Quickly loading it with six shots, he placed it in the holster and wrapped it around his waist. Then he pulled out his grandfather's M-1 carbine and q...ickly popped a 15 round clip into it. Grabbing a bandolier with ten more clips for the M-1, he draped it over his shoulder. Opening a drawer in the cabinet, he reached in and picked up a bunch of speed loaders for the pistol, which he dumped in his jacket's pockets. Reaching under the gun cabinet, he lifted up a six-pack of water and carried it. I figured that was about as good as it was going to get, so I shoved the lighter back in my pocket, and promptly fell asleep. The sun had just passed its zenith when all hell broke loose. I was curled up in my corner, soundly dead but still aware of my surroundings, and Courtney was tossing and turning on the floor next to me when a male voice blared over a speaker, DARRICK THATCHER! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP! hearing the person outside use my full name was surprising enough to jar me to. "Mutiny, Sergeant?" he asked in a mocking tone."Well... ," the sergeant fumbled momentarily. He gave the colonel a direct look. "Sir, it was wrong what he did, really bad wrong, he wouldn't even let you tell him your plan, and then to start calling names and flat-out attacking you like that— Discipline be damned, there have to be limits. I kind of thought you were sandbagging back there on the ship, but I wasn't dead sure and I wasn't going to take the chance." Thank you, Sergeant. No officer. Debbie feels the blood drain from her face. How could he know? “You know?” she asks.“Of course,” he answers. “There isn’t much that slips past me, especially when it comes to my company. I leave the door to my bathroom unlocked in hopes one of my employees make the initiative to come in. You’re working so hard with a proposal just to see me shows great initiative.” He takes the folder from her hands and tosses it on his desk.“Don’t you um, want to look it over?” she asks, her sudden confidence.