Chapter 25
LOGAN
T he pool area was quiet, and as Logan picked out his cue, he could feel the eyes on him. A lot was riding on this.
On one hand, either way supposedly, the issues between him and Captain Huffman would be squashed after this. Huffman had dug himself a deep enough hole publicly that he wasn't going to be able to come after Logan professionally, despite Logan's missteps.
But there was a lot more riding on these games than that. There was pride. There was the fact that Huffman had repeatedly disrespected his girlfriend.
There was the fact that he'd disrespected his entire unit. Unit pride stood for something.
And of course, that Huffman had disrespected Jess Adams's sister. The squad knew Sabby, and even if Tom Franklin didn't like Sabby's personal style, his respect for Jessica Adams meant that insulting Sabby was insulting Sergeant Adams.
Finally, there was some enlisted versus officer, and active duty versus National Guard pride involved.
Logan felt like he'd just stepped into the center of a bullseye, and everyone had a gun aimed at him. If he didn't deliver right now, there was no way he was going to recover.
"Hollywood."
Logan glanced over, and saw it was Captain King. "Yes, sir?"
"I know we don't talk much," King said quietly, taking out a cue and measuring its weight in his hand. "Sort of the nature of being the XO. I'm seen, rarely heard. Especially in a unit like Charlie Company since we're so decentralized."
Logan had to admit, he'd exchanged less than a dozen words with Captain King to that point. "True."
"You're thinking about too many things," King whispered, putting a cue back and choosing another.
"Let me tell you something that's true in sports, and true in combat when you get to it.
Divide yourself. Take all the parts of you that are thinking about your squad, your girlfriend, even that jackass who's a disgrace to his rank, and put it aside for the next few minutes.
You've got only one thing to think about right now. Your next shot."
Logan took a deep breath, and nodded.
"Hey, you gonna play?" Huffman called. "I'm getting thirsty for a beer."
King waved him off, and handed the cue in his hand to Logan. "Here. The stick doesn't really matter. It's the man behind the trigger that counts."
Logan turned, and came over, stretching his arms behind his back. "Ready. Who goes first?"
"Coin flip," Colonel Mercury offered, pulling a quarter out of his pocket. "Captain Huffman, rank does have its privileges. Call it in the air."
Logan lost the toss, and had to sit as the balls were racked. Huffman lined up his shot and broke, sinking the four ball in the process. "Nice shot."
"I've played a game or two," Huffman replied cockily before lining up on the one ball.
Logan had to admit, playing nine ball was different from the regular pool he'd played before.
Playing stripes and solids by rec room rules was simple, and it was common to see players just smack the shit out of the nearest stripe or solid simply to create chaos and hope something could happen.
That was impossible with nine ball, where balls had to at least be touched in ascending order if not potted that way.
It was an adjustment, and Logan found himself pinned behind the seven and eight while needing to hit the four on his first opportunity to shoot.
Not seeing anything, Logan called for a safe and tried a two bumper shot, barely hitting the four, but letting him understand more about the table and the game itself.
Huffman took advantage however, and before Logan knew it he was down two racks to none. The squad was giving him nervous looks as Huffman lined up to break again, and Sergeant Adams came over. "Hey... how's it looking?"
"Don't worry," Logan whispered back confidently as he chalked the tip of his cue. "Next chance I get, I've got him. I know the table."
Adams nodded and walked away. Dimly out of the corner of his eye he could see her talk to Sabby, but he put that out of his mind as Huffman broke, scattering balls everywhere but sinking nothing.
"Ain't no thing." Huffman stepped back, smirking cockily. "Only need one more rack."
Logan approached the table, evaluating it carefully. Seeing his shot, he pointed. "One ball, upper left pocket."
Lining up the shot, he tapped the cue ball, applying a bit of back spin. The ball rolled, striking the one and coming to a good position on the two as the one dropped neatly into the called pocket. Logan knew it, he was in the groove.
"Two, side."
"Three, lower right."
The third ball dropped in, and Logan chalked his cue. As he did, he started talking. "You know, I think there's something to be said about respecting others," he said as he lined up his shot.
Logan lined up his shot, knocking the four into the nine and sinking the nine in the process, winning the rack. The match stood two racks to one, and Logan paused while Huffman racked, still looking confident but not quite as arrogant as he'd been a few shots ago.
"People deserve basic dignity," Logan continued as he lined up his break shot. "Even when they're different from what you might expect."
He broke, and in the chaos sunk the eight and four. Huffman sighed. "You got a point?"
"Sure," Logan said before sinking the one. "Respect isn't just about rank. It's about how we treat each other as people."
"Real world ain't that simple, boy," Huffman growled, and Logan shrugged before sinking the two and the three.
"In that you're right. Life is complicated," he replied, lining up his next shot. "But treating others with dignity is pretty straightforward."
Logan sank the five, leaving him with an easy tap in for the six and seven before a long but straight sinking of the nine. As Huffman racked, Logan breathed, focusing on the moment.
"It's those basic principles that help us navigate life," he said as he broke, sinking the seven. "Like how to treat others with respect."
"Something you could learn about." Huffman looked at the table and laughed. "Look at that. All that yapping about respect, and you're pinned again. No way you can make this, and as soon as you miss, I win. By the way, I like my Bud cold and my women respectful."
To the average observer, he was right. Logan was pinned behind the two and the eight, with the four a bit further on. But the prize was right there, the nine ball just on the edge of falling into a side pocket, right behind the one ball. A baby's breath of pressure, and the game would be over.
Logan knew he could play it safe, barely tap the cue ball into the eight. But he didn't want to put the game back into Huffman's hands, and as he considered his options, he knew what he had to do.
"You know, there's something about the rules though.
" Logan walked around the table, evaluating every perspective he could.
"Normally, they're helpful. Treat others with respect.
Call officers sir or ma'am. Tuck in your shirt.
Take the safe shot and play the odds that my opponent's going to mess up their shot. "
Logan took his position, practically pointed away from where he needed the ball to go, and bent over the table, making a bridge with his hand and the four ball.
Huffman, seeing what he was intending, scoffed. "No fucking way."
"Way, Captain. Because sometimes..." Logan drew his cue back and paused, "you break those rules when the situation calls for it."
He stroked his cue forward, striking the ball solidly. With a little bit of forward-right spin, it came off the rail at a wider angle than seemed possible before rolling towards a second rail, striking it and slowing as it approached a third.
The entire crowd could see what Logan intended, and there were murmurs of disbelief and excitement building.
"That's... no way!"
"It's got a chance."
"How the hell?"
The cue ball was barely creeping, and Logan had a heartbeat's worth of doubt that he'd misjudged something. The drag of the surface, the weight of the ball, the absorbency of the rails... something.
But as the cue ball tapped the one, relief flooded through him. The one moved just enough, gently kissing the nine ball and dropping it into the pocket. It was over. Logan had completed the comeback, winning three games in a row.
Silence reigned as all the observers took in the amazing shot Logan had just pulled off, until a certain someone had to be a poor sport.
"This is... bullshit!" Huffman yelled, slamming his cue to the floor where it clattered on the barely there carpet. "What the fuck, are you some kind of pool hustler or something?"
"I didn't propose the game," Logan pointed out as he lay his own cue on the table respectfully. "Come on Captain, let's just end this. Beer for everyone."
"Fuck this!" Huffman exploded before storming away, not stopping until he'd left the alley.
The room was so quiet he could hear the whir of the alley machinery. Logan could see that the National Guard officers who'd gathered to celebrate Huffman's promotion were clearly uncomfortable and embarrassed by Huffman's outburst.
That wouldn't do, so Logan stepped up to Colonel Mercury, offering a hand. "Thank you for the opportunity, sir. And I'm sorry if I ruined your afternoon."
Mercury shook his hand, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but in his dress blues at the moment but also man enough to know that Logan deserved his accolades. "You didn't do a damn thing wrong, son. That was one hell of a shot. I'll deal with Huffman... privately."
"Understood, sir." Logan knew the magnanimous thing to do would be to let the issue go, but at the same time that wasn't possible to him. It was Sabby's right to drop the issue, and so far nobody had checked in with her. "If you don't mind sir, my squad's going to go bowl."
"Then let me cover the beers," Mercury said. "Those were the terms, and Huffman's my responsibility."
"Honestly, sir?" Logan commented, shaking his head. "I was never going to enforce that bit. It wouldn't be professional."
Mercury nodded, clapping him on the shoulder. "You know son, you ever want to have a safer role in the Army, I know that the base commander has an assistant position open. Better hours, good career path."
"And waste a damn fine door kicker like this?" Sergeant Adams asked as she came up, putting an arm over Logan's shoulders. "No thanks, sir. I just spent the past two months getting this kid trained up. Come on, Hollywood."
Logan and the squad left, everyone congratulating him. "Hey Hollywood," Tom Franklin said, grudging respect in his voice, "that was some damn fine shootin'."
"Thanks," Logan replied, hanging back at the counter while the rest of the squad got their shoes and Captain King talked quietly with Colonel Mercury. After a few moments, it was just him and Sabby, who was biting her lip and smiling. "So how're you feeling?"
"You want to know the truth?" Sabby asked, and Logan nodded. "I just watched my boyfriend take down a bully, alpha male the entire room, and then be totally rock god chill about the whole thing. So I'm horny as fuck."
Logan growled lightly in his throat, and reached out. Before Sabby could say anything he'd pulled her slightly across the counter, kissing her. Sabby kissed him back, and he was tempted to ditch Bron's party when someone cleared their throat behind him and he reluctantly let Sabby Go. "Later."
"For sure," she rasped, her voice thick with desire. "Uhm... hi Jess."
"Just for that," Jess said, tugging Logan towards the waiting squad who all looked more than a little amused, "you're paying for the fucking beer."
"Really, Sarge?"
"You want me to just happen to go to the gym on Sunday morning for about four or five hours of watching other people do strongman training while Sabby's not working, or do you want me to sleep in and sit around all day catching up on those YouTube training videos that I keep meaning to watch?"
Logan got the message. "Beer for everyone it is."