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He Flicked Water at the Quiet Contractor, Then Read His Own Handwriting

"Watch the floor, contractor." Vance says it loud enough for the whole duty room, and tips his canteen so cold water whips across the sleeves of the man standing by the window.

Ten years ago Sergeant First Class Ellis was walked off this base with his own name struck through on a red-ink roster sheet, in front of his platoon. The man who signed that sheet is sitting at the olive table right now, sleeves rolled, laughing about the old days. He doesn't recognize the visitor.

Ellis isn't here to argue. He's here to sign.

The whole room had laughed back then. Only one person in that room stopped.

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