Free Model Soldier by Cat Johnson

expressions.”
    And that suggestion led to an even more comical expression of horror clearly written across Hawk’s face when he realized, happy about it or not, this photo shoot, and this ad campaign starring him, was going to happen and there was nothing he could do about it.
    Now it was Emily’s turn to smile.

    The hellish part of a day he’d rather forget about finally done, Hawk headed for his bunk, only to be waylaid by Wally, who met him at the door of their barracks.
    “Hey, Hawk. We’re heading out to get a few beers. We figure we better get it while we still can since there’ll be no drinking or anything else fun where we’re going. Wanna come?”
    He could sure as hell use a beer about now, after what he’d just been through, but he couldn’t go out on a bender and get drunk tonight. He had to get up early in the morning and meet with the cute and curvy but dim-headed blonde and her smart-ass Rastafarian photographer again. Tomorrow they had to scout locations for exterior action shots so they could shoot when the light was better.
    Scouting locations and worrying about the light . Great, now he was starting to think like a frigging model.
    “Where the hell have you been for the past couple of hours, anyway?” Wally asked, frowning as if he’d just noticed Hawk’s extended and unexplained absence.
    Hawk saw Pettit enter the hall, hear Wally’s question, and freeze.
    “Special assignment,” Hawk growled, shooting a quick look at Pettit.
    Hopefully the threats he levied against him in the captain’s office that afternoon would keep Pettit’s mouth shut and it would stay a “special assignment” as far as the rest of the squad was concerned.
    He leveled Pettit one more warning glance as the man, who couldn’t comprehend why Hawk was so miserable about the whole modeling thing, rolled his eyes at him.
    “Yeah, but what kind of special assignment?” Wally continued relentlessly.
    Hawk grunted, “The classified kind.”
    Clearly unhappy, Wally scowled. “Fine, whatever. We’re leaving in thirty if you decide you wanna come.”
    Wally disappeared into his room and Pettit slunk closer. Lowering his voice, he began, “I don’t understand why you…”
    Hawk cut him off. “My assignment, Pettit. My choice.”
    Pettit sighed. “Fine, but if you think your face can be featured in every Army ad worldwide and no one will notice, you’re crazy.”
    “And if you think we’re going to see any advertising in those mountains in Afghanistan, you’re crazy. We’ll be long gone by the time those ads hit, and a year from now or more, when we finally do come home, they’ll have moved on to some other poster boy. Believe me.”
    Shaking his head, Pettit turned back to his room, but not before saying, “For your sake, Hawk, I hope you’re right.”
    Oh, Hawk would make sure he was right. He’d be so unpleasant to work with, Goldilocks would ensure he never worked on another assignment with her again. She’d go running looking for a new model. Dalton would just have to find her a new sucker for this job.
    Shame too, she was a looker, if you liked the young and starry-eyed type. Hawk tended to go for the more experienced women himself. He had neither the time nor the patience for young innocent types like the bubbly blonde from today who had wanted him to roll up the sleeves of his camo “outfit”.
    Shaking his head with a laugh at that memory, he pivoted toward his own room to get his beauty sleep and curse Dalton for the thousandth time that day.
    Apparently modeling was harder work than it seemed because sleep found Hawk the moment his head hit his lumpy pillow.
    Quite simply, he was done in. Running through the Alps for two straight days had taken its toll on his body, and his “special assignment” had done a real number on his brain, as well. Consequently Hawk, who usually slept like a rock, dreamed. Not nice normal nightmares like forgetting to get dressed and attending a Promotions Board