On occasion back in North Carolina, he’d had a beer with some of them at the local watering hole, and they’d talked work and sports. Mostly he’d listen, adding little to the conversation. He was used to the jokes about him being a hard-ass. Some of the guys even tried breaking him out of the character they accused him of being in at all times, but it never happened. It never would because it wasn’t an act. He just had no desire to open up to anyone and talk about his personal life. As he told them all, he didn’t have much of a personal life, so there was nothing to talk about.

Now that he was at a new base, he already knew the invitations to have a beer with his “brothers” were going to be inevitable. But just like back at his old base, he didn’t want his lack of socializing to do just the opposite of what it was supposed to do—keep the attention off his personal life. It seemed the more of recluse he was, the more mysterious and interesting he became to those around him.

Already, he’d only been there a few days, and the questions had started. He’d been asked twice by a couple of his superiors why he lived off base if he was single. “Why fight the traffic every morning when you could just be here already?”

Another one of the single DIs had questioned if there were other motives. “Is it so the chicks here don’t see who you take home every night?” The DI had laughed when he’d also asked, “You don’t want them comparing notes?”

This morning, he was meeting with the previous Gunnery Sergeant in charge of the platoons and lower ranking DIs that Brandon would now be in charge of. He wanted to touch base with Brandon and show him around the building he’d be calling home for the better part of his weekdays.

“It’s been under construction for some time,” First Sergeant Carter said. “When it’s all over, there’ll be a new building over there with a bridge that connects to this one and an underground tunnel that will connect both buildings as well.” He pointed at the area in question as they walked around some of the construction work just outside the building they were headed into. “In the meantime, it’s been a pain in the ass. Make sure you save anything you’re working on often because even though they’re supposed to tell us when they’ll be shutting off the electricity for a few minutes, they don’t always do. Some of us have learned the hard way that we should’ve backed up our shit more often.”

Carter shook his head as he walked on before continuing. “Some of the engineers have set up camp inside the building. Letting them borrow a couple of offices and conference rooms in the building took up less room than bringing in a temp bungalow for them.” He looked back at Brandon. “Get used to seeing civilians in civilian clothing coming in and out of here.” The sergeant turned back to where they were headed but continued talking. “It’s usually during the week, but they’re all on strict orders to wear their photo ID badges at all times. So if you see anyone in here without one, feel free to question him. In fact,” he glanced back at him very seriously, “you’re supposed to. Civilians without photo ID are not allowed in this building at all. Those photo IDs make them the only exception.”

Brandon nodded, following the sergeant into an elevator as he continued to talk. They got off on the second floor, and Brandon followed him once again through the long hallway. A couple of plain clothes men walked out of one of the doors, and Brandon took note of how the sergeant scrutinized them but kept walking as they both were wearing large photo IDs around their necks. Brandon took in what the IDs were supposed to look like for future reference. The door to the ladies’ room next to the room the other men had walked out of opened, and a woman also dressed in a plain clothes skirt suit walked out. The clinking of her shoes that echoed through the stark hallway as she walked caught Brandon’s attention. Not often did you hear that on the base. He glanced down to take a look and saw the high-heeled shoes she wore.

The shoes had obviously caught the attention of the sergeant too because he actually stopped and looked her up and down then focused on her ID badge for a moment. Brandon stopped also and waited for the sergeant to proceed. That’s when he recognized her. She slowed, staring at the sergeant a bit perplexed. It was the princess from the airport in D.C. Her long hair was up in a twist today, and she wore glasses now, but there was no mistaking those eyes and those lips. What the hell?

Glancing down at her badge, he read her name: Regina Brady. Below it was the name of the engineering firm she was with, her title, the title of her project, and some numbers.

Apparently satisfied, the sergeant nodded at her and started walking again just as Brandon and Regina’s eyes met. He’d been wearing his fatigues at the airport as well, so he figured if he recognized her so easily, even as different as she looked now, she’d easily recognize him too. Her eyes confirmed he was right as they brightened and she smiled. Brandon held her gaze for a moment, his deadpan expression unfazed, before turning away and walking off without a word.

When they were a bit further, the sergeant turned back to him again. “She must be new. I haven’t seen her before.”

Without comment, Brandon walked into the room where his desk awaited. There were two other desks there, also occupied by two other sergeants who quickly stood as Brandon and the sergeant walked in and saluted them. The sergeant introduced them as Staff Sergeant Rodriguez and Sergeant Evans. Evans was obviously younger than Brandon, but Rodriguez appeared to be the same age as he was. Brandon, like any other soldier, immediately took note that he outranked them both.