Authors: Kennedy Hudner
Korber gestured for the binoculars. Kaelin handed them over and the Major peered through them. “Okay, I see Brill. Looks like a bloody accountant, doesn’t he? I recognize Sanchez. She already looks like a Marine.” He moved the binoculars a fraction. “Is that Tuttle?” He snorted. “She’s tiny, for Christ’s sake.” He lowered the binoculars, his smile gone, and his tone serious. “Is she tough, Andy?” he asked, using the Sergeant’s Christian name.
Kaelin shrugged. “Well, sir, that’s what this mission is intended to find out, isn’t it?”
“Has any group ever successfully completed this mission?”
“No, sir. Always a first time, though.”
Korber pursed his lips. “Who is the officer of the day?
Kaelin grinned wolfishly. “Skiffington.”
Korber shook his head in dismay. “You’ve got a mean streak, Andy.
On the parade field, Emily checked her watch: ten minutes left. Grant Skiffington was nearby. She ran to him. “Hey, Skiff! Hold up! There’s a real good chance this is a setup for a surprise mission. You should tell everyone to wear full battle rattle. Extra food and batteries.”
Skiffington stopped and turned to her. He smiled condescendingly. “And you made the jump from a morning at the rifle range to a surprise mission how, exactly?”
“Hiram thinks they’re going to send us on a major exercise.”
Skiffington pursed his lips and nodded. “Ah, well,” he said sarcastically. “If Brill says it, it must be so, right?” He looked tall and fit and more like a
soldier
than Brill, and the contrast of the two of them standing side by side somehow made Brill’s hunch sound like a feeble joke.
“Sergeant Kaelin would never give us five days of light duty,” Brill said defensively. Emily winced.
Skiffington laughed then, the tone hovering on the edge of outright scorn. “You want everyone to carry thirty extra pounds because the Sergeant is being
nice
? You sound like the lunatic fringe, you know that?”
Two bright spots appeared on Brill’s cheeks. Cookie Sanchez pushed forward, thrusting her face close to Skiffington’s. “Show a little respect, you piece of shit,” she growled. “While you busy getting’ our asses shot off time after time, Hiram here is the guy who took out two enemy companies. You got balls, Skiffy, I give you that, but you ain’t got the brains of a gnat. Hiram is smart, you hear? If he says the Sergeant is about to mess with us, that’s good enough for me.”
Emily looked at Cookie in surprise. This was something more than a person just defending a friend. There was a distinct whiff of
ownership
in her tone and body language. Skiffington’s gaze flickered from her to Brill and back again. A little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Well,” he drawled. “Who would have guessed? The notebook geek and the Amazon lady.”
Emily could sense Cookie sliding towards a fight. “It’s just a smart precaution, Skiff,” Emily said quietly, hoping to defuse the situation. The other members of Blue Company were looking at each other. Not a few laughed. Some look concerned. But Skiffington was in command, and he did not like anyone to disagree with him in public.
Skiffington snorted in amusement. “We’re going to the rifle range. Bring whatever gear you want, just don’t complain about how heavy it is later.”
An hour later Blue Company assembled at the rifle range. As they assembled, about thirty of them wore full battle gear. Sergeant Kaelin shook his head wonderingly.
“I see that some of you recruits are either hard of hearing, just plain stupid, or gluttons for punishment,” he remarked sarcastically. Emily wasn’t sure, but she could have sworn he glanced at her as he said it. She felt a little flicker of doubt. What if she was wrong?
Screw it,
she thought.
If I’m wrong, I’m wrong.
Cookie glanced at her, gave a reassuring wink. Brill kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, his jaw set.
After ninety minutes of target practice, Sergeant Kaelin blew his whistle and shouted, “Cease fire! Cease fire! Blue Company, load up by platoon on the trucks. Back to base for lunch, then we start to pack up the Company equipment. Get a move on, people!”
As they boarded the trucks, Skiffington shot her an
“I told you so”
look, then they were headed back to camp, down a long gravel spur that led to the main camp road. Emily’s transport was third in a row of five trucks. As the truck lurched and bounced along, Emily glanced at her watch. Just coming on noon; her stomach was grumbling with hunger. She looked at Brill. He shrugged apologetically. “Sorry,” he said, a little sheepishly.
“Don’t you go be sorry, sugar,” Cookie said from the other side of the truck. “It ain’t over yet. We got ourselves ten miles or more on this back road. Good ambush territory. You keep your safety off and your eyes peeled.”
Emily laughed out loud. Of course! “Hey, folks,” she called to the others. “Weapons ready! Keep your eyes on the trees for bad guys.” The others in the truck collectively blinked. Three shook their heads in disgust and went back to talking, but the rest dutifully unlimbered their rifles and turned in their seats to keep watch outward.
The ambush came two miles later. Shots rang out from a copse of woods and the first truck skidded to a halt. Inside men were already screaming from being hit, and two recruits were flashing a cheerful fluorescent orange.
“
Now
we’re havin’ fun!” Cookie whooped, firing into the woods. Hiram Brill turned to Emily. “Thank God,” he breathed. And Emily surprised herself by thinking:
The road is closed. They’ll have ambush teams all along the road
.
It was over in fifteen minutes. Skiffington quickly organized his troops and charged into the ambush site. The ambushers – it turned out to be Green Company – faded back into the forest, leaving behind several dead and wounded. The first truck in the convoy had been hit the worst: four dead, ten wounded. Skiffington returned from pursuing the ambushers, grinning broadly, his rifle cradled in his arms. “Looks like we’re going to get some fun out of this day after all,” he told Emily. She glared at him, annoyed that he did not even have the good grace to apologize for his earlier behavior. Skiffington could care less; he was just happy to be fighting again.
Scowling darkly, Kaelin called on the survivors to assemble in front of him.
“All right, everybody take a knee and listen up. Lesson of the day: Be prepared!” He glanced around sourly. “You all should know that by now. You think the enemy is going to send you a nice little note, ‘Excuse me, but we are going to attack you tomorrow at noon?’” He shook his head angrily. “Why in God’s name do you think we practiced all those ambushes? You want to take the enemy by surprise! Well guess what, people, the enemy wants to take you by surprise, too! We are training you for war, people! Not for a day at the target range. War! Stay alert or die!”
He took out a map tacked to a piece of poster board. “Okay, new orders!” He pointed to the bottom of the map. “You are here, about two miles from the main road. The main road leads you due east to the Dunloe River, then follows the river as it curves back north and northwest to the Killarney Bridge. Total distance is forty miles.”
Emily could see the map. The river road described a huge ‘S’, bending counter-clockwise until it reached the Killarney Bridge, where it then crossed the Dunloe River and turned northeast. They were at the bottom of the ‘S’. It would be a lot shorter to go in a straight line, but the terrain was a mix of bogs and steep hills. Sgt. Kaelin started talking again and she gave him her full attention.
“Blue Company’s mission is to secure the river crossing for Gold Company. Gold Company is leading a convoy of trucks that have to reach the Four Corners crossroads-” He pointed to a spot two miles past the Killarney Bridge. “For you to fulfill your mission, the trucks have to be at the Four Corners twenty-four hours from now. Enemy forces hold the Killarney Bridge. Channel 3 on your radios have been assigned to you, and Channel 4 to Gold Company. You’ll be able to speak to Gold Company when they are within five miles of you.”
He turned to Grant Skiffington. “Mr. Skiffington, you have your orders! I will be along as an observer only. You will handle the mission as you deem fit. As a little added incentive, the side that wins the exercise gets two weeks leave before having to start Fleet School.” That triggered an undercurrent of excited murmurs and at least one unabashed cheer.
To Emily’s dismay, Skiffington ordered everyone back on to the trucks. Emily stepped close to him, speaking in a low voice.
“Skiff, the road is going to be blocked. They’ll have ambush teams all along it.”
“And now that we know they’re there, we’ll be ready for them. Relax, Tuttle. Once we blow through their ambushes and get behind them, we’ll have a fast run to the bridge.”
Emily thought that if she were defending the bridge, she would have ambushes set up every mile. With every attack, Blue Company would be whittled down just a little more, until the force that reached the bridge would not be strong enough to do anything. “Skiff, take a look at the map,” she said urgently. “We can cut cross-country-”
“Mr. Skiffington!” Sgt. Kaelin bellowed. “You have a mission to accomplish! Take that bridge!”
Skiffington smiled sardonically. “Their playin’ our song, Tuttle. Time to move.” He put his map back into its pouch. “Everybody on the trucks!” Skiffington shouted. “You, too, Tuttle.”
Emily walked back to her truck, her face red and lips pressed together. “Got a problem, Tuttle?” Sgt. Kaelin asked her. She wheeled on him angrily.
“You’re supposed to be an observer here, Sergeant! Why are you egging him on like that?” she demanded.
The Sergeant shrugged eloquently. “Always somebody egging you on, Tuttle. Get used to it.”
They reached the river road, turned north, and promptly hit an ambush in force. Emily guessed there must have been thirty or more soldiers shooting at them. Skiffington tried to organize a sharp counter-attack, but everyone was so pinned down it took time. They finally drove off the ambushers, who were forced to leave behind one smiling recruit. She blinked a cheerful orange and waved at them. All told it cost Blue Company five dead, seven wounded and delayed them for three hours.
Emily again implored Skiffington to leave the road. “They are going to nibble us to death if we stay on the road! When we make it – if we make it – we won’t have enough troops left to take the bridge.”
Skiffington paused, dug out his field map and inspected it. Emily pointed out an alternate route, cutting across country. “This is not an easy walk,” she said, “but we’ll be hard for them to find in these hills, away from this damn road. With a little luck, we might surprise them.”
Sgt. Kaelin frowned and looked at his watch. “Time’s running out, Mr. Skiffington. You are the commanding officer. You’ve got a mission to accomplish and a lot of ground to cover before you can do it. What are you going to do?” he demanded.
Skiffington pointed down the road. “That’s where the enemy is, Tuttle. We can’t kill them if we don’t fight them.” He raised his voice so everyone could hear. “Everybody on the trucks! We are moving out!”
Sgt. Kaelin sighed and shook his head. “Wrong answer, recruit.” As Skiffington blinked in confusion, Sgt. Kaelin took out a small box and pushed a button. Skiffington’s uniform began to blink fluorescent orange. “Your commanding officer had just been killed by a sniper!” Kaelin turned to Emily. “Tuttle, you are now in charge.” He looked at his watch. “You have twenty-one hours and twenty minutes left to complete your mission.” And while Emily stared at him, open mouthed, he winked at her and walked away.
Fighting back a sudden rush of panic, Emily took stock. She had ninety-four men left, seven of whom were wounded. Only thirty had food, water and extra batteries for their rifles. She quickly stripped the extra batteries from the “dead” soldiers, including the Red Company soldier who had been involved in the ambush. The soldier from Red Company had two water bottles. Emily took them both, along with four packets of field rations. The dead soldier stuck out her hand. “I’m Susan Matt,” she said. “This should be very interesting. Good luck.”
“I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me where the rest of Red Company is?” Emily asked.
Matt gestured to her blinking uniform. “Dead men tell no tales,” she intoned solemnly, then ruined it by giggling.
Emily divided the Company into five platoons. She considered who to make platoon leaders. One choice was easy: Cookie Sanchez. She took Hiram Brill by the arm and pulled him aside. “Do you want to be a platoon leader, Hiram?” she asked out of hearing of the others.
Fresh beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and the color drained from his face. “Listen, Em-Emily,” he stammered. “If you need me, I’ll do it, but I’d much rather be, you know, like you staff officer or something. I’m real good with maps and-” He paused, looking away from her. “I really don’t like making battlefield decisions,” he said miserably. He took out his notebook and held it in front of him, as if he were offering her a gift of great worth. “But I’ve got everything you need to know about everyone in Blue Company.”
Emily remembered the look on Brill’s face after he led the Blue Company victory over Green and Gold. And she recalled the brilliant analysis that allowed him to do it. She made a decision. “Okay,” she said briskly. “You are my
aide de camp
, chief advisor and right hand man. But,” she said sternly. “When I want advice, I want it because I need it right then and there. You can’t get all nervous and close up on me. Deal?”
Brill breathe in relief. “I won’t let you down.”
“Okay, Mr. Advisor, I need four platoon leaders right now. Suggestions?”
Brill thought for a moment, his face taking on that peculiarly blank expression that she had seen before when he was concentrating intently. Cookie called it his “village idiot” look. Then, abruptly, he was back.
“Okay,” he said. “You want Kimball, Lee, Zavareei and,” he smiled grimly, “Skiffington.”
Emily considered. Rob Kimball was a tall, beanpole recruit with a shock of unkempt hair who had shown an unbridled enthusiasm for tactical exercises. What’s more, he had shown a talent for devious and cunning tactics, always doing something that caught his opponents by surprise. Sandra Lee was slow talking, calm and steady, but incredibly focused. She wasn’t afraid to take risks and Emily thought she would walk through fire if that is what it took to accomplish the mission.