Joe Beard sat at Gularte’s kitchen/dining room/living room table, its top cleared and cleaned off as I’d never seen it before. He sat behind a gray plastic box that looked like a small suitcase except for its sharp edges and pointed corners. Joe looked across the top of the foot-thick box, his glasses having slid down to the bottom of his nose as he was farsighted to a nearly extreme degree. How he’d gotten into any Marine Officer program I’d remained surprised at but never mentioned. Since discovering that he was secretly working for the San Onofre gang, as I mentally called them, helped explain just how he might have gotten into the Corps. His physical state was also always in question, as he could barely walk, much less run, on legs that seemed made of half-hardened noodles. No OCS program or Basic School would ever pass him through. I realized, in looking at him closer, that no OCS or Basic School ever had.

“What’s that?” I asked, my curiosity piqued after the box made some strange electronic noises. I walked to Joe’s side and peered down. A keyboard was hinged to the bottom edge of the box and a small television screen was mostly covered in tiny letters and numbers.

Don's Miss any Updates or New Chapters

Join our mailing list to receive the latest news and updates from our team.

You have Successfully Subscribed!

Shares
Share This