Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Isaiah’s mouth moved like he was going to protest, but he took a deep breath instead. “Thanks. I better get the girls now.”
He sounded skeptical, but there wasn’t time to convince him. They’d arrived at the preschool so Mark waited in the car with Liam while Isaiah ran in. While he was in there, Mark made some calls, set up meetings for that afternoon to deal with his leave questions. And he’d need to get permission to reside off base. Bunch of administrative hoops to jump through, none of which he was looking forward to.
Back at the house, the girls were chattering about school while Isaiah made lunch and Mark changed into a fresh uniform for going to base.
“I’ll help tonight,” Mark promised on his way out.
“Yeah?” Isaiah raised an eyebrow. “You gonna reheat tonight’s casserole or should I ready Diaper Changing 101 for you?”
“Both.” Mark meant what he’d said in the car. He was going to start doing his part.
Once at base, his attention shifted from Isaiah to all the administrative headaches waiting for him. His immediate command was still deployed, but the complicated command structure of his team and the larger platoon it was part of meant that there were still plenty of paper pushers and higher ups able to send him from one place to another doing the paperwork. He’d never been one for taking much leave, so he had plenty accrued, but it was more a question of whether they’d approve him taking it all at once like this. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if they said they needed to ship him back to his team ASAP.
“Wizard!” called Apollo Flores, a lieutenant Mark knew in passing, the husband of Isaiah’s friend Dylan. He was accompanied by two other people, one of whom was the senior chief Mark had been waiting to see about his leave request. “Just the guy we were looking for.”
“Sir.” Mark nodded at each in turn.
“I got your voice mail about meeting about leave, but before I could get approval on your paperwork, Lieutenant Flores and Lieutenant Ramsey called with a proposition.”
“We’ve talked to your LT before about getting you for a rotation as a SEAL instructor for BUD/S, but he’s always been reluctant to part with you. Said you weren’t interested.” Lieutenant Ramsey was a tall woman with short dark hair and a long nose.
“I wasn’t.” This had come up a few times since Mark made chief—the navy liked the older SEALs to take rotations training the new guys. He’d been hit up for a stint out at Fort Bragg where SEAL medics went for twenty-six-week-long SOCM training sessions after completing SEAL training at Coronado. In Mark’s opinion the combat medic course was far more challenging than even Hell Week at BUD/S. So far he’d avoided the training detail by getting the LT to say that he was mission critical.
“We’ve got a new class of BUD/S starting next month, and we’ve had an instructor just pull out on medical leave. Given your family situation, we thought you might be interested.” Flores nodded encouragingly at him, and Mark had a strong feeling that his husband had played a role in getting his sympathies involved here. They’d both been at the funeral.
“I might be.” Things had changed now, and Mark had to figure out a way to stay local for the kids, at least short-term.
“So you could take only a couple weeks of leave, join us for instructor training, then start with the instructor position and stick with them for a few months. Give you time to sort out your family stuff before you rejoin your team.” Ramsey had a commanding voice, one that made Mark stand up a little straighter.
“That’s going to be a lot easier to get approved than a couple months’ leave,” the senior chief added. “Your LT’s pushing hard to get you back, but he understands your situation, and that we have to fill the instructor slot.”
“We’d be honored to have you join the training staff,” Lieutenant Ramsey continued. “I’ve assembled a first-rate team for this class and we’ve got several hospital corpsmen who’re hoping to go to SOCM after they get their tridents. You’d be an excellent mentor.”
Mark wasn’t so sure, but given the alternative of heading back on deployment with everything with the kids still up in the air, he wasn’t going to say no. “I can try.”
“Good.” She nodded at him. “And you have the sympathies of the whole base, Chief Whitley. You let me know if there’s anything we can help you arrange. We’re pleased to have you on board.”
“We’ll get right on your paperwork.” Obvious relief tinged the senior chief’s voice. He was a good guy and probably had been fretting about denying Mark’s request for extended leave. If this was the best compromise Mark could get, he’d take it.