A Second Chance
Copyright© 2013 by Old Man with a Pen
Epilogue
The Assistant Director of the Second Chance Unit of the Bureau of Reclamation, a branch of Nine Lives Institute, a governmental front for a black ops section, was sitting at his desk. The phone rang.
"Shit. Hello."
"Private Austin? Let me check."
He hung up the phone. Picked it up and dialed.
"Susie?"
"ADSC here."
"The file on Austin?"
"Bring it in ... and your pad"
"Thank you."
He picked up the phone again and dialed, "Smythe?"
"What the fuck happened?"
"Drafted?!?"
"How the fuck did he get drafted?"
"1-A"
"Not in school?"
"Fuck ... there goes the budget."
"Let me see what I can do to fix this cluster fuck."
He hung up and immediately dialed again. "Parker?"
"ADSC."
"Is Austin available?"
"Really?"
"Where was he shot?"
"No injuries to the brain?"
"He's cognitive then?"
"Hook him up, please."
There was a pause as Parker did his thing. When science is unexplainable it's magic. Parker did his magic.
"Colonel Jacobin."
"What happened, Colonel?"
"I know you were drafted, You were supposed to be in school."