Chapter 10 - The Match That Should Not Have Existed
The original combatives roster was printed at 1542.
My opponent had been Staff Sergeant Devin Cole, an Army medic with eight years of grappling experience.
Briggs had been paired with Price.
At 1816, somebody changed the digital roster.
Cole moved to Price.
Briggs moved to me.
No instructor had requested it.
No evaluator had approved it.
And the change had been made using Lieutenant Palmer's account.
When Major Shaw told me that, I stopped speaking for several seconds.
"Palmer changed it?"
"He says he didn't."
"Was he logged in?"
"His account was."
"From where?"
"Administrative terminal three."
"Where is that?"
"Inside the instructor workroom."
"Who had access?"
Shaw's expression tightened.
"Cadre."
"Only cadre?"
"And trainees assigned cleanup duty."
I knew the answer before I asked.
"Was Briggs on cleanup?"
"Yes."
"Was Reed?"
"No."
"Any camera?"
"Hallway."
"Does it show Briggs entering?"
"Yes."
The pieces were finally becoming less subtle.
"Then remove him."
Shaw looked at me.
"That decision is being made right now."
"The match is tomorrow."
"I know."
"He threatened to put me on a stretcher."
"I know."
"He manipulated the roster."
"We have evidence he entered the room."
"And the account was used while he was there."
"Yes."
"What else do they need?"
For the first time, frustration broke through Shaw's composure.
"They need enough that he cannot walk into an appeal and say the entire process was built on assumption."
I stared at her.
"So I train beside him until the paperwork feels comfortable?"
"No."
She stepped closer.
"You do exactly what I tell you until I can put something in writing that survives contact with every person who will challenge it."
The answer was not satisfying.
It was responsible.
I hated that both could be true.
"Understood."
She nodded.
"Go get sleep."
I did not sleep much.
At 0430, my phone buzzed.
A message from Torres.
YOU AWAKE?
I answered.
YES.
Her reply came immediately.
BRIGGS IS STILL ON THE ROSTER.
I sat up.
A second message appeared.
PALMER OVERRULED THE CHANGE BACK PENDING REVIEW.
I read it twice.
Then a third message.
HE SAYS CHANGING IT NOW WOULD LOOK LIKE FAVORITISM.
I got dressed without answering.
At 0530, I was standing outside the main gym when Hayes found me.
He looked as tired as I felt.
"You saw the roster."
"Yes."
"You are not required to accept that pairing."
"Meaning?"
"You can request reassignment for safety."
"And what goes in the record?"
"That you requested reassignment."
"Reason?"
"Safety concern."
I looked through the glass doors.
Inside, trainees were setting up mats and barriers.
"And Briggs gets to say I backed out."
"Who cares what Briggs says?"
I turned toward him.
"Half the people in this course apparently."
Hayes did not answer.
"If the cadre believes the match is unsafe, cancel it," I said.
"If the cadre believes I cannot participate, remove me."
"But I am not volunteering to become the evidence for his story."
Hayes rubbed one hand over his face.
"Mitchell, pride is not a safety plan."
"This isn't pride."
"Then what is it?"
"Control."
He frowned.
"Explain."
"He has spent four days deciding the conditions."
I pointed toward the gym.
"He chose the comments."
"He chose when to provoke."
"He chose when to lie."
"He tried to choose the witnesses."
"He changed the roster."
"If I walk away because he arranged the match, he still chose the ending."
Hayes stared at me.
"And if he hurts you?"
"Then cadre failed long before I did."
The words landed harder than I intended.
Hayes' jaw tightened.
I did not apologize.
After a moment, he nodded once.
"Fair."
Then he pointed at me.
"But hear me."
"I hear you."
"The first sign he violates control standards, I stop it."
"Good."
"You do not retaliate."
"I won't."
"You do not try to teach him a lesson."
"I won't."
"You defend, control, and disengage when ordered."
"Yes."
He studied me.
"You sound very confident."
"I'm confident in what I can control."
"And what can't you control?"
I looked toward the parking area where buses were beginning to arrive.
"Everybody else."
By 0800, the training complex had transformed.
Temporary bleachers surrounded the main demonstration ring.
Unit banners hung from railings.
Observers moved between stations carrying tablets and folders.
Senior officers occupied a reserved section in front.
Hundreds of soldiers, sailors, Marines, and airmen circulated through the event.
Phones appeared everywhere.
The combatives block was scheduled for 1300.
That gave Briggs five more hours to perform.
He used every one of them.
At a strength station, he loudly asked whether my score had been "corrected again."
At a leadership lane, he told another trainee not to stand too close to me unless he wanted to become part of my next report.
During lunch, he walked past my table and said, "Big audience today."
Each time, I ignored him.
Each time, he pushed a little harder.
By noon, the change was obvious.
He was not enjoying himself anymore.
He was angry that I still had not reacted.
The public event gave Briggs more ways to perform and fewer places to hide.
At the first demonstration station, he volunteered to go first.
At the second, he corrected another trainee loudly enough for the observers to hear.
At the third, he introduced himself to a visiting colonel who had not asked his name.
Everything about him said audience.
I stayed focused on my stations.
That irritated him.
During a break, he stopped three feet away from me while an observer group passed.
"Nervous?"
"No."
"Big day."
"It's training."
"For some of us."
He looked toward the senior officers.
"For some people, it's an audition."
"Then I hope you memorized your lines."
His expression tightened.
He moved closer.
"You really think you're funny."
"No."
"Everybody else does."
"That's your problem, not mine."
Hayes appeared before Briggs could answer.
"Separate."
We moved in opposite directions.
Ten minutes later, Hayes found me again.
"You need to stop giving him lines."
"He walked up to me."
"I know."
"So tell him to stop."
"I did."
"Then why am I the one getting the advice?"
Hayes' face tightened.
"Because I think you'll listen."
That answer made me angrier than it should have.
"That's how the reasonable person always gets more work."
He stared at me.
"You're not wrong."
I had expected an argument.
The agreement took the air out of mine.
Hayes continued.
"I'm not asking you to carry his responsibility."
"I'm asking you not to hand him a match while he's standing in gasoline."
I looked toward Briggs across the field.
"You think he's that close?"
"Closer than he knows."
That should have made me cautious.
It did.
It also made me watch him more carefully.
At 1145, I saw Briggs enter the instructor workroom carrying a trash bag.
Cleanup duty.
Nothing suspicious by itself.
He came out four minutes later without the bag.
Again, nothing by itself.
At 1205, the printed demonstration programs began appearing.
At 1210, people started asking me about the featured challenge.
I had no idea what they meant.
At 1215, I found the altered roster.
At 1220, Torres found me with news about Reed.
At 1220, Torres found me behind the staging tent.
"Reed wants to talk."
"We're not allowed one-on-one contact."
"Hayes approved it."
That got my attention.
"Where?"
"Medical trailer. Shaw's there."
We went immediately.
Reed sat on a folding chair with a small bandage above his eyebrow.
Major Shaw stood near the door.
Hayes was beside her.
Reed looked worse than he had the day before.
But his eyes were steadier.
"I'm sorry," he said as soon as I entered.
I sat across from him.
"For what?"
"All of it."
"Be specific."
He swallowed.
"The statement."
"The notebook."
"The photo."
Torres went still.
"You leaked the evidence photo?"
Reed nodded.
"Briggs told me to take it when Palmer stepped out."
"Why?" I asked.
"He said it would make people think you planted the card."
"Did you plant the draft under my locker?"
"No."
"Did you alter my score?"
"No."
"Did you change the match roster?"
"No."
He rubbed both hands together.
"But I know how he got Palmer's password."
Hayes leaned forward.
"Tell her what you told us."
Reed looked at me.
"Briggs watched Palmer type it three days ago."
"He memorized it?"
"He said he did."
"Did he tell you he changed the roster?"
Reed hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Last night."
My pulse thudded.
"Exact words."
"He said, 'Tomorrow she finally gets what she's been begging for.'"
"Anything else?"
Reed closed his eyes for a second.
"He said Palmer's password was the best thing the lieutenant ever gave him."
Shaw looked at Hayes.
"That's enough."
Hayes nodded.
He reached for his phone.
Then the door opened.
Lieutenant Palmer stepped inside.
His face was pale.
"We have a problem."
Shaw turned.
"What?"
"Briggs is gone."
"Gone where?"
"He left staging ten minutes ago."
"Find him."
Palmer shook his head.
"That's not the problem."
He held up a printed sheet.
"The demonstration order was just distributed to the observers."
He handed it to Shaw.
She read it.
Then looked at me.
My name was already printed beside Briggs' in the featured match.
The program had gone to more than five hundred people.
And across the bottom, someone had added a line that did not exist in the official event plan.
FEATURED CHALLENGE: ARMY POWER VS. NAVY TECHNIQUE.
Briggs had not just changed the roster.
May you like
He had turned the match into a public spectacle before command could stop him.
And when Hayes finally found him, Briggs was already standing in the center of the ring, smiling for a crowd that had no idea the match was never supposed to happen.
