Free Carly by Lyn Cote

area of the base. She heard footsteps on the sidewalk behind her but did not turn
     her head.
Alex must be behind me
.
    Unhappily, Carly thought she could predict what would happen at the upcoming meeting. She had heard of Article 15. It was
     what the army used first to discipline soldiers who failed to obey their drill sergeants—without advancing all the way up
     to the military justice system. The injustice of having to report to the company commander and perhaps be threatened with
     an Article 15 punishment galled her.
    It’s not fair. I’ve tried everything I could to fit in and to succeed. What could I have done differently, when it was always
     Alex who started something?
    Frustration burned inside her breast as she approached the company commander’s door. Up three steps, Carly opened the door
     and entered. Alex had caught up with her and went through the door right behind her. The company commander’s secretary greeted
     them and asked them to sit on the black upholstered chairs along the wall in the wonderful air-conditioning until the commander
     could see them.
    Carly kept her eyes straight da>. She didn’t trust herself to look at Alex’s face—no doubt Alex’s sneering face. Certainly
     her self-elected tormentor must be gleeful now. What she had evidently wanted since the very first day was happening: Alex
     had finally gotten Carly into deep trouble.
    The door to the inner office opened. A tall woman wearing the insignia of a captain stared at them. “Gallagher, Carlyle? Reseda,
     Alex?”
    Belatedly Carly jumped to her feet and snapped off a salute to the officer. Beside her, Alex did the same.
    “Inside, please.”
    Carly entered the room, tightening her defenses, prepared to face and survive a humiliating interview.
I will show no emotion. I will not disgrace myself
. The two of them, she and Alex, stood at attention, facing the commander who had taken her seat behind an imposing, absolutely
     neat desk. The first sergeant of their company, a thin, middle-aged woman, also stood beside the commander’s desk.
    “This is an unpleasant task,” began the commander, an attractive woman with red hair pulled back in a tight bun. “You two
     have been under close scrutiny since you arrived at the reception hall. Your drill instructor has discussed both of you with
     the first sergeant repeatedly and a certain disruptive pattern has become evident. Your drill instructor tried to force the
     two of you to make peace by making you battle buddies. This strategy has failed. Both of you have also been punished with
     extra physical training in an attempt to persuade you to cooperate. This, too, has failed.”
    Carly was a bit confused. She had expected to be reprimanded over the fight the day before in the laundry. Learning that her
     drill instructor had been discussing her behavior in the past four weeks was distinctly disturbing. The awful thought that
     she might be facing more than an Article 15 breathed through her like a cold chill. Perhaps she faced military charges or
     being discharged from the service. The thought brought a cold sweat to her brow. She’d survived four grueling weeks of boot
     camp. Would it all be for nothing? The thought made her nauseated.
No!
    “Private Reseda,” the captain said in a stern voice, “for some unknown reason you have chosen to carry on your own private
     war against Private Gallagher. This must end.”
    Carly felt her mouth drop open.
    “But yesterday she jumped me in the laundry!” Alex accused.
    “Quiet!” the first sergeant ordered.
    “Private Reseda, among many incidents,” the commander said, looking down at a list in front of her, “you have spit into Private
     Gallagher’s food. You have tripped her on various occasions. And yesterday you threw her clean clothes to the laundry room
     floor—direct provocation. Do you think we did not see what was going on here?”
    Carly closed her mouth. She tried not to look too happy. Gloating, Nate had