Part Twenty-Seven
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest
1920 Local
Harm smiled at Trask, "Very good, Reverend. I hope you won't be offended if I wait until I hear Lt. Singer is safely back in Memphis before I fulfill my end of the bargain? You could consider it a downpayment."
Trask smiled warmly, although his eyes were ice-cold, "Of course I'm offended. So much so that I believe it would be more prudent to keep Lt. Singer here. We can release the two of you together - provided that what you tell me is worth the price."
'Damn, so much for the easy way... ' Harm managed to chuckle ruefully, "Well, it was worth a shot." He extended his wineglass to the Reverend who obligingly refilled it. "As a commanding officer, I'm sure you're familiar with the dilemma of being responsible for your junior officers - even the ones you don't like. I felt obligated to try."
"Of course," Trask's smile became a little more genuine. Finally, someone who understood the onus of leadership. He would truly regret this man's death. "You were going to tell me about Koslov?"
Harm tilted his head, "I believe you were going to tell me what you've deduced or suspected. That way neither one of us has to waste time rehashing old ground."
The Reverend stared at Harm for a long moment, "Very well. As you are no doubt aware, Koslov has been supplying this base for the last eight months. Just about everything we need to get up and running. He's even gotten us materials to put up our buildings. The only things he hasn't provided have been... "
"Money and weapons," Harm finished.
Trask looked at him, "Yes."
"And he told you those items were harder and riskier to obtain and to be patient, he was figuring out a way to get them for you." Harm continued.
"Also correct."
"Would it surprise you to learn that Koslov has already figured out a way? Or, I should say, one of his people has." Harm looked at Trask expectantly. If the Reverend bought this, he and Singer's chances would be going up.
Slowly, Trask raised his eyebrows, "No, I'd have to say it wouldn't surprise me in the least. Do you know why he hasn't handed them over or said anything?"
'Here we go.' Harm gave Trask a small smile, "Have you ever heard of a group called 'Archangel'?"
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1945 Local
Lauren paced back and forth in her tiny room. Koslov had provided her with quarters, so to speak - if you could call a closet with a bathroom attached 'quarters'. He hadn't bothered locking her in, where would she go? She did have one of those militia hicks outside her door. He was her 'escort' around the encampment. She and Koslov had dinner together and she'd spent an incredibly boring hour or so, listening to him alternate between vilifying Trask and aggrandizing himself. Fortunately, she had long ago mastered the technique of appearing vitally interested whenever necessary.
She wished there was some way to quell the nervousness and fear. She felt like she was balancing on a knife edge. Her life was hanging on a lie... what had she been thinking?! Some stupid feeling of loyalty had compelled her to try and stop them from beating Cmdr. Rabb. It seemed like the logical thing to say at the time and fortunately, Rabb was quick on the uptake. She didn't like MacKenzie but still, convincing that cretin had left her feeling uncomfortable. Lauren wasn't sure if it was the lie itself or the fact that it was such a flimsy lie.
She sat down on the narrow bed and put her head in her hands. Lauren actually did know one reason for her fear. She'd bet a month's salary that MacKenzie and Perez had turned right around and were on their way back to the militia camp with some vague, ill-planned notion of rescue. What the hell good did the Colonel think she could do? That stupid, stubborn woman could barely walk! God damn the Marines and their goddamn insistence on retrieving their own! They were going to get caught and then, she supposed, they could all have the satisfaction of dying together.
She got up and started marching again. Almost... almost, she considered throwing in with Koslov for real. But... the Captain, for all his apparent skill at not getting caught, was a stupid and vainglorious man. Half the reason for his success was that his commanding officer was an obtuse egotist. The other half was due to Charlie Jacobs' genius. Koslov was quick to take advantage but if he ever had an original thought, Lauren was willing to wager, his head would explode from the shock.
Unfortunately, one didn't have to be smart to be dangerous - which made this charade she was playing that much worse. Lauren snorted to herself as she flopped back down on the bed. She couldn't believe the cavalier attitude of the others, like this was some sort of demented game that they could walk away from. Damn them for getting her involved in this!
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0415 Local
Tyler sat and watched the camp. He was on a foraging mission. It had taken a while to convince Perez, but in the end, it was necessity that decided the issue. They needed more supplies. The captain had told him that this would be the safest time to try something. He also told him to get in and get out as quickly as possible. Quietly, he made his way to the mess hall. There was a supply shed next to the kitchen area. It would be his first stop. Hopefully, they didn't bother locking up the canned goods. A few minutes later, he was crouched in the shadows of the two buildings. For all his aplomb in front of the captain, right now his heart was hammering so loud, he was surprised the sentries hadn't heard.
When the kitchen door banged open, he thought his heart just plain stopped. He made himself as small as possible against the base of the shed and tried not to breathe. Damn! He hadn't thought they'd get started this early! Still as a statue, only his eyes tracked the movement of the man. Dressed in white, he was probably a mess hall attendant. Tyler didn't think the cook would do his own fetching and carrying. He heard the jingle of keys as the attendant approached the shed door. It had been locked! Maybe this would work out after all... providing he didn't get caught.
Tyler waited until the man had gone back into the mess, carrying a box of supplies. It was now or never. He eased upright and made his way to the door and quickly ducked inside. Unslinging his backpack, Tyler methodically plucked out the things he thought they'd need. He took the few extra seconds to rearrange items so it wouldn't be apparent anything was missing. He'd come across a carton of linen napkins and had gleefully used them to pack around the canned goods. The kitchen door banging was all the warning he had. Tyler barely made it to the side of the door before the attendant walked in. As soon as the he was past, Tyler flattened him with a large can of stewed tomatoes. He looked down at the unconscious man and then took a quick look outside. Now what?
The one thing he hadn't wanted to happen was for anyone to suspect he was around. Now he might as well spray-paint his name and a big direction arrow. The militia would turn over every rock, and while he might elude them, Perez and the Colonel wouldn't. Dammit, he had to do something, and quickly - he couldn't afford to sit around either. Wait... what if he could make this look like an accident? Like the guy slipped and knocked himself out? Any claims of being attacked could be passed off as not wanting to admit his own clumsiness. Tyler dragged the man further in and started scanning the shelves. There! Apples - not the best but certainly plausible. He opened the bag and laid it on its side, spilling them on the floor. For good measure, he stepped on a couple near the man's shoe. Gathering up his backpack, he checked to see if the coast was clear and vanished into the pre-dawn darkness.
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0500 Local
As soon as it was light enough, AJ started out. He'd been awake for about an hour, trying to work the stiffness and kinks out of his muscles. He was getting too old to be playing human pinball with bunch of trees. Dammit, that's why he had junior officers. They probably thought this kind of stuff was exciting. He kept on trudging uphill. AJ had decided the best course would be to seek the highest ground and then circle out from there. At some point, hopefully, he'd run into the Gunny. After that, they'd see if they could find the militia camp.
AJ reached the summit and looked around. Trees and scrub growth in all directions and not much else. He thought about yelling for Walters and then decided against it. There was no sense in attracting the wrong sort of attention... any more than he already had. Squinting into the rising sun, he decided to start from the east. Stepping out about fifty paces, he turned and began his circuit; taking note of anything of interest. Keeping the summit at his right shoulder, he completed the first circuit and moved out another fifty paces to begin the second. He'd keep increasing the distance for as long as he could keep his reference point in sight. After that, he would head for the next summit and start again. At some point, he would run into something or someone. This was the South, not the West - distances were just not that great. His problem would be avoiding any more psycho rednecks.
He was skirting a particularly dense thicket when he heard it. The light crunch of leaves that could mean someone shifting... or a squirrel scurrying out of sight. Deciding he'd rather feel foolish than dead, he crouched and spun, drawing his pistol at the same time. And found himself looking at the surprised face of Gunny Walters, who had his pistol drawn, too. He was also sporting a large bruise and jagged gash on the side of his head. They relaxed and lowered their weapons at the same time. AJ looked at the Gunny, "Are you okay?"
Walters touched the side of his head gingerly, "Yes sir, I think I finally found a rock that was harder than my head."
AJ grinned, "Maybe you should have it bronzed."
Gunny looked at the Admiral for a moment, he wasn't too sure about kidding around with a two-star. On the other hand... what the hell? "Actually, sir, I was thinking of a nice plaque." He glanced around the forest, "Well, I'm lost. Any idea which direction the militia camp is, sir?"
AJ shook his head, "Not a clue, Gunny." He waved a hand, "I've been working a circle pattern. I suppose it's as good a method as any, we're bound to run into something." They started walking.
Vicinity of Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0620 Local
Mac struggled to open her eyes. Time was running out, she could feel it. 'Dammit, Marine! Get Up!' She threw everything into a last-ditch effort and at last, her eyes flew open. Blinking in the morning light, she gathered herself for the next effort. Tentatively, she tried raising her head, closing her eyes when the spinning made her queasy. The pain in her shoulder rose and ebbed with each breath. It felt like the one constant in her life. 'C'mon, don't be a wuss.' The minutes were inexorably slipping away and here she was, flat on her back. Stop whining and start moving!
Fine... try it another way. Gritting her teeth, she tried to roll to one side. '... what the hell... ?' Why wasn't she moving? Frustrated, Mac laid there for a moment. Her fear of being too late was an almost tangible thing. Its presence lurked just beyond the edge of her sight, but it was growing. Damn, now there was another voice intruding upon her concentration. She wished it would shut up, she didn't need the distraction. It kept on, low and insistent, exasperating the hell out of her. Didn't it know about that... that thing? Every moment lost made it stronger. She HAD to get moving.
Perez looked over in time to see Mac's eyes open although she didn't seem to register her surroundings. Her fever had broken during the early morning hours. His eyes widened when he saw she was trying to get up. He hurried over and put a hand out, "Easy Colonel, you need to take it a little slower." God knew what had suddenly made her so intent on rising. He kept talking in a low reassuring tone, if he could just get her to calm down. Instead, she seemed to be growing more agitated. He captured the wrist on her good side, the Colonel seemed to hovering right on the edge of consciousness. He would try to get her the rest of the way and he didn't want to get decked for his trouble.
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest
1920 Local
Harm smiled at Trask, "Very good, Reverend. I hope you won't be offended if I wait until I hear Lt. Singer is safely back in Memphis before I fulfill my end of the bargain? You could consider it a downpayment."
Trask smiled warmly, although his eyes were ice-cold, "Of course I'm offended. So much so that I believe it would be more prudent to keep Lt. Singer here. We can release the two of you together - provided that what you tell me is worth the price."
'Damn, so much for the easy way... ' Harm managed to chuckle ruefully, "Well, it was worth a shot." He extended his wineglass to the Reverend who obligingly refilled it. "As a commanding officer, I'm sure you're familiar with the dilemma of being responsible for your junior officers - even the ones you don't like. I felt obligated to try."
"Of course," Trask's smile became a little more genuine. Finally, someone who understood the onus of leadership. He would truly regret this man's death. "You were going to tell me about Koslov?"
Harm tilted his head, "I believe you were going to tell me what you've deduced or suspected. That way neither one of us has to waste time rehashing old ground."
The Reverend stared at Harm for a long moment, "Very well. As you are no doubt aware, Koslov has been supplying this base for the last eight months. Just about everything we need to get up and running. He's even gotten us materials to put up our buildings. The only things he hasn't provided have been... "
"Money and weapons," Harm finished.
Trask looked at him, "Yes."
"And he told you those items were harder and riskier to obtain and to be patient, he was figuring out a way to get them for you." Harm continued.
"Also correct."
"Would it surprise you to learn that Koslov has already figured out a way? Or, I should say, one of his people has." Harm looked at Trask expectantly. If the Reverend bought this, he and Singer's chances would be going up.
Slowly, Trask raised his eyebrows, "No, I'd have to say it wouldn't surprise me in the least. Do you know why he hasn't handed them over or said anything?"
'Here we go.' Harm gave Trask a small smile, "Have you ever heard of a group called 'Archangel'?"
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1945 Local
Lauren paced back and forth in her tiny room. Koslov had provided her with quarters, so to speak - if you could call a closet with a bathroom attached 'quarters'. He hadn't bothered locking her in, where would she go? She did have one of those militia hicks outside her door. He was her 'escort' around the encampment. She and Koslov had dinner together and she'd spent an incredibly boring hour or so, listening to him alternate between vilifying Trask and aggrandizing himself. Fortunately, she had long ago mastered the technique of appearing vitally interested whenever necessary.
She wished there was some way to quell the nervousness and fear. She felt like she was balancing on a knife edge. Her life was hanging on a lie... what had she been thinking?! Some stupid feeling of loyalty had compelled her to try and stop them from beating Cmdr. Rabb. It seemed like the logical thing to say at the time and fortunately, Rabb was quick on the uptake. She didn't like MacKenzie but still, convincing that cretin had left her feeling uncomfortable. Lauren wasn't sure if it was the lie itself or the fact that it was such a flimsy lie.
She sat down on the narrow bed and put her head in her hands. Lauren actually did know one reason for her fear. She'd bet a month's salary that MacKenzie and Perez had turned right around and were on their way back to the militia camp with some vague, ill-planned notion of rescue. What the hell good did the Colonel think she could do? That stupid, stubborn woman could barely walk! God damn the Marines and their goddamn insistence on retrieving their own! They were going to get caught and then, she supposed, they could all have the satisfaction of dying together.
She got up and started marching again. Almost... almost, she considered throwing in with Koslov for real. But... the Captain, for all his apparent skill at not getting caught, was a stupid and vainglorious man. Half the reason for his success was that his commanding officer was an obtuse egotist. The other half was due to Charlie Jacobs' genius. Koslov was quick to take advantage but if he ever had an original thought, Lauren was willing to wager, his head would explode from the shock.
Unfortunately, one didn't have to be smart to be dangerous - which made this charade she was playing that much worse. Lauren snorted to herself as she flopped back down on the bed. She couldn't believe the cavalier attitude of the others, like this was some sort of demented game that they could walk away from. Damn them for getting her involved in this!
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0415 Local
Tyler sat and watched the camp. He was on a foraging mission. It had taken a while to convince Perez, but in the end, it was necessity that decided the issue. They needed more supplies. The captain had told him that this would be the safest time to try something. He also told him to get in and get out as quickly as possible. Quietly, he made his way to the mess hall. There was a supply shed next to the kitchen area. It would be his first stop. Hopefully, they didn't bother locking up the canned goods. A few minutes later, he was crouched in the shadows of the two buildings. For all his aplomb in front of the captain, right now his heart was hammering so loud, he was surprised the sentries hadn't heard.
When the kitchen door banged open, he thought his heart just plain stopped. He made himself as small as possible against the base of the shed and tried not to breathe. Damn! He hadn't thought they'd get started this early! Still as a statue, only his eyes tracked the movement of the man. Dressed in white, he was probably a mess hall attendant. Tyler didn't think the cook would do his own fetching and carrying. He heard the jingle of keys as the attendant approached the shed door. It had been locked! Maybe this would work out after all... providing he didn't get caught.
Tyler waited until the man had gone back into the mess, carrying a box of supplies. It was now or never. He eased upright and made his way to the door and quickly ducked inside. Unslinging his backpack, Tyler methodically plucked out the things he thought they'd need. He took the few extra seconds to rearrange items so it wouldn't be apparent anything was missing. He'd come across a carton of linen napkins and had gleefully used them to pack around the canned goods. The kitchen door banging was all the warning he had. Tyler barely made it to the side of the door before the attendant walked in. As soon as the he was past, Tyler flattened him with a large can of stewed tomatoes. He looked down at the unconscious man and then took a quick look outside. Now what?
The one thing he hadn't wanted to happen was for anyone to suspect he was around. Now he might as well spray-paint his name and a big direction arrow. The militia would turn over every rock, and while he might elude them, Perez and the Colonel wouldn't. Dammit, he had to do something, and quickly - he couldn't afford to sit around either. Wait... what if he could make this look like an accident? Like the guy slipped and knocked himself out? Any claims of being attacked could be passed off as not wanting to admit his own clumsiness. Tyler dragged the man further in and started scanning the shelves. There! Apples - not the best but certainly plausible. He opened the bag and laid it on its side, spilling them on the floor. For good measure, he stepped on a couple near the man's shoe. Gathering up his backpack, he checked to see if the coast was clear and vanished into the pre-dawn darkness.
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0500 Local
As soon as it was light enough, AJ started out. He'd been awake for about an hour, trying to work the stiffness and kinks out of his muscles. He was getting too old to be playing human pinball with bunch of trees. Dammit, that's why he had junior officers. They probably thought this kind of stuff was exciting. He kept on trudging uphill. AJ had decided the best course would be to seek the highest ground and then circle out from there. At some point, hopefully, he'd run into the Gunny. After that, they'd see if they could find the militia camp.
AJ reached the summit and looked around. Trees and scrub growth in all directions and not much else. He thought about yelling for Walters and then decided against it. There was no sense in attracting the wrong sort of attention... any more than he already had. Squinting into the rising sun, he decided to start from the east. Stepping out about fifty paces, he turned and began his circuit; taking note of anything of interest. Keeping the summit at his right shoulder, he completed the first circuit and moved out another fifty paces to begin the second. He'd keep increasing the distance for as long as he could keep his reference point in sight. After that, he would head for the next summit and start again. At some point, he would run into something or someone. This was the South, not the West - distances were just not that great. His problem would be avoiding any more psycho rednecks.
He was skirting a particularly dense thicket when he heard it. The light crunch of leaves that could mean someone shifting... or a squirrel scurrying out of sight. Deciding he'd rather feel foolish than dead, he crouched and spun, drawing his pistol at the same time. And found himself looking at the surprised face of Gunny Walters, who had his pistol drawn, too. He was also sporting a large bruise and jagged gash on the side of his head. They relaxed and lowered their weapons at the same time. AJ looked at the Gunny, "Are you okay?"
Walters touched the side of his head gingerly, "Yes sir, I think I finally found a rock that was harder than my head."
AJ grinned, "Maybe you should have it bronzed."
Gunny looked at the Admiral for a moment, he wasn't too sure about kidding around with a two-star. On the other hand... what the hell? "Actually, sir, I was thinking of a nice plaque." He glanced around the forest, "Well, I'm lost. Any idea which direction the militia camp is, sir?"
AJ shook his head, "Not a clue, Gunny." He waved a hand, "I've been working a circle pattern. I suppose it's as good a method as any, we're bound to run into something." They started walking.
Vicinity of Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0620 Local
Mac struggled to open her eyes. Time was running out, she could feel it. 'Dammit, Marine! Get Up!' She threw everything into a last-ditch effort and at last, her eyes flew open. Blinking in the morning light, she gathered herself for the next effort. Tentatively, she tried raising her head, closing her eyes when the spinning made her queasy. The pain in her shoulder rose and ebbed with each breath. It felt like the one constant in her life. 'C'mon, don't be a wuss.' The minutes were inexorably slipping away and here she was, flat on her back. Stop whining and start moving!
Fine... try it another way. Gritting her teeth, she tried to roll to one side. '... what the hell... ?' Why wasn't she moving? Frustrated, Mac laid there for a moment. Her fear of being too late was an almost tangible thing. Its presence lurked just beyond the edge of her sight, but it was growing. Damn, now there was another voice intruding upon her concentration. She wished it would shut up, she didn't need the distraction. It kept on, low and insistent, exasperating the hell out of her. Didn't it know about that... that thing? Every moment lost made it stronger. She HAD to get moving.
Perez looked over in time to see Mac's eyes open although she didn't seem to register her surroundings. Her fever had broken during the early morning hours. His eyes widened when he saw she was trying to get up. He hurried over and put a hand out, "Easy Colonel, you need to take it a little slower." God knew what had suddenly made her so intent on rising. He kept talking in a low reassuring tone, if he could just get her to calm down. Instead, she seemed to be growing more agitated. He captured the wrist on her good side, the Colonel seemed to hovering right on the edge of consciousness. He would try to get her the rest of the way and he didn't want to get decked for his trouble.
