THE BATTALION SON IN LAW

CHAPTER 6- Rich boy

"I'm telling you, Martinez, that cartel stronghold shouldn't still be standing," Corporal Jake Thompson wiped sweat from his forehead with a dirty sleeve. "Three weeks now, and those bastards are dug in like ticks on a hound. Command's getting nervous."

"Nervous enough to call in family representatives," Private Maria Santos added, her voice dripping with disdain. "Rich boy reinforcements coming to save the day."

The cantina erupted in bitter laughter, the sound echoing off the corrugated metal roof.

"Speaking of rich boys," Sergeant Rodriguez leaned forward conspiratorially, "word is we're getting a Hamilton today. Not just any Hamilton either—some son-in-law nobody."

Silver Caldwell sat at a corner table, her dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, her desert fatigues bearing the insignia of a station lieutenant. Her aide, Annie Chen, a sharp-eyed woman in her early thirties, nursed a cup of lukewarm coffee while studying the latest patrol reports.

"A Hamilton, huh?" Silver mused, her voice carrying across the cantina. "I was hoping they'd send Rebecca herself. The Steel Magnolia would've been interesting to meet."

"You mean terrifying to meet," Annie corrected with a wry smile. "That woman could freeze hellfire with a look."

"Exactly," Silver grinned. "Instead, we get her husband. What kind of man marries Rebecca Hamilton anyway? Takes balls or stupidity in equal measure."

Thompson laughed harshly. "From what I heard, the guy's from nowhere—some charity case who got lucky. Probably thinks military service will make him look tough to his ice queen wife."

"Former wife," Santos corrected. "Word is they're divorced. Guy probably couldn't handle being married to a glacier."

Silver's eyebrows rose with interest. "Divorced? Now that's fascinating. What kind of man walks away from Hamilton money?"

"A stupid one," Rodriguez spat. "Or maybe she kicked him out for being useless. Rich families don't keep dead weight around long."

Divorced from Rebecca Hamilton, Silver thought, stirring her coffee absently. Either he's got more spine than anyone expected, or he's completely lost his mind.

"Silver, we need to get to the north wall," Annie said, checking her watch. "Guard rotation starts in ten minutes."

As they walked through the station's maze of corridors and courtyards, the oppressive heat made every step feel like walking through molten air. The stone walls radiated warmth even in the shade, and the metal fixtures were too hot to touch.

"You know what pisses me off most about these family representatives?" Silver said, adjusting her rifle strap. "They show up, get a few weeks of 'dangerous' border experience, then go home to brag about their service. Meanwhile, we're stuck here dealing with the real shit."

"Regulations are regulations," Annie replied pragmatically. "When cartel activity extends past standard timeframes, military families get the option to send representatives. Nothing we can do about it."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Silver muttered. "These rich boys come in expecting special treatment, throwing tantrums when they don't get five-star accommodations."

The sound of engines approaching the main gate cut through their conversation. A cloud of dust rose beyond the walls, signaling the arrival of the morning transport.

"Well, well," Annie said with a smirk. "Looks like your Hamilton boy is here."

Silver's eyes lit up with anticipation. "This should be entertaining. Come on, let's go watch the fireworks."

They climbed the stone steps to the ramparts, where other soldiers had already gathered to witness the arrival. The Hamilton transport—a sturdy military vehicle—pulled through the gates and came to a stop in the central courtyard.

Two figures emerged from the vehicle: a young ranger with an eager face and bright eyes, and a man in his late twenties with dark hair and a calm demeanor. The second man moved with quiet confidence, his shoulders straight despite the brutal heat.

"That's him?" Silver whispered to Annie. "He doesn't look like much."

Below in the courtyard, a welcoming committee of Caldwell soldiers had formed—though their intentions were far from welcoming.

"Well, well, look what the desert dragged in," Sergeant Murphy called out, his voice carrying clearly in the thin air. "If it isn't Hamilton's leftover husband."

Max Sterling looked up at the circle of hostile faces, his expression remaining perfectly neutral.

"Actually, it's ex-husband now," Corporal Davis added with a cruel grin. "Guess even Hamilton money couldn't make you worth keeping around."

The soldiers laughed, the sound harsh and mocking. Jackson shifted uncomfortably beside Max, his hand moving instinctively toward his sidearm.

"Easy there, ranger boy," Murphy continued, noticing Jackson's movement. "We're just being friendly. Tell me, Sterling, what's it like being thrown away like yesterday's trash? Must sting, knowing you weren't even worth the alimony."

Silver watched from the ramparts, expecting Max to explode, to demand respect, to throw his family name around like a weapon. Every other rich boy who'd come through here had done exactly that.

Instead, Max smiled—not a bitter or angry smile, but something almost... amused.

"You know, Sergeant," Max said calmly, "I've heard worse from my former in-laws at Sunday dinner. If this is your idea of intimidation, you might want to practice more."

The courtyard fell silent. Murphy's face reddened, clearly not expecting such a measured response.

"Big words from a man who couldn't even keep his wife happy," Davis snarled. "What makes you think you can handle real soldier work?"

"I guess we'll find out," Max replied evenly. "Where should I stow my gear?"

He's not taking the bait, Silver realized, her estimation of the man below shifting slightly. Interesting.

"Annie, take the watch," Silver said suddenly. "I want to meet this guy after guard duty."

"Planning to give him the Caldwell welcome?" Annie asked with a knowing smile.

"Something like that," Silver replied, her eyes never leaving Max as he followed a grudgingly respectful Murphy toward the barracks. "Something tells me Mr. Sterling might be more interesting than I thought."