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Broken World Part 1
1
Lieutenant Sarah Mitchell stepped off the C-130 Transport Plane and walked slowly down the tarmac. She stood at five feet six inches and she weighed one hundred twenty-eight pounds. The twenty-nine-year-old army lieutenant had red hair and blue eyes. She wore a camouflage army uniform with a pale green duffle bag on her back. The rest of her military unit stepped off the transport plane and some of them ran to their loved ones. Sarah looked through the crowd of civilians, searching for her husband, David.
Captain Jacob Turner, her unit commander, stepped up behind Sarah and placed his right hand on her shoulder. She jumped a little and looked back at him. He stood at six feet one inch and he weighed one hundred ninety-eight pounds. The thirty-six-year-old army captain had graying brown hair and hazel eyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you,” said Captain Turner.
“It’s okay. I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings. I was searching for David.”
“He’s not here?” wondered Captain Turner.
“I don’t see him,” she looked through the crowd once more, but she didn’t find him.
“My wife and I can give you a ride home,” he offered while they walked through the crowd of civilians.
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Ask you to do what?” Ethel Turner leaped into Captain Turner’s arms and kissed him passionately.
“Her husband isn’t here to pick her up,” Captain Turner returned her kiss and he set wife back down on the tarmac.
“David isn’t here? How can he not be here to pick you up?” asked Ethel. She stood at five feet nine inches and she weighed one hundred thirty-six pounds. The thirty-seven-year-old Emergency Department nurse for the West Midland Memorial Hospital had blonde hair and blue eyes. She wore red hospital scrubs with pink and white tennis shoes and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
“I don’t know. What is today?” asked Sarah.
“Huh, it’s Wednesday,” replied Ethel as the three of them walked into the Midland International Airport.
“He’s normally in court on Wednesday. Maybe, he couldn’t get out of court,” suggested Sarah.
“You don’t think DA Smith would let him miss court to pick up his wife who just returned from Afghanistan?” questioned Ethel.
“DA Smith doesn’t let anything come between him and his perfect prosecution percentage,” Sarah claimed while they walked through the airport and out the main entrance.
“Well, that settles it then,” said Ethel.
“Settles what?” asked Sarah.
“You’re coming home with us,” answered Ethel.
“No, I can take an Uber home.”
“No, you’re not,” Ethel hooked her left arm through Sarah’s right arm while Captain Turner grabbed her duffle bag from her back. “I insist. You’re coming home with us,” she pulled her towards her SUV.
Sarah turned and looked at her captain, who just shrugged his shoulders. “There’s no fighting Ethel when she’ made up her mind,” laughed Captain Turner.
2
David Mitchell quick-stepped up the concrete stairs to the glass double door to the Adams Parish Courthouse. In the glare of the glass doors, he noticed a woman walking up behind him, so he opened the door stepped to the side so she could enter before him. She mumbled something that resembled a “thank you,” and he laughed to himself. He stepped into the crowded door and he slid to his right. The small corridor was divided into two lines. The line on the left was for the people who had been called to court, either as a witness or criminal, and it made slowly through the metal detector. The lawyers, police officers and other members of the court could bypass the left line by taking the right to avoid the metal detector. Next the right line was a concession stand that sold anything from newspapers to warm sandwiches. He motioned to the concession stand owner as he stepped up to the counter.
“I’ll take a tuna sandwich, coke and a diet coke,” requested David. He stood at six feet three inches and he weighed two hundred twenty-two pounds. The thirty-three-year-old prosecuting attorney for the District Attorney Office had black hair and green eyes. He wore a navy-blue suit, white shirt and a red tie.
“I thought you didn’t eat tuna, Mr. Mitchell,” said the concession stand owner.
“Not for me,” David handed him his credit card for the food and drinks.
“I don’t think drinking a coke and a diet coke will help you keep your fighting weight,” the concession stand owner slipped the card through the credit card scanner and handed it back to David.
“I guess it’s a good thing I am not a fighter then, huh?” laughed David.
David grabbed the plastic bag with the items in it and he walked...
Lieutenant Sarah Mitchell stepped off the C-130 Transport Plane and walked slowly down the tarmac. She stood at five feet six inches and she weighed one hundred twenty-eight pounds. The twenty-nine-year-old army lieutenant had red hair and blue eyes. She wore a camouflage army uniform with a pale green duffle bag on her back. The rest of her military unit stepped off the transport plane and some of them ran to their loved ones. Sarah looked through the crowd of civilians, searching for her husband, David.
Captain Jacob Turner, her unit commander, stepped up behind Sarah and placed his right hand on her shoulder. She jumped a little and looked back at him. He stood at six feet one inch and he weighed one hundred ninety-eight pounds. The thirty-six-year-old army captain had graying brown hair and hazel eyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you,” said Captain Turner.
“It’s okay. I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings. I was searching for David.”
“He’s not here?” wondered Captain Turner.
“I don’t see him,” she looked through the crowd once more, but she didn’t find him.
“My wife and I can give you a ride home,” he offered while they walked through the crowd of civilians.
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Ask you to do what?” Ethel Turner leaped into Captain Turner’s arms and kissed him passionately.
“Her husband isn’t here to pick her up,” Captain Turner returned her kiss and he set wife back down on the tarmac.
“David isn’t here? How can he not be here to pick you up?” asked Ethel. She stood at five feet nine inches and she weighed one hundred thirty-six pounds. The thirty-seven-year-old Emergency Department nurse for the West Midland Memorial Hospital had blonde hair and blue eyes. She wore red hospital scrubs with pink and white tennis shoes and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
“I don’t know. What is today?” asked Sarah.
“Huh, it’s Wednesday,” replied Ethel as the three of them walked into the Midland International Airport.
“He’s normally in court on Wednesday. Maybe, he couldn’t get out of court,” suggested Sarah.
“You don’t think DA Smith would let him miss court to pick up his wife who just returned from Afghanistan?” questioned Ethel.
“DA Smith doesn’t let anything come between him and his perfect prosecution percentage,” Sarah claimed while they walked through the airport and out the main entrance.
“Well, that settles it then,” said Ethel.
“Settles what?” asked Sarah.
“You’re coming home with us,” answered Ethel.
“No, I can take an Uber home.”
“No, you’re not,” Ethel hooked her left arm through Sarah’s right arm while Captain Turner grabbed her duffle bag from her back. “I insist. You’re coming home with us,” she pulled her towards her SUV.
Sarah turned and looked at her captain, who just shrugged his shoulders. “There’s no fighting Ethel when she’ made up her mind,” laughed Captain Turner.
2
David Mitchell quick-stepped up the concrete stairs to the glass double door to the Adams Parish Courthouse. In the glare of the glass doors, he noticed a woman walking up behind him, so he opened the door stepped to the side so she could enter before him. She mumbled something that resembled a “thank you,” and he laughed to himself. He stepped into the crowded door and he slid to his right. The small corridor was divided into two lines. The line on the left was for the people who had been called to court, either as a witness or criminal, and it made slowly through the metal detector. The lawyers, police officers and other members of the court could bypass the left line by taking the right to avoid the metal detector. Next the right line was a concession stand that sold anything from newspapers to warm sandwiches. He motioned to the concession stand owner as he stepped up to the counter.
“I’ll take a tuna sandwich, coke and a diet coke,” requested David. He stood at six feet three inches and he weighed two hundred twenty-two pounds. The thirty-three-year-old prosecuting attorney for the District Attorney Office had black hair and green eyes. He wore a navy-blue suit, white shirt and a red tie.
“I thought you didn’t eat tuna, Mr. Mitchell,” said the concession stand owner.
“Not for me,” David handed him his credit card for the food and drinks.
“I don’t think drinking a coke and a diet coke will help you keep your fighting weight,” the concession stand owner slipped the card through the credit card scanner and handed it back to David.
“I guess it’s a good thing I am not a fighter then, huh?” laughed David.
David grabbed the plastic bag with the items in it and he walked...
