The Severance by Elliott Sawyer

never end up broke.
    “Well, you know, if you ever need legal representation, you should give me a call,” Jake said. McBride laughed heartily. “Tell you what. If I do end up in some cell in the Congo, I’ll give you a call. Assuming I get a call,” McBride said.
    Most of the other guys in the platoon would not be as lucky as Jake and McBride. They didn’t have acceptance letters from the University of Virginia or six-figure mercenary contracts waiting for them. Medals or no medals, the Army had used them up and was going to spit them out. They all knew their fates and, for the most part, were willing to deal with the consequences. And they would at least land on their feet when they got back. Only a few of them actually knew the details about The Severance package, but they were all smart enough not to ask questions. Only Sergeant Olsen was kept out of the circle.
    The two men sat quietly in the gazebo, watching the platoon at play. Finally, McBride commented, “Sir, we need our exit from theater to be graceful. We don’t want anything messing up what we have going.”
    “I’m not going to mess up anything. Everything is under control,” Jake said.
    “If you say so, Sir. Wouldn’t want to see you divorced.”
    “Didn’t know you cared, Sergeant.”
    “You don’t want to be like me. I’m 28, I look 50, I live in a rat-hole apartment, and see my kid on Tuesdays and alternating weekends,” McBride said.
    The thought of losing Amy and having a son who despised him made Jake shudder. He didn’t know if he could survive the loss of his family.
    “You know, you’ve never told me what you did to get in trouble. Why you’re leaving the Army, I mean,” McBride said.
    “You’re right, I didn’t,” Jake said.
    “Well, if you ever want—”
    “Drop it,” Jake said.
    McBride held up his hand in a dismissive gesture. The captain’s past mistakes were off limits for discussion, but that didn’t stop McBride from asking about them from time to time.
    The battalion commander appeared in their midst. LTC Miller had come personally to congratulate the platoon on its awards and upcoming redeployment and apologize that he would not be able to attend the ceremony at Bagram. He thanked them for their service and dedication to the mission. The boys nodded as the commander spoke and sounded off with a rousing “hooah” at the customary points, as they’d been routinely called on to placate him. Hours before, this man who stood before them had decided that none of them were worth keeping around after the deployment. He’d reneged on his deal, but was insensitive enough to come congratulate them in person. Jake wanted to sock him.
    All told, the commander stayed six minutes before he left for more pressing matters.
    “Colonel Miller is all class, isn’t he?” McBride said quietly. But Jake’s mood did not improve.
    “We’re getting valor awards and express tickets home. What more could you ask for?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his tone.
    “Come on, Sir. If we weren’t the big feature on the Predator Porn feed, we’d still be in the tents rotting. Colonel Miller had nothing to do with this,” McBride said.
    “You know, I heard that other battalion commanders are going to try to put together platoons like ours,” Jake said, as he kicked his legs out and stretched.
    “This would never work twice,” McBride said, putting his cigarette butt in the soda can and lighting up another.
    The other men in the platoon had more choice words about the battalion commander. Phrases like “backstabber” and “rat fuck” were commonly thrown around when referring to the man who had fed them into the meat grinder. Several of the men had sworn vengeance after being so badly betrayed.
    “Benakowsky, you ever going to get a book or what?” Sergeant Olsen asked, scowling, as Parsons swept up the four playing cards that had been trampled in the dirt when LTC Miller arrived. Spades play had