Sunday August 25th 2013
Grafenwöhr, Germany
The previous day at the German Panzer Museum can be described as simply excellent. Every member of the team had seen something at the place that they enjoyed. For Valarie, to say it was a dream come true would be an understatement. Days where every moment was of pure delight were few and far between and yesterday fit that bill beautifully. Without a shadow of a doubt, Valarie will cherish the memories made for years to come.
It was the early morning and the weather was cloudy. So early that the team was still asleep in the humble hotel they were staying in. Like in all other times the team have traveled, each crew were packed into their own room. Valarie's crew were asleep, with her awake. She was already in her uniform, freshly clean and ready for the day ahead. Valarie was gazing out the second floor window to a park across the street. At this early hour it was mostly vacant. The trees danced faintly as gusts of winds blew through their branches. In a calm and cool morning, she took this moment to think. There was a lot that weighed heavily on her mind. The most pressing matter was the visitation of the army base later today. Though she would have preferred to spend a day with a tank unit, as U.S tank units were withdrawn earlier in the year from Europe, a field artillery unit will have to suffice. The day will still be nonetheless interesting and who knows what surprises could spring up. Her mind then dwelled on the upcoming match against the New Zealand team. The necessary preparations have been made. The strategy has already been crafted and is ready for execution, the new material the team ordered has already arrived and been installed where applicable, and the new crew for the Type 97 have been trained enough with their tank to work their roles decently enough. It was the uncertainty that troubled her. Every match cultivated this feeling within. A perpetual fog of war where all manner of monsters can lurk within, biding their time to unleash a strike. Perhaps no monster can claim to be more fearsome than Molly Pitcher's E-100, the Standardpanzer that made its presence known far and wide at its debut at the American nationals. It only has been roughly two months since the national finals, though with how much has happened since now and then, it felt like it happened a decade ago. Like it was part of a different story. Valarie could vividly remember the emotion she has felt when the E-100 first revealed itself from that barn. It was the closest she has ever felt fear in a tankery match. Had the Super Pershing not taken the monster down in the way that it did, the nationals could very well have turned out differently.
Valarie took a deep breath and grinned to herself, pleased to see what the intense efforts of the team has brought them. She turned around and was mildly surprised to see Emma was awake and was looking at her silently with a soft smile on her face. Valarie walked over and got into bed next to her. They clasped hands.
"You got an eyeful?" Valarie softly said in a tease.
Emma gave her the quietest of chuckles. "Oh, yes ma'am."
"Oh please," Valarie said, her cheeks turning red. "I'm not used to that kind of formality."
"Well, captain, I'm more than happy to help you get used to all kinds of formal talk. You are in uniform after all."
Valarie's blush deepened. "You love to make me turn red, don't you?"
"Yes, yes I do. And I know just the trick to make your cheeks that much redder."
Emma grabbed Valarie by the collar of her uniform to pull her in to kiss. Valarie instantly melted and returned the kiss in kind. After several long blissful moments, they pulled apart. Their eyes locked and both cheeks showing a vibrant shade of red.
"That...that does the trick." Valarie remarked.
"I've got more tricks," Emma said with a wink. "One day, I'll show you what they are. They are a lot more fun."
Valarie raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Okay. I'm curious."
"Do you know what I'm talking about?"
"Not really, no," Valarie admitted. "It's a bit broad."
"...Broad?"
"Yeah, I mean, so many things can be fun, you know?"
"Sure, though what I really meant-"
Valarie rose a finger. "Don't tell me. I want to be surprised with what you have in store for me."
"Surprised? What I have in mind isn't really what you surprise people with. It involves buildup that is...fairly obvious."
"Oh? It sounds pretty unique then. Try to pull it off, please?"
"Ah...uh...alright," Emma said after some hesitation. "I'll hammer out some plan."
Valarie grinned. "Cool! Man, I literally have no idea what you have in mind so I can't wait to see it. Now, you outta put on your uniform. I gotta wash my face."
Valarie rose from the bed and went to the bathroom. Emma lingered at the bed, sighed, and finally got up. She went toward her bags to fetch her uniform when she glanced down toward the floor at the foot of the bed to find Ashley, awake, and looking right at her with a smile.
"You call it 'tricks'?" Ashley asked.
Emma looked toward the bathroom door for a moment then knelt down next to Ashley. "We're thinking of the same 'it', aren't we?"
"Duh. The same 'it' that created you and me. Val has no idea what she has just asked you to do."
"Jeez, I know right?"
"But you do want it, yeah?"
"Obviously. But with how Valarie is in these regards...I don't have a freaking clue how to even start."
"Careful and delicate planning will be key here," Ashley told her. "Do not rush into this."
"Hmm," Emma hummed. "You're talking like you-"
"Done this before? Guilty."
"Well, I'm not surprised. When and who?"
Ashley shook her head. "I'm not sharing anything. Sorry."
"Fine...fine," Emma said. She then turned to look at Heather who was still asleep. "I never seen such a deep sleeper. We're like talking right next to her."
"It's because of her medication."
"Medication?"
"Yeah, she has 'em. You know a while back when she told us she has anger issues? Well, she has medication for that. Whenever she gets real agitated, she takes some pills that calms her down. A side effect though is that they make her super drowsy. When she took them last night, she was knocked out not even a minute later."
"Oh, okay," Emma remarked. "Is she made about something then?"
Ashley hesitated and her hands fidgeted. "Ah," she cleared her throat. "Well, you know how are people with anger problems. Something so trivial that makes them explode."
"Ah, gotcha."
Emma went and put on her uniform. When Valarie finished washing her face, the two departed the room to go get breakfast, leaving Ashley and Heather in the room. Ashley stood up from the floor and stretched. She reached for her bag to dig out her uniform.
"It's not trivial."
Heather's voice spooked Ashley, who slowly turned to face her.
"I thought you were asleep."
"Sometimes when I wake up, I don't always open my eyes. Just a quirk I have."
"That's one hell of a quirk."
"Why didn't you tell Emma about who I saw on Friday? The girl who has spiked my anxiety and anger?"
Ashley looked down toward the floor. "Why should Emma have to know? Didn't Valarie say its better to keep it all low-key?"
"I agree to, to a point, wit what Valarie said to keep all the drama from the team. But Emma needs to know. They sabotaged the tank she shoots." Heather told her. She then brought a hand to her head as she felt a brief yet intense pain. Her face showed it.
"Are you okay?" Ashley asked with concern.
"No...I'm not," Heather said under her breath. "Since I saw that girl, I've been having flare ups...the voice...it's speaking to me again."
"What is the voice saying to you?"
"Things I don't want to repeat. God, why did that bitch have to show up? I was doing so good! I haven't heard the fucking voice since our match in Spain but since I saw her...it's been talking."
"What about yesterday? At the museum?"
"That was a day of respite. I was so distracted by the tanks that the voice couldn't dare utter a word."
"Well...then the army base visit will be good too. Lots of distractions."
"Oh yes, loads," Heather replied. "Now, ah, let's get ready."
Located in the south-west from the town, lied a base.
It took up 223 square kilometers of land.
44 digitally connected computerized ranges.
43 artillery firing points
24 mortar firing points.
2 airfields.
Home to around 6,000 people.
Grafenwöhr Army Base is the home of the 7th Army Training Command, a U.S Army training training organization that not only serves to train elements of the U.S Army, but also the allies of the United States, in particular, fellow NATO members. The Mojave Rose team earlier has piled into a bus and were were taken to this facility. They were all in their uniforms. It wasn't said in the invitation they were required to wear their uniforms for their visit today, yet, Valarie thought it was only appropriate to show up to an army base in proper attire. The bus stopped before an entrance. Valarie, who was in the front, looked out the window to see that no one was outside.
"Huh," she uttered. "I guess we're early."
"I expected more honestly," Ray added who was sat behind her. "Not a full on parade or anything, but..."
"Hold on, someone's coming."
A person emerged from a building, sporting the familiar ACU, or Army Combat Uniform. They were alone and were walking right toward the bus. They the stopped a few feet before the vehicle. Arms behind their back. Valarie, seeing this, immediately got off the bus and approached the person. On level ground, she was somewhat surprised that the soldier before her was only slightly taller. What more piled on to her surprise as Valarie expected the person who sent the invitation to be the one greeting her, Sargent Major Hank Sinclair. But the soldier that greeted them was a woman and the name Hank is definitely not feminine.
"Uh, good morning," Valarie begin, her nervousness growing. "We're the, ah, Mojave Rose Tankery Team here under invitation."
The soldier smiled at her. "Oh yes, we've been looking forward to your visit."
"Ah...I don't know if I have to salute or not."
The soldier chuckled. "Ha, no you don't. You're not military. Now, for introductions. I'm Staff Sargent Marigold Harris, part of the Public Affairs section here at Grafenwöhr. I'll be with you kids as we tour this facility. We've got quite a few things to see, not to mention that the 41st really wants to see you guys. Sargent Major Sinclair is part of the 41st, you'll meet him and the rest of the unit in due time."
"Sounds neat. I'm Valarie Woodlin, captain of the team.
Harris's arm flinched. "Oh sorry, I heard the word captain and nearly saluted. Force of habit, ya know? Now, is you're team going to sit in that bus all day?"
Valarie looked behind her to see the members of the team looking out the window at them. She gestured at them and soon they piled out. The large group set out, with Harris up in front leading them. Valarie was near her and the pair continued chatting.
"So, what gave you guys the idea to invite us?"
"It was some time after your first match in the internationals. They are a lot of tankery fans on base, hell, practically every woman here actually was in the sport at some point, which inspired them to join the military. Your match against Italy was seen by a lot of people here and since then people have thrown the idea of inviting you because you'll be in Europe for a while. We essentially badgered the higher ups to accept this."
"Cool. Have you been in tankery?"
"MmmHmm, all four years in high school. Nothing fancy like being the captain. I was the humble gunner of a Panzer IV Mark. G."
"Panzer IV?" Valarie echoed. "I'm...very familiar with that tank."
"Make sense. You are a captain, after all."
The team was lead to a lot not at all far from where they arrived where another bus was waiting for them. As Grafenwöhr was such a huge place it was impracticable for everyone to walk where they needed to go. They all piled into the vehicle and once the door closed they were off. Harris stood at the front of the bus and as they drove around the base and passed by all sorts of buildings and structures with her lecturing the team of their purposes. A chapel for those to attend religious services, a fitness center to keep in shape, which is doubly important for those whose job requirement demand them to be fit, locations for the boy and girls scouts, a full-fledged shopping center that had all manner of stores and restaurants, schools for 'brats', as Harris calls them, a bank, a theater, and of course, the barracks. With that and many more aspects that make up Grafenwöhr, what would be amazing to find what the place doesn't have. It's a small American town right in the heart of Germany. Always nice to have familiarity in a foreign country. What they also witnessed was groups of soldiers out doing PT, physical training. They were running together as a unit and though they managed to maintain cohesion, their PT uniforms were drenched in sweat. Soon, the bus got onto a road that lead them away from the core of the base and toward a open area. Buildings dissipated as the views were soon replaced with a more rural area. Yet, it did not get quieter as one would expect when going to what is essentially the countryside. The team suddenly a series of pops in a quick secession. Then it halted for a few brief seconds where it was then heard again. This repeated again and again when soon they discovered the source of it. They passed by a gunnery range where soldiers were at their stations practicing their shooting. It wasn't American soldiers, as Harris was quick to point out, but actually members of the Greek Army here at Grafenwöhr for training. Those lucky to be on the right side had a great view of the soldiers in action, especially since now some soldiers fired a heavy machine gun, whose loud noise and power delighted everyone. Though as match as people would actually enjoy watching the soldiers shoot, the team were here for much bigger guns. They continued down the road where now the base has sunk beneath the horizon. The bus parked in a dirt lot and once it came to a stop, Harris promptly got out with the rest of the team in tow.
"We're walking from here," she told them. "Where we're going isn't terribly far."
The group followed a path that lead them further into the country. As they walked, they could the sound of distant, powerful thuds. Unmistakably it was from artillery fire. As more shots were heard, the excitement among the team grew higher and higher. And this excitement shot up like a rocket when they got to where they were being lead to. In an open field was several vehicles that best resembled trucks with tracks. Mounted on its rear was one hell of a weapon system. Soldiers stood around near them, with the closest taking note of their arrival. One of them made their way toward the group as Harris went ahead to meet with the approaching soldier, the two entering into a conversation.
"What are those things?" Emma questioned. "They don't look like tanks."
"They aren't," Valarie told her. "They're rocket artillery."
Before more could be said about the artillery, the soldier that was near the vehicle now went toward the team. Unlike Harris, he towered over them all and his uniform more fit for action in the field. He scanned the team looking for a particular face, then stopped before Valarie.
"There you are," he said to her. "I recognize you from articles I've read about your exploits. Sargent Major Hank Sinclair. Hope you are finding Grafenwöhr well."
"We've been given the quick tour but we got the gist of things," Valarie told him. "Though, we are here for one thing in particular."
"That you are. Man, I gotta say. I'm digging the WWII tanker uniforms. They look authentic. Are they?"
"Yes!" Valarie said with enthusiasm. "They are the real deal. Wonderfully aged and they still fit and feel great."
Sinclair nodded with approval. "That is what I like to hear. Now," he then said, pointing to one of the vehicles. "You spend all your time in those old vehicles. Happen to know anything about more modern machines?"
Valarie couldn't wipe the smile on her face. "That is a M270 Multiple Launch Rocket System. Self-propelled multiple rocket artillery."
"Well damn. Looks like you know your stuff."
"You don't even know the half of it." Emma quipped.
Sinclair then moved to address the entirety of the team. "You come all the way here and see these artillery vehicles and you most likely think to yourself, 'Are those things going to shoot or what?'. If you were thinking that, well, you're in luck. If you weren't, take this as a surprise. Walk all the way to that treeline and wear those goggles of yours. The best firework show in the world is about to begin."
Beyond eager, the team complied with Sinclair's instructions and walked to the treeline that was about 150 meters from the M270 platoon. Sinclair returned to his vehicle and in the next moment the platoon had their rocket systems deploy. It rose into the air, revealing its arsenal of M26 artillery rockets with each warhead containing 644 anti-personnel/material grenades. The M270s fine tuned their aim, their launchers maneuvering oh so slightly where they all soon came to a stop. Before any one could could even think properly, the M270s opened fire. One volley of rockets was sent down range. Each rocket that left its platform sounded like an enormous clap of thunder. Trails of smoke streaked the sky as the rockets quickly disappeared from view. The team has had an experience with rocket artillery before, that being Mustang's T34 Calliopes. Yet its firepower is totally eclipsed compared to the M270 whose rockets flew faster, farther, and packed one hell of a bigger punch. Sinclair and the rest of the platoon unleashed a storm of firepower, giving no mercy to an empty patch of land 10 miles away. With careful hearing, the team could hear the far off explosions. Once the last rocket left its tube and soared across the sky, silence took hold. In the air was the odor of vaporized propellant along with clouds of smoke and dust that surrounded the M270s. The team were starstruck, totally in awe over the firepower that was just demonstrated. Sinclair got out of one of the M270s and returned to them.
"It never gets old, doesn't it? You guys and your cannons and us with our rockets. I've been at this for years and the feeling of those rockets has never diminished. Now, who among you operates that Soviet artillery?"
Six girls emerged from the team and went up to Sinclair.
"Ah, there you are," he said to them. "Six people in one vehicle, man, that's gotta be crowded. The M270 doesn't have much space either and it only has a crew half of yours."
"Cozy is perhaps the best word for the SU." Jacqueline remarked.
"That is a polite way to put it." Gwen said, one of the gunners.
Sinclair gestured them closer to an M270. "What's the maximum range of your SU?"
"25 kilometers," Jacqueline answered. "Though we have never fired that far before. We're normally much closer. 3-8 kilometers away usually."
"Close range artillery support huh? I getcha. Do you relocate after every shot?"
The SU-14 crew looked at him in silence for a moment.
"Um...we, ah, we don't." Jacqueline admitted.
Sinclair pondered this response. "Uh-huh. Well, since artillery isn't a very common type of vehicle to face in tankery matches, you can be forgiven of not relocating since counter-battery would be rare. But it is still a good tactic to use nonetheless. It what we do all the time. We fire our rockets, fall back to a position to reload, then drive to a different position to attack targets. In your case, you'd take a shot and the moment the shell leaves the barrel, you drive toward a position already planned out. That's called shoot-and-scoot tactics. Also, you say the max range of the gun is 25 klicks, yeah? I say try to make those shots. People absolutely freak out when they come under fire from something they can't see. Plus, the farther you are away, the less likely people can reasonably judge what direction you fired from.
Jacqueline and her crew exchanged glances.
"Alright, we'll take a stab at max range shots when there is an opportunity. But, no way can that be accurate, right?"
"I won't lie to you, accurate shots at such a range will be real hard to pull off. And since your targets will be enemy tanks, well, you might as well be trying to hit an ant from a top of a skyscraper. That and the travel time for the shell means that a tank can easily drive away from the impact zone, even unintentionally. So, best to target clusters of tanks to maximize your chances of landing a hit. Hmm...since I mentioned buildings, do you girls carry some anti-concrete shells with ya?"
"We dont. We just carry a near full load of HE shells with a few smoke and illumination rounds."
"Smoke and illumination rounds are smart, but I'd advice you carrying a few anti-concrete rounds. 'Cause sooner or later you kids will be fighting in an urban environment and the enemy will certainly be under a bridge or tunnel as cover. With an anti-concrete shell, you'll bust them open and perhaps even knock them out in the process."
The mere thought of bringing down a structure hyped the SU-14 like nothing else in the world. Jacqueline turned toward the team and looked right at Valarie.
"VALARIE. WE NEED ANTI-CONCRETE SHELLS!"
"Okay." was Valarie's simple response.
"One more thing," Sinclair said to the SU-14 crew. "Did you guys know that the 25 klicks of the range of that thing isn't really its maximum range?"
"No way, it can shoot farther?" Jacqueline questioned
"That 25 klick range comes from your guns maximum elevation. If you guys drove onto some dirt ramp to tilt your SU back, you'd get more range outta it. 26, maybe even 27 clicks. You're accuracy will be hell, that's for sure but when you need to shoot that much farther, you have a way to do it.
The SU-14 crew were beyond happy to get advice from someone who can actually relate to their experience. Yes, though Sinclair operated rocket artillery he could still dispense relevant advice. Once their chat concluded, Sinclair allowed the team to get up close and personal with the M270s to get familiar with all the little details. All the while, Sinclair sought Valarie out.
"Liked the fireworks show?" he asked her.
"Oh my god, like you wouldn't believe!" Valarie exclaimed.
"Damn right. Though, there had to be something on your mind ever since I sent you that invitation."
"Hmm?"
"Surely you've been thinking why a field artillery unit invited you and, say, not a tank unit?"
"I'll be honest with you. A tank unit would be great to see, but, they aren't any U.S tank units in Europe. They got withdrawn back in April."
"That's true, but, this base isn't just for the U.S ya know. All sorts of countries come to this place to train."
Valarie raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. And, there just so happens to be a tank unit of the Royal Danish Army not too far from us. I know their commander...and they are on break right now."
Valarie's eyes were gleaming. "Please."
"How can I say no with eyes like that? Reminds me of my own daughter. C'mon. Gather your crew. Let's head on out."
Valarie quickly got her crew and together followed Sinclair to a HUMVEE that was parked nearby. He drove them several minutes away to another large and expansive clearing. There were five tanks belonging to the Denmark, Leopard 2A5s. Valarie couldn't not contain herself, rocking in her seat as she waited for the HUMVEE to come to a stop.
"You four wait here," Sinclair told them. "I gotta talk to the commander and get his approval."
He got out of the vehicle to get to talking. All the while, Valarie had a laser focus on the nearby Leopards.
"A Rheinmetall L/44 120mm gun for its main armament, can go nearly 70 kilometers per hour, and armor that we can only assume is fantastic because its exact protection detail is classified."
"That turret has a futuristic vibe to me." Ashley remarked.
"All that firepower speeding around the battlefield, man oh man. A team with one Leopard 1 can just destroy the opposition, not matter how much tanks they field." Emma added.
"It'd be totally unfair," Heather said. "But totally fun as well."
As they chatted, they then saw Sinclair wave them over. The T-44 eagerly got out of the vehicle and marched right toward the Leopards. Sinclair was with a man from the Danish army, a commander of one of the Leopards. He looked at the girls and studied them for a moment.
"So, you four are part of the American team in the world competition, hmm?" The commander said to them. "Getting this far means you got the experience. Sargent Major Sinclair has made good points so I'm prepare to make you girls an offer. Would you like to operate this Leopard?" he said, pointing to the tank behind him.
Valarie felt her breath be taken away. "Are...are you serious?"
The Danish commander nodded. "It's not unusual for me. In Denmark, the army sometimes allows tankery teams to take their MBTs for a spin. Your uniforms, while outdated, will be adequate enough for operations."
Valarie's crew looked at her with eyes full of awe and excitement. They were waiting for her command.
"Mount up!"
The girls ran and climbed on to the Leopard. The Danish commander gave quick instructions on how the hatches worked so that they could get inside, and told them that shooting the gun was strictly prohibited. That was all that he said to them as from that moment on, they were to figure things out themselves. In the turret, Valarie, Emma and Ashley got into their positions. Finding where the commander, gunner, and loader sat wasn't particular hard to determine. Though what was daunting was the computers and other electronics that were the mainstay of main battle tanks. They examined the fighting compartment closely when the Leopard jolted forward, and then, drove on.
"I figured it out!" Heather exclaimed from the front.
"Woah, Heather!" Valarie called out. "We're sill trying to get comfortable here!"
"That's on you. I'm finding my groove with this thing."
Heather wasn't being cautious with her driving. Once she figured out what controls did what, she put the Leopard in gear and slammed on the accelerator. There was a nearby path and she followed it. All the while, the rest of the crew got situated. Ashley's position quite cozy though better than being on the other side of the breech where both Valarie and Emma were. She looked around where she sat. There was the usual vision devices, though of course much more sophisticated compared to what the T-44 had. Looking around more, she saw and opened a sliding door and found the ammo. She couldn't resist pulling out a round to see it all.
"We're not allowed to shoot, Ashley." Valarie reminded her
"Oh, he said nothing about this. I mean, look at this!"
She presented them with an armor-piercing fin-stablized discarding sabot round. The warhead was what drew gasps of surprise. It look so radically different compared to the standard armor-piercing rounds for the T-44's 100mm gun. That tungsten dart, the projectile that flies at speeds greater than sound, looked like the pure definition of devastation.
On the other side of the cannon breech, Emma was before the gun's sight. She pressed her face against it and couldn't help but let out an amazed laugh. Even with the Leopard traveling at 50 kilometers per hour, she saw that the sight remained perfectly still thanks to the stabilizers. That, and all the other equipment and electronics whose purpose was to ensure accurate shots, she was in love.
"Getting the title of gun shot bride must be super easy with this thing. God...do I want that title..."
Behind her was Valarie who was on cloud nine. Her hands were all over the interior walls of the Leopard, as if she couldn't believe that was was happening was for real. She opened the commander's hatch and popped out of it. The familiar sensation of the wind hitting her face felt much more sweeter than ever before. Though the T-44 will always have a special place in her heart for being the first tank she has commanded, this experience with the Leopard won't be forgotten by her. It'll be treasured among all the other memories she has formed since she has joined this team. An idea hit her. She ordered the tank to come to a halt and handed her phone to Emma.
"Get out of the tank and take a picture of me popped out of the hatch. I want to make my parents go insane."
"Oh you got it!"
Emma did what she told and took a few pictures she that Valarie could pick out the best one. In all the pictures, she was smiling so much hard that her eyes were closed. Once the girls had their fun, they returned back to the Danes and hopped out of the Leopard. They looked like they just came out of a sauna. Relaxed and satisfied. Sinclair noted how they looked and chuckled.
"A good time, I take it?" he asked them.
"This whole day is better than a good time." Valarie responded.
"Well that's fantastic to hear. Thank you, Sargent Major Sinclair for all of this."
"Hold your thanks, we aren't done just yet," he told her. Sinclair went to the HUMVEE parked nearby and rummaged through one of the storage lockers. When he returned, he had a helmet in his hands. "When you agreed to come visit, I knew that a gift of some sort had to be involved."
Sinclair handed the helmet to Valarie. It was a U.S Military CVC Tanker helmet. Unlike her own helmet, this one had a ballistic shell which gave it some weight. What more, it had an incorporated headset that would make radio communication the easiest it could ever be.
"I've had to look around everywhere to find one that was in a desert camo to match your uniform and it was surprisingly hard. And, man, you would not believe all the paper work that had to be done just to let you have it. It's surplus for god's sake." Sinclair explained.
Valarie removed her own helmet and put the new one on. It felt wonderfully snug and fit her well. She toyed with the headset and moved the microphone close to her mouth. She then noticed the wire that was dangling about that was meant to connect to the radio. An adapter will for sure be needed to make the headset work with the radio in the T-44. She pulled off the goggles on her old helmet and strapped them on her new one. And with that, her new look was complete. Sinclair leaned back with a hand on his chin as if he was an artist admiring some work in a museum. He gave a nod.
"Ready for damn battle," he told her with approval. "That helmet will probably not be some match decider, but I hope it serves you well enough."
"Oh it will. Thank you."
"It's our pleasure. You know, we're quite alike you and I. We are both representing the United States in some shape or form. There's an honor to that. Also, I noticed that they have a handful of boys on your team. I have some nephews who love the sport want to join a team of their own. But, because the sport is so female dominated, they're scared of taking the first step out of fearing of being bullied or harassed. If you do well in the tournament, hell, even damn win it all, you'd be helping my nephews and other boys all over so much."
Valarie took in his words and repeated them in her mind. The mood took a more solemn turn. "The only thing I can promise is that we will do our best."
Sinclair shot her a grin. "Your best got you this far."
The pair shook hands.
"Now," Sinclair continued. "All this excitement surely made you all hungry. Let's head down to the mess hall. Dispel some myths about military food."
.
.
.
Stockholm, Sweden
Same Day
Nestled in his home in the suburbs, Elias was sat on the couch in his living room. Before him on the coffee table was his laptop and the docket from his deceased father. He was reclined on the coach and let out an exasperated sigh. His wife, who took note of his frustation, went over to his side.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "Is that thing from your father troubling you?"
"Kind of," Elias told her. "Matilda, have I explained to you fully what this is all about?"
Matilda shook her head. "You mentioned a tank but nothing more."
"It's a hunt. My dad bought a tank and hid it somewhere in Europe. He wrote all these cryptic clues for people to decipher and follow that will lead them to it. It's an historical tank and judging from the title, a German one from the First World War."
"That sounds fun!" his wife exclaimed. "Why don't we get our friends and family and seek it out ourselves?"
"We can't. Part of the rules my father stipulated that close friends and family are prohibited from finding the tank. My only role in this is to find someone suitable to initiate the hunt. From there, it's hands off."
"Odd rules, isn't it?"
"At a first glance, but you can infer from it that my dad wanted someone who was at the very least some kind of history or tank enthusiast. I'm not into tanks. You aren't either. We don't know anyone who is. Hence, the prohibition. He wants someone who can appreciate the find."
Matilda nodded. "Alright. So you have to find the right candidate for the hunt. That can't be too difficult."
"Oh, but it is!" Elias exclaimed. "I've have gone to five different web forums and made a post about this hunt. I've been banned from those five sites because they think I am 'trolling'. They think the whole thing is too fantastical to be taken seriously."
"Oh..."
"I'm not going to give up on this. I will find the right person to start this hunt, too honor my dad's last wish," he grabbed his laptop and started typing. "Just who shall it be..."
