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Eli wiped grease from his hands and stood straight. “Yes, sir.”
Whitaker’s gaze flicked to Eli’s face, then away. “No telling when you might be needed.”
Leon muttered, too low for the captain to hear, “Been saying that since September.”
Whitaker didn’t leave right away. He stood there a moment longer, the way men do when they have something unpleasant in their pocket and can’t decide whether to toss it or show it.
Then he said, “General’s moving fast. He wants no surprises.”
Eli kept his expression neutral. “Understood.”
Whitaker’s mouth tightened. “There’s…concern. About…optics.”
“Optics,” Cal repeated, not quiet enough. His voice was sharp, like a wrench slipping.
Whitaker ignored him. “There are politicians. Reporters. Folks back home. The General doesn’t want headlines he can’t control.”
Ray’s eyes narrowed. “Headlines about what, sir?”
Whitaker exhaled, annoyed at being forced to speak plain. “About a Negro armored unit under his command,” he said. “About casualties. About…reactions.”
Eli felt something hot spark in his ribs—anger, yes, but also a bitter laugh that never reached his mouth.
“So we can die,” Leon said, “just not where folks might notice.”
Whitaker’s face flushed. “Watch your tone.”
Eli held up a hand, stopping Leon before the words became a court-martial.
Captain Whitaker leaned in slightly and lowered his voice, as if the air itself might report him.
“Between you and me,” he said, “the General’s not afraid you’ll fail. He’s afraid you won’t.”
Eli stared at him. “Sir?”
Whitaker looked away toward the distant hills, where smoke rose like a bruise on the horizon. “If you perform well,” he said, almost grudging, “people will ask why you weren’t here sooner. If you perform poorly, people will say that’s why you shouldn’t have been here at all. Either way, it’s a mess. The General hates mess.”
Then he turned and walked away, boots sinking into mud as if the earth wanted to swallow the conversation.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Finally, Cal said, “So we’re a problem.”
Leon kicked a clod of frozen dirt. “Been a problem since we were born, I guess.”
Ray watched Whitaker’s retreating back. “If the General’s afraid,” he said quietly, “it ain’t because we’re dangerous. It’s because the truth is.”