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“Aw, fuck it.” I muttered as I walked back to the front of the shop. It was mine, all mine. All nine hundred feet of storefront and a lousy one-...ar garage in the back that served as my repair bay. I was the front guy, the back guy, the go-to guy, the whole thing, all at once. Sometimes its a little depressing. Like now.I grabbed the chin-up bar mounted across the doorway and knocked out a quick seven. I was up to ten before the divorce, and the lack of eating, too much work, and not. It may be reposted or archived inany free location, but not used commercially.It's not for children. Please take due care to keep it from those whoaren't mature enough to understand that it is fiction, not advocacy of a particularlifestyle.______________________________________________________Duty, Honor, Countryby Brandy DewinterChapter 1 - Tradition? The lines of uniformed bodies stood patiently in sunlight brightly magnified by reflections from the acres of concrete ramp. They had little. More

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