Page 55 of Metal & Mud

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LOGAN

The 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."

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