PART 2: OPERATION CAFFEINE
Sergeant Jake Carter stared at Major Hayes.
“Sir?”
“You heard me.”
Hayes folded his arms.
“Command-level problem.”
Sarah nodded solemnly.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t encourage her,” Jake said.
Too late.
Private Carter had already grabbed a clipboard.
Sarah pointed toward him.
“Start documenting.”
Jake’s eyes widened.
“Absolutely not.”
Carter looked disappointed.
“I already wrote ‘Time of death: 0617.’”
Brooks turned away because he was laughing.
Jake pointed at the coffee machine.
“Has anyone considered simply checking why it isn’t working?”
Silence.
Sarah looked at Hayes.
Hayes looked at Brooks.
Brooks looked at Carter.
Carter looked at the machine.
“That’s surprisingly reasonable.”
Jake rubbed his forehead.
“I’m surrounded by medical professionals.”
The investigation began.
Sarah checked the water reservoir.
Full.
Brooks checked the coffee.
Plenty.
Carter pressed the power button repeatedly.
Nothing.
“Stop doing that,” Jake said.
“It might change its mind.”
“It’s a machine.”
“So far, a stubborn one.”
Hayes stood behind them like a senior consultant observing an extremely complicated procedure.
Finally Sarah announced:
“We may need maintenance.”
Jake stared at her.
“For a coffee maker?”
Hayes nodded.
“Escalate.”
Ten minutes later, Specialist Emma Reed from maintenance entered the aid station.
She found seven Army medical personnel standing around one coffee machine.
She stopped.
“Do I want to know?”
Sarah pointed.
“We lost coffee capability.”
Emma looked at Jake.
He sighed.
“Please just fix it.”
Emma walked over.
She examined the machine.
Checked the cord.
Followed it toward the wall.
Then stopped.
She bent down.
Picked something up.
And held it in the air.
The plug.
The coffee machine wasn’t plugged in.
Nobody spoke.
Emma stared at them.
Seven trained medical professionals stared back.
Finally she asked:
“How many of you looked at this?”
Sarah raised her hand halfway.
Brooks suddenly became fascinated with the ceiling.
Carter whispered:
“This information should remain internal.”
Emma plugged it in.
The machine immediately lit up.
The room erupted.
Sarah raised both arms.
“We have power!”
Carter slapped the table.
“She’s alive!”
Jake closed his eyes.
“I hate all of you.”
Major Hayes stepped toward Emma.
“Outstanding work, Specialist.”
Emma laughed.
“Sir, I plugged it into the wall.”
Hayes nodded gravely.
“And today, that’s enough to make you essential personnel.”
Minutes later, fresh coffee began dripping into the pot.
Every person in the aid station watched.
Jake noticed.
“This is embarrassing.”
Sarah shook her head.
“This is beautiful.”
When the first pot was ready, Hayes poured a cup.
Then he paused.
“Specialist Reed gets the first one.”
Emma looked surprised.
“I don’t even drink coffee.”
The entire room gasped.
Sarah stared at her.
“You came into our aid station and said that out loud?”
Emma shrugged.
“I prefer tea.”
Private Carter whispered:
“Security.”
Emma laughed and left.
The coffee emergency should have ended there.
Instead, it became legend.
By lunchtime, someone had taped a handwritten card beside the machine:
CHECK PLUG BEFORE DECLARING EMERGENCY.
Sarah removed it.
The next morning, another appeared:
COFFEE READINESS STATUS: GREEN.
Then somebody placed a toy medical wristband around the coffee pot.
Jake confiscated it.
Three days later, Major Hayes walked into the station before sunrise.
Everyone was busy.
He approached the coffee machine.
Pressed the button.
Nothing happened.
Hayes froze.
He pressed it again.
Still nothing.
Sarah noticed from across the room.
Their eyes met.
Neither spoke.
Slowly, Hayes looked down.
The machine was plugged in.
Water reservoir full.
Coffee loaded.
Everything looked correct.
Sarah approached.
“Sir?”
Hayes whispered:
“Get Jake.”
Sarah’s eyes widened.
“Another emergency?”
“Don’t say that yet.”
Too late.
Jake entered.
He saw them gathered around the machine.
“No.”
Sarah pointed.
“It’s different this time.”
“No.”
“Sergeant—”
“I refuse.”
Then Private Carter walked over holding his mug.
He studied the machine.
Reached behind it.
And flipped the small power switch.
The machine started.
Silence.
Carter smiled proudly.
“Command-level problem resolved.”
Jake looked toward the ceiling.
Sarah began laughing.
Major Hayes picked up his mug and calmly waited for the coffee.
Then he looked at Carter.
“Good work.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Hayes lowered his voice.
“Tell nobody.”
Carter smiled.
“Sir, with respect…”
He pointed around the aid station.
Everyone had heard.
Hayes sighed.
Twenty minutes later, a new handwritten sign appeared beside the machine:
BEFORE CALLING COMMAND: CHECK THE SWITCH.
Hayes stared at it.
Sarah walked past carrying her coffee.
“Want me to remove that, sir?”
Hayes took a long sip from his own cup.
“No.”
He looked at the machine.
“Leave it.”
Then he smiled.
“Apparently even emergencies need a checklist.”