Fire for Effect by Kendall McKenna Page B

twelve months old, a Marine was killed during a successful assault. His identity was released and a story came to light that a professional athlete walked away from a lucrative contract in order to serve his country. He was lauded as a hero—and he was—and his sacrifice was held up as an example to everyone. And then it came to light that his death was needless and senseless. Killed by friendly fire because an officer couldn’t accurately call in an airstrike.”
    Kellan nodded, remembering the anger and a mother’s tears.
    “You remember when the Army supply truck was ambushed during the invasion of Baghdad, I’m sure?” Burnett continued. “You were in theater when it happened.”
    “My men and I were leading the Republican Guard on a merry chase all over Southern Iraq,” Kellan acknowledged.
    “You remember what they told you had happened to the captured female soldier?” Burnett asked. “They told you all how badly she’d been treated, how the Iraqi people had risked their own lives to tell Marines where she was so she could be rescued. The video footage of her rescue was released for broadcast and the Marines were declared heroes.”
    “It was a great boost for our morale, I remember,” Kellan replied, the memories of that time in the desert, with Jonah at his side, played out across his mind. “It wasn’t long before we realized those Marines weren’t wearing the insignia of the team who had effected her rescue. When the soldier finally gave an interview, she said all of her injuries were sustained during the ambush and that she’d been treated well by her captors.”
    Burnett nodded. “And she wasn’t rescued. She was voluntarily turned over by her captors.” The Secretary snorted a derisive laugh. “As soon as you guys got to Baghdad, the President showed up in the war zone, declaring victory and that the conflict was over. Now, here were are, eight years later, and the new President is extracting our troops before the region is truly secure.”
    Kellan and everyone else on the ground in Iraq had known that speech was bullshit. They’d been months, if not years away from ending the conflict, even if it had been handled appropriately from the start. “I’m not sure how all of this applies to the awarding, or the refusal to award medals to the troops fighting the battles.”
    “The internet cannot be controlled, Kellan,” Burnett answered. “There is an unspoken fear that the Medal of Honor will be awarded today, and tomorrow, the recipient will post a video on Facebook, showing himself and his buddies pissing on a stack of Qurans.”
    For Kellan, the pieces began to slot into place.
    “It’s not enough, anymore, to dress you guys up in your uniforms, trot you out and have you sell war bonds,” Burnett continued with a note of regret. “The public expects the daily character of its war heroes to meet the same standard as their character in combat. You and I both know that isn’t always the case. And that kind of information can no longer be controlled by the military spin doctors. So, the way to avoid the embarrassment is to not award the medals in the first place.”
    Kellan wondered if the Secretary regretted that times had changed, or that the old guard still held sway. “I’m not sure how I feel about that, Cal.”
    “I don’t think you should be very happy about it,” Burnett replied heatedly. “And I’ll tell you this, if you can find a way around that concern so that I can award more Medals of Honor, I’ll do it.”
    That heartened Kellan significantly. “What does this all have to do with Sergeant Restrepo?”
    “You’re aware he was a Colombian national?” the Secretary asked after a sip of coffee.
    “Yes. He enlisted in the Marines the same day he was granted his green card.” Hirata had been careful to verify Restrepo’s legal resident alien status in the early days of their investigation.
    “That’s correct. All reports indicate that his family fled death