for the inevitable ass kicking she was about to receive. The MP held the door open for her as she marched into the lion’s den, a stuffy old courtroom filled with wooden furniture, the early evening sun blazing through the high windows, and two tables; one with her appointed legal council nervously wringing his fingers and the other with a smug looking prosecutor. I’m so fucked, she thought as the MP marched her forward.

“Second lieutenant Maid.” A voice boomed through the courtroom. The judge sitting in front of her, a four star general with a massive bald head and no neck. The closest thing to a human bulldog she’s ever seen. He glared at her from under a pair of bushy white eyebrows and a very pink sunburnt forehead. He placed his hands on the table in front of him and interlocked his fingers, letting out a tired sigh. Like a dad who knew he was about to hear their kid try sell them some bullshit story. “We’re here today to determine your guilt and sentence you accordingly. You are being charged with assaulting a superior officer. This court finds you guilty.”

“Permission to speak sir?” The judge pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Granted…” He grumbled.

“I was justified in my actions. Captain Miller was assaulting an innocent civilian. If I hadn’t intervened he would have killed him.” She said, clenching her jaw.

“Yes well the evidence presented here today has made us believe that to be untrue. As a result, and taking your service record into account, you are hereby stripped of all rank and you will receive a dishonorable discharge. Be grateful you aren’t doing any jail time Ms. Maid.”

She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, hot, angry, and frustrated. Years of her life, all the miles of marching, all the drills, all the shit she had to eat to be taken seriously to get to lieutenant… all the friends she’d lost. All for nothing. She found herself wishing she’d just fragged the son of a bitch when she had the chance.

“Yes sir.” She growled through her teeth. The MP placed his hand on her shoulder and lead her out of the courtroom.

The next few hours were a blur of signing paper after paper, the occasional existential crisis, panic, and anger. She couldn’t even tell you about the cab ride back to base or how she’d gotten back to the barracks to start packing her things. She couldn’t hear the voices of any of the men offering their sympathy, or the other officers offering to buy her a beer later. The worst of it was folding her BDU’s All of the blood sweat and tears that they had seen. All the LRP’s and gunfights, the blisters and sprains, the blood and guts… all the pain. Folding it u and putting it away was like destroying a part of herself. The tears had started to come back, this time they weren’t angry or frustrated they were tired and afraid. Wiping her eyes she became her own drill instructor, What are you doing?! Straighten up Goddamnit! Crying is for quitters! Are you a quitter?! Are you dead yet?! You don’t get to quit on me ‘til you’re dead soldier!!! She clenched her jaw and tried to stop feeling sorry for herself, knowing that when you stay in that mindset is when you start dying. There’s a problem, solve it. Don’t sit around wishing it hadn’t happened.

After she’d emptied her footlocker, put on her civies, and packed everything in her ruck, she stood up, took one last look at the barracks knowing she’d never see it again. It had been emptied out while the company was on a night recon drill. She’d never seen it emptied out before, even when she was injured there would always be at least one other person here. Feeling herself linger a little too long and the feelings of self pity begin to creep back in she turned on her heel and made for the door.

It was a long quiet march across the parade grounds to the main entrance. She showed the guard her I.D. card and he opened the gate for her. Walking out onto the street she realized she had no plans for where to go or how to get there. She kind of got caught up in the whole dishonorable discharge thing. Solve the problem, she thought. Looking around to try and think of a solution she saw a car parked across the street, a black mercedes with blacked out windows and leaning on it was some suit with a briefcase and he was staring right at her. Before she could wonder what his deal was he started making his way over. I swear to god if he’s a lawyer I’m going to crush his windpipe. As he crossed the street his face came into focus, kid couldn’t have been more than eighteen, some pale blonde little pissant who had obviously never worked outside a day in his life and looked like was wearing what must have been his father’s suit.

“Lieutenant Maid?” He asked before getting all the way across the street.

“Used to be.” She replied dryly. The suit began reaching in his jacket pocket and out of instinct she began reaching for a holster that was no longer there. Thankfully her training induced paranoia was all for nothing when he produced a business card. Holding it in two fingers he handed it to her. On the black card in raised gold lettering read, Sherwood Security Solutions and under that in smaller letters read CEO John King.

“Mr. King is very interested in working with you.”